Damien

"HANNAH LOCKWOOD, would you do the remarkable honor of marrying me?"

My heart hammers in my chest like the crashing of symbols.

It's hard to tell if the shock lining Hannah's face is because of the timely proposal, as per written in our contract. Or because of the diamond sitting inside of the velvet black box, I hold in my clammy hands—I wouldn't blame her, as the jeweler appraised it for just over five million. Or because she shares the notion that some part of this fake proposal is real.

Whichever the case, the way her jaw hangs low and her hands flicker to the corners of her mouth makes for the perfect snapshot. Flashes shine bright against the darkness of the dance floor. The photographers acted quickly, precisely how Harrison said they would.

The bodies and eyes surrounding us illuminate, all waiting in anticipation for Hannah's decisive answer. Her attention draws to the crowd, and some of that sparkling joy dies out of her eyes before she returns them to me.

I wish I could spe