The world stood still. I tried to process his words, but he was staring at me with intense blue eyes, as though he was trying to read my thoughts, which were a jumbled mess. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again, lost for words.
"Say something," he said. I saw a flicker of fear cross his beautiful face.
"Was that a proposal?" I asked, concerned that I'd either mis-heard him, or that he'd just said it in the heat of the moment because he didn't want an argument.
"I've been trying to ask you for ages," he said, sheepishly, "but the moment was never right, and I kind of bottled it. I don't want to be without you."
"You won't be away forever," I reminded him.
"Sarah, I fell apart when you moved out of our room for a day. I really don't want to be without you for nine months out there. We know we're good together and that we'll end up growing old together in our country cottage, so why not just accept the inevitable?"
He was unyielding, determined not to be apart. Henry might be a nice guy, but he has a quiet determination. I knew from his bio that he wasn't the type to give up easily. He'd attacked Hollywood over and over again until they'd let him in. If he really wanted something, he wouldn't stop until he'd won. "That was a crappy proposal," I pointed out. He flashed a grin.
"It was a bit. I'm sorry."
"I expected better from you, maybe something stylish and romantic.." I was prevaricating and we both knew it. It wasn't that I didn't want to marry him-I did, it was more that I wanted it to be right.
"I'll go and get you a stylish and romantic ring as soon as we land," he pressed, "so apart from a crappy proposal, will you marry me?" I could see he was shaking slightly. My supremely confidant man was actually nervous. He grasped my hand. I wondered if he could feel my pulse racing as I processed my thoughts. I knew I wanted him, wanted us. I loved what we had together, the intimacy, the sense of togetherness we'd built. I knew I didn't want to wave him off at Heathrow and have a long distance relationship.
"Yes I'll marry you." I heard the words come out of my mouth, as though my lips were a disconnected part of me, perfectly capable of making decisions on their own. Henry let out the breath he'd been holding, before leaning over to kiss me, not giving a damn who saw us.
When we came up for air, he ordered some champagne from the stewardess. We toasted our engagement at forty thousand feet, giggling together at the enormity of what we'd just done. "You know there's gonna be thousands of hearts broken all round the world," I teased. He shrugged.
"As long as your hearts intact, that's all that matters," he pronounced. He seemed lost in thought as he played with my fingers. Eventually he spoke; "I can't wait to put a ring on this." He waggled my ring finger playfully. "I can't wait for the world to know that you're the special one."
It was frustrating being in the air, and as such, not being able to tell anyone. I couldn't wait to land, I needed to call my parents and Henry needed to call his.
As I thought, both sets of parents were delighted, which made us even happier about our decision. Before we'd even gone home, we stopped off at an upmarket jewellers to choose a ring. Henry slipped the princess diamond and platinum creation onto my finger and gazed at it for a moment. "Perfect," he said, flashing a genuinely happy smile, despite the fact he'd just spent a bloody fortune on it. I was floating on air.
Almost immediately, we were both back to work. I'd organised Henry's place to be cleaned and stocked, so I moved in almost straightaway. I had to clear my flat ready for renting, plus I was handling Henry's mad schedule for the five days till we flew out to LA.
I also had to face Clive, and hand in my notice.
He wasn't happy. I don't know if it was the prospect of me leaving, or the problem of Henry no longer being seen as available to his fans. It may even have been a combination of the two. "Why don't you just transfer to the US and carry on as his handler out there?" He'd barked.
"I didn't think that'd be an option," I said.
"Of course it's an option," he said, rolling his eyes. "You're one of the best in the business Sarah, the studio won't want to lose you and Henry's yet to be assigned to anyone in Detroit. Truth is, they're all LA based and nobody wanted to spend nine months on location, especially there. This may well just solve a problem all round. Still got the issue of every woman in the western world wanting to claw out your eyes, but I'm sure you can deal with that one." He tore up my resignation letter and dropped the contents in his waste paper bin. "Now shoo, sort out what you need to and be ready to leave by Friday. I'll sort your work permit."
"Thanks Clive," I said, "I owe you big time for this." I blew him a kiss and headed into my office to clear out my stuff.
The following five days were mental. I was accompanying Henry to engagements from ten till ten each day, as well as clearing out both mine and his homes, putting our personal stuff into storage so that both properties could be rented out, and in the middle of that, dealing with my phone ringing constantly as news of our engagement broke. It was a whirlwind of constant activity, culminating in the pair of us finally getting on the flight to America together late on the Friday night. I was just grateful to have got through it all and could travel knowing that everything was sorted.
I eyed the chair-bed, delighted that I'd be able to sleep, having managed the previous five days with just little cat naps. I was exhausted but happy. One glass of champagne later, I could feel Henry placing a duvet over me. The last words I heard were: "sleep well, the future Mrs Cavill.
