the mortgage in my name only. I paid most of the down payment, but I never used that fact against him.
“It’s our house,” I always said.
We opened a joint bank account, paid the bills together, renovated the kitchen, and adopted a small dog from a shelter.
All our friends and relatives considered us husband and wife.
Daniel often jokingly introduced me as his wife.
There was only one thing missing.
A ring.
At first, it didn’t bother me. I thought we still had plenty of time. Then Daniel said we needed to sort out our careers first. After that, he said we should renovate the house. Then he said we needed to save more money.
Every year, he found a new reason.
For the twelfth anniversary of our relationship, I booked a table at a beautiful restaurant. I wasn’t expecting an extravagant proposal. I didn’t want hundreds of
