She almost laughed. Three years together, two shared apartments, one rescue dog named Waffles, and here she was, asking the internet to predict her future like a Magic 8-Ball.
“Rachel,” he said, kneeling on one knee, the box open in his palm. “I know I’m not great with words. But I want to spend my life failing at them with you. Will you marry me?” does rachel and mike get married
She closed the laptop.
Outside their Brooklyn window, rain streaked the glass. Mike was still at work—late, again. Lately, he’d been quiet. Distant. Not cold, but… careful. Like he was rehearsing lines for a play she hadn’t read yet. She almost laughed