Against All

One: Marry Me?

"Dee?"

I looked up from the rushing waters below the bridge and into Quent Lovell's dark eyes. From the moment I met him, I was a goner. He was everything I ever wanted in a man: dark, handsome, and witty. He was my other half, the piece that was always missing. The breath I took caught in my throat as he casually pulled a velvet box out of his pocket. I already knew he wasn't the type for the whole, traditional-down-on-one-knee thing.

"Marry me?" he asked. My heart thumped in my chest on fast-forward. Two years. We'd been together for two years; I had been waiting for this since our second date.

"Y-yes," I managed to stutter out after a few agonizingly long seconds. With deft, confident movements, Quent closed the gap between us, leveling the beautiful velvet box with my face. Strangely, the ring wasn't the first thing that caught my attention, it was the smell. Wild, spicy and tantalizing. I couldn't help but close my eyes and breath it in.

"I love you, Diana," he told me as he slid the gorgeous, gaudy ring on my finger. I smiled in giddy delight. Finally something going right for once. "So, don't take this personally." I felt a sharp, hot pain in my side as a paralyzing shock coursed through me. In his hand he held a small tazer. "I guess I should say it's not you, but me, right?" Quent caught me before my knees gave out and patted my cheek with his hand. His auburn hair caught the last rays of light from the ever-darkening sunset, making him look like he was caught in flames.

And then Quent Lovell, my beautiful would've-been-could've-been hubby, pushed me off the bridge.

Truly, my relationships never work out. I should become a nun.