The Extra Scoop

1: The Most Unromantic Word

<First Draft>

The music was very good just as I anticipated. The food was even better than what I had expected. And the woman I was with - the best anyone could have hoped for. The sparkling wine complimented our sparkling conversations and with every diminution in the quantity of wine, the quality of our talk enhanced manifold. I sat there awestruck by her pretty eyes, beautiful smile, striking apparel, intelligent mind & honest heart. I sat there-- the luckiest person on the face of the earth with the very woman who made me feel so.

She excused herself. And I sat there still; already missing her; thinking about her. I was so lost in thought that I almost did not notice her coming back. I saw her eyes as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so. But then I noticed a sense of unrest in them - As she, as casually as possible, glanced through the contents on the dining table & the surroundings. Not casual enough to hide that her eyes were searching for something -  expecting something.

I beckoned the waiter to come over, just to break this awkward moment of silence. We ordered dessert. She took her usual, her favourite - vanilla ice-cream with strawberry jelly & choco-nuts. I ordered a waffle. The waiter jotted down our choices and left. She again stared at me. She was miserably failing to hide the restlessness. And then I realized - she didn't want to hide it.

This was the third hint she had dropped in as many dates. And with each passing time they were growing stronger. The first was a couple of weeks ago when she subtly started talking about how much she liked her cousin's wedding.

The week after that, when we met, it was less subtle as she talked about what she thought was the ideal age for marriage.

"I always saw myself settling down by the time I am 28."

She was 27 now. The rest of math, she had left to me.

Today, her approach was much more direct. She left the table to give me just enough time to ready the proposal and signal the waiter to get the designated glasses of champagne with a ring cleverly hid in her glass.

When she understood there was no ring or champagne waiting for her. She hoped her 'not-so-casual gaze' would help in sending across the message. And when they didn't, she resorted to blatant staring.

We were quiet for most of the ride back to her home.

"Bye", she said.

No 'see you tomorrow, honey'. No goodnight kiss. Not even a 'goodnight'. Only the most unromantic word spoken in the coldest of manners. She walked in fast strides before I could even say something.