The silver mobile phone sat on my table looking so innocently. Today it had been quiet the whole day. Tapping my fingers impatiently, I wondered for the umpteenth time what happened to him. It bothered me that he had not made an effort to call and tell me that he would be late. Then again, he had never been usually late. The second hand of my plastic watch ticked aimlessly by as I gazed through the frosted glass patiently waiting. A whiff of noodles wafted from the nearby shop. It was a promise we made three years ago when we parted. In my mind, that very scene was clear in my memories as though it was replaying itself: the gentle smile on his face, the sound of his voice mixed with the musk scent of the soap he frequently used and the aroma of steaming hot noodles. I smiled unconsciously to myself as I thought of him.

That shop was our favourite shop and held a lot of memories of our time together. Forty minutes had passed since I sat on this bench. I spun my head around almost half standing, but behind me was no one. I sighed half in embarrassment half in disappointment. Perhaps he could have really left me for another female like that scantily dressed female sashaying down the street or he could have forgotten. Thousands of could haves and maybes flooded my mind as I sat mutely on that wooden bench at the side of the street.

Suddenly the ringing of the ambulance that sped down the street pierced through my thoughts like a knife. I stared at disbelief at it, hearing the onlookers muttering to themselves about how the poor man had been hit. My hands involuntarily clasped each other, my knuckles turning to the whitest shade that was possible on a human body. I could not have been so prophetic. Wordlessly I cursed myself for having even thought of such things. Jason could have fallen ill; he was after all a bit on the weak side.

“Poor man, he seemed to have been in a hurry. I wonder who is waiting for him…”

“You think she might be around?”

“He might have been late…”

“Should have seen that truck…”

My mind wheeling in scepticism at what could have possibly happen, beads of tears started to fall. I waited three years for him. He promised he would meet me three years after he completed his degree. I waited three whole years for him.

I hurried down the street, selfishly pushing the onlookers aside. Crimson covered the jet black road, a nauseating sight in plain sight. I panted slightly partial from the pushing of people, partial from the heavy disquieting feeling in my stomach. The man had sandy brown hair like Jason; he was tall just like Jason. Shaking my head, I refused to believe it was Jason. Gratefully I leaned against the cool concrete wall taking gulps of breath. It was not Jason. It had been simply a frightful illusion of my eyes. Unsteadily, I stumbled back to the bench where I had been sitting, taking in the fragrant of steamed dumplings and noodles. Almost an hour had past, where was Jason?

Perhaps Jason really had forgotten about me. No matter what he had said or done, we probably were now merely friends as far as good friends can go. I stood up to leave and paused in mid-step. Something told me to wait. It must have been a silly imagination of mine. After all this place held so many memories to me, it was the place I met Jason, our first date and the place we parted.

“Sam, would you …?”

I twisted around in surprise. He smiled, his dark brown eyes winking, the sandy brown hair messily all over his face.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he meekly said. “But would you?” He opened the small red case in his hand - a simple silver ring in the casing.

“Sam would you be my wife?” he said simply with all the sincerity one could possibly hear of.

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Property of LunaWingz