It was October. The maple trees were turning red around the stone walkway. He stopped beside a bench I had selected from a catalog two years earlier. Then he lowered himself onto one knee. I said yes before he finished asking. We laughed. Then I cried. Then he laughed because I was crying. We sat on the bench afterward with my hand in his and the ring catching autumn light. That evening I called my parents. Dad answered on the fourth ring. ” Silence.
The same word he might have used
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