17. On One Knee
ON ONE KNEE
NEHA
T he last time I brought Neha to Delmonico’s, I had been a goddamn idiot. Tonight, I was going to make it right.
The restaurant was just as polished and old-school elegant as it had been that day, but everything felt different now. The tension that had sat like a stone in my gut back then was gone. In its place was something heavier—but in the best possible way.
Because tonight, I wasn’t here to break Neha’s heart. I was here to ask her to spend forever with me.
She didn’t suspect a thing.
We had dressed up for the occasion—her in a deep red dress that hugged her curves just right, me in a tailored navy suit that I knew she liked.
She had laughed when I held out my arm for her like I was trying too hard, but she took it anyway.
And now, as we sat in the same corner booth we had occupied that day, I found myself gripping the small velvet box in my pocket, waiting for the right moment.
Neha was happy.
I could see it in the way her eyes sparkled, in the way she teased me over the menu, in the way her foot brushed against mine under the table, unthinking, natural. She had rebuilt her life after I tore it apart, and somehow, somehow, she had let me back in.
And I wasn’t about to let her go.
She lifted her glass. “You’ve been staring at me for a full minute. Something you want to say?”
I swallowed, reaching for my own drink. “Yeah.”
I stood.
Her brows pulled together slightly as she watched me, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What are you?—”
Then I did it. I pulled the ring box from my pocket, flipped it open, and went down on one knee.
Neha sucked in a sharp breath.
The hum of the restaurant faded into background noise. It was just her and me.
I had planned a whole speech. Something poetic, something worthy of her. But now that I was here, all I could do was look up at this brilliant, strong, incredible woman and say the only thing that mattered. "Marry me, Neha."
Her lips parted, eyes wide, and for a terrifying half-second, she didn’t say anything .
Then, she laughed. Not just a small, nervous chuckle—a full, bright, throw-your-head-back laugh that made my stomach clench with something deep and aching. She shook her head, grinning so hard it hurt. "Of course, you’d do this here."
I smirked. "Had to fix the last time."
Her gaze softened. "Yes, Ansel Tyler, I will marry you. I will be your wife.”
I barely had time to slip the ring onto her finger before she pulled me up into a kiss that stole every last bit of air from my lungs.
The entire restaurant erupted into cheers.
Neha blinked, looking around in shock as our friends and family poured in from a private dining room, clapping, laughing, ready to celebrate.
Michael was the first to reach us, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "About time.”
Neha’s eyes went wide when she spotted my parents. My mother stepped forward and took Neha’s hands in hers.
"Welcome to the family, sweetheart."
Neha’s breath hitched. I saw the way her fingers curled slightly in my mother’s grasp, the way emotion flickered across her face as she realized just how many people had shown up—for her. For us.
She looked back at me, shaking her head in disbelief. "You planned all this?"
“Last time I crashed and burned here, baby, I wanted to replace that awful memory with something better.”
“Much, much, better,” she agreed.
THE END