She didn’t answer.
I ended the call a few minutes later.
For the rest of the morning, I moved through the house mechanically. I made coffee, answered emails, and folded laundry.
Everything looked normal.
But something had shifted.
The proposal was no longer just an uncomfortable conversation with my husband.
It was a conversation that had apparently been happening behind my back.
And I had become the last person expected to give permission.
I Decided to Stop Asking Questions
When Sean came home that evening, I was waiting for him in the living room.
He looked surprised to see me sitting there with two cups of tea.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said.
He loosened his tie.
“About what?”
“Your proposal.”
His face brightened immediately.
I noticed how quickly his expression changed.
He had expected me to reject the idea. Now he believed I was coming around.
“And?” he asked.
I gave him a small smile.
