Several rounds of gin fizz and two seafood pizzas later, Sarah and I are stumbling across the checkered tiles. Hell, I'm nervous – even more than usual. We push through the tall glass door and make our way to the spot under the lamp post . . . our spot. She glances at me from behind those thick red frames.
I breathe. Reveal the ring.
'Sarah, will you –'
The ambulance whizzed past, almost running me off the narrow road.
