Scarred

Chapter 28

"Happy four and a half month anniversary," Sam said as I walked out to his car. He held a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Ha ha," I said, laughing sarcastically. "While it has been four and half months since we started dating, please tell me the real reason we're here."

Sam grinned. "Happy birthday, Quinley," he said, handing me the flowers.

I took the flowers from his hand. "Shut up," I said, playfully slapping his arm.

"October twenty-third," he began, "Quinley Marie Torres was given to the world eighteen years ago. Now, she stands before me: a beautiful, strong, independent, level-headed, smart, and, dare I say it, kind woman."

"Thank you, Sam," I smiled. "This is the kindest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"This is not it," Sam said. "Get in." He opened the door to his car and let me in. I smoothed the little black dress I had on and adjusted my earrings. I felt out of place, like I wasn't myself. My hair was done in a low curly updo, silver diamond earrings dangled from my ears, and I was wearing heels. Paige had fixed me up; she was a fashion expert. Sam told her exactly what kind of look he wanted for our "special day", and she did it. Oddly, I loved it. 

We pulled into the Olive Garden parking lot about twenty minutes later. Sam walked in, with me on his arm. We didn't even have to wait for a table when we got inside; Sam knew a guy.

We sat down at our table. "You can have whatever you want," Sam said. "My treat."

"It better be your treat!" I joked. "Look at how expensive everything is! How will you pay for it? Oh no, you better not be planning on stealing it. You're not the world's greatest theif."

"No," Sam said. "It's from my job. I got a raise, so this is how I'm spending the extra money off of my last paycheck."

"That's great!" I exclaimed. "You deserve it."

"Now, enough about me," Sam said. "It's your birthday."

"Ugh, I hate my birthday," I groaned. "I'm not an attention seeker."

"I know," Sam said.

The waitress came up to our table and took our order. When she left, we just talked and talked about life and stuff. Then, the waitress arrived with our food and drinks and we ate hungrily. When I finished my alfredo, Sam got out of his seat, pulling out a black leather box. He knelt down on one knee and opened the box, revealing a diamond ring.

"Quinley Marie Torres," Sam started. I clamped my hand over my mouth. This wasn't happening. It had to be a dream. "These past four and a half months have been the best of my life-"

"Stop!" I exclaimed. Sam's face fell. "I can't do this," I told him. "I can't get married."

"Let me finish," Sam said, getting up. "These past four and a half months have been the best of my life because of you. I never want to lose you, Quinn. I love you too much. So promise me that you'll stay with me until we are ready to get married." He pulled the ring out of the soft velvet of the leather box and held it out to me. "This is not a proposal; it's a promise ring. Promise me that you'll always be mine."

I stared at the beautiful ring. I couldn't believe it. At this time in my life, this was a hundred times better than a proposal. "I promise," I said.

And I knew it was a promise I could keep.