Page 44 of The One Day You Were My Husband
Johan’s marriage proposal was neither particularly romantic nor private, but it was perfect. Over the appalling noise of the longtail boat engine and Mandi’s nonstop commentary, amid black clouds of diesel fumes and the first smattering of rain, Johan put his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to go home,” he said.
I smiled, leaning back into him. A fat raindrop fell squarely on my forehead.
“And I really don’t want to go back to Myanmar without you.” He kissed the side of my neck and said, as quietly as he could, “I want to be with you forever, Carrie. You and me. What do you think?”
I turned around, incredulous. “Did you just…Was that amarriageproposal?”
He laughed, then stopped. “Actually, yes.”
The smile fell from my face.
“Yes. I had planned something a bit more romantic, but why not? I want to be with you every day until I’m an old man, Carrie. The past few months have been the best of my life. I don’t need a sunset.”
We stared at each other for a few moments, then smiled, both of us uncertain. “Did you mean that?” I asked. “Is this…real?”
“It is for me if it is for you.”
He took my hands, smiling still. “I am not a romantic but I desperately love you,” he said. “So forgive me such an unrehearsed proposal. But I mean it. I absolutely want to marry you. If nothing else, I think the sight of a ring on your finger will remind you to leave work and come home at the end of your shift.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” I said, but I found I was on the verge of tears.
Johan was nervous now, his eyes searching mine for a sign. “I love you,” he repeated softly.
A gigantic bird wheeled in toward us before veering away sharply. The man driving the boat had no idea what was happening, but Mandi was staring at us in astonishment.
Unprompted, I started laughing. After a few seconds Johan followed suit. “Yes,” I said, kissing him. I kissed him again and again. “Yes.” Then we held each other tightly, and Mandi began clapping.
“Let me be your wedding person!” Mandi shouted, after what she probably believed to be a respectful silence. She was on her feet, lurching toward us. The longtail bucked. We had exited the bay and were now on open water. “I trained as a…oh, what is the English word…trauredner…the person who does a marriage…”
“A priest?!”
“No! No…”
“Oh…like a minister? Or celebrant?”
“Ja!Celebrant! I trained as a celebrant before I left Germany! I thought it would be a useful asset to the business. So I can do the weddings on the beach!”
I would have preferred an official wedding, had we been back in our normal lives, but this felt both insane and perfect. We looked questioningly at each other and then nodded at the same time.
“OK,” Johan said to her. “You’re hired!”
Mandi didn’t miss a beat. “OK! Tomorrow?”
“No!”Johan yelled, just as I shouted “Yes!”
He frowned. “Really? Tomorrow?!”
“Yes!” The wind had joined forces with the cacophonous boat engine. “If I die learning to dive on Koh Tao, I want to be married to you first!”
And so it was set. We would get married on the beach the next day, and Mandi would do the deed.
On the island, Mandi took photos of us together and then dragged Johan off for some solo pictures in front of a cave. “He is so good to look at,” she told me apologetically. “And this is such a good story for our social media. Can I please…?”
I stood back, looking over the water toward our resort, hugging myself. The rain had already passed and above me the sky was swept nearly clean, only the tiniest stings of cloud remaining.
A wedding. A marriage. A lifetime. All of this was right. All of it was meant to happen.
Off to my left, Johan was negotiating his way out of Mandi’s photoshoot, asking to be able to talk to his fiancée. Above me, the palm trees lilted happily; the world turned.
