Want to save this recipe?
Shadows of Doubt Lengthen at Twilight
I had prepared this afternoon with meticulous care. The jewelry shop in the Marais sparkled under soft lighting, and Rosie, Lily’s best friend, held between her slender fingers the rings I was contemplating. Four years of love condensed into a platinum circle. That’s when my phone vibrated. A message from Lily: “Having coffee with Rosie :)”
Time stood still. I looked at Rosie, then my phone, then back at Rosie. She was standing right here in front of me, not with Lily in some café. The lie was flagrant, brutal.
“She hasn’t told you anything?” whispered Rosie, suddenly pale.
“Tell me what?”
She looked away. “Nothing. It’s not for me to…”
Something broke inside me. Four years of trust, of mornings shared over coffee, of evenings cuddled against each other, and now a simple message made all my certainties waver.
Silence Settles Like an Unwelcome Guest
The following hours stretched infinitely. I called Lily. One, two, three rings, then her voicemail. She who always answered. Her lack of response echoed louder than any confession.
When I returned to the apartment, Lily was there, acting as if nothing was wrong. Her hair still damp from a recent shower, her nails freshly polished. She greeted me with that smile I knew by heart, but which now seemed to wear a mask.
“How was your coffee with Rosie?” I asked, my throat tight.
“Oh, it was good. Girl stuff, you know. Nothing exciting.”
That evening, I observed her like a stranger. Her familiar gestures suddenly seemed foreign. I heard her whispering on the phone in our bedroom: “Don’t worry. He doesn’t know anything yet.” When I entered, she pretended to be talking to her mother.
In the darkness of our bed, I stared at the ceiling while she slept peacefully. How could she sleep when our world was wobbling on its foundations? The next day, I discovered strange purchases on our joint account: a terrarium, heat lamps for reptiles, accessories from PetCo. Lily who had always hated snakes, who shuddered at their mere mention.
The clues were piling up like stones on my chest.
The Silent Crash of Emerging Truths
The following day, I came home determined to confront this woman I thought I knew. Words collided in my head, preparing for confrontation. But it was she who waited for me at the door, her hands slightly trembling, her fingers nervously playing with a strand of hair.
“Andrew, I have… something to show you.”
My heart tightened. This was the moment of truth. The confessions were finally about to fall.
She led me to our guest room, the one that only served to store old boxes and Christmas decorations. A strange humming escaped from behind the door.
“Before you say anything,” she whispered, her face paler than I had ever seen it, “remember that I love you. This was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday next week.”
The door opened slowly, revealing a beautiful glass terrarium placed on a specially designed table. Inside, peacefully coiled under a heat lamp, was a gorgeous Kenyan sand boa.
“Surprise?” she said weakly.
I blinked, unable to speak.
“Her name is Bowie,” Lily continued nervously. “Well, that’s the name I gave her, but you can change it if you want. The breeder said she’s very gentle, perfect for beginners. Rosie helped me do all the research. We’ve been planning this for weeks.”
Light Filters Through the Cracks in Our Doubts
Suddenly everything became clear. The lies. The mysterious calls. The unexplained expenses. Lily didn’t have a lover. She was confronting her greatest fear to give me what I had always wanted but never dared to hope for.
She handed me a small envelope decorated with a ribbon.
“Happy early birthday. Here’s Bowie the Boa. P.S. – Yes, you can give her a cooler name if you want.”
All the anxiety accumulated over the past few days evaporated in an instant. I looked at this woman standing there, next to a snake in a terrarium, and understood something essential. This woman had faced her deepest fear for me. This woman was the one I wanted by my side forever.
I pulled out the ring box from my jacket pocket – the one I had chosen with Rosie the day before. I knelt there, in that guest room transformed into a reptile sanctuary, and said: “If you can love me and my snake, will you marry me?”
She blinked. Then laughed. Then cried.
And then, she spoke the words I was waiting for.
“Yes,” she nodded, tears in her eyes. “Of course, yes.”