by Alix Labelle
Tears already clouded Stina’s vision. This was it. She could hardly wait, but she knew she must be patient.
Mike dropped to his knee before her and took her hand in his. “That letter is why I didn’t ask you when I mentioned marriage the first time. I wanted a reply first. Now that I have it, I have to know. Jag älskar dig, Stina Bengtson, Vill du gifta dig med mig?”
The tears no longer stayed in her eyes. They streamed down her cheeks. Mike was wonderful. He had taken the time to learn how to say I love you and Will you marry me in Swedish. And he’d pronounced her last name correctly. That, more than anything else, showed her how much he loved her.
Barely able to get the words out, she croaked, “I love you, too, Mike. And, yes, I will absolutely marry you.”
THE END