The air in the arrivals terminal buzzed with the chaotic symphony of reunions – squeals of delight, hurried footsteps, and the rhythmic clatter of rolling suitcases. For Yuli, however, the cacophony faded into a dull background hum. Today, the only sound that truly mattered was the sound of Damon's voice, the sight of his familiar, lanky frame emerging from the crowd. Six years. Six years of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and weathering storms that had threatened to capsize their little boat of a relationship. And today, she held the anchor to their future in the small velvet box tucked securely in her handbag.
"Girly girl," she murmured to herself, a fond smile playing on her plump pink lips. Damon. Her Damon. The thought alone sent a flutter of anticipation through her. Three months in London for the psychology conference had felt like an eternity. The intellectual stimulation had been rewarding, but the constant ache of his absence had been a dull throb beneath the surface of her days. Now, back on American soil, the distance was about to dissolve.
Yuli adjusted the strap of her carry-on, her green eyes scanning the throngs of people. At five-foot-two, she often felt like she was navigating a forest of legs, but today, she was on a mission. Her white summer dress, a stark contrast to the denim jacket slung casually over her shoulders, felt light and airy against her skin. The brown boots grounded her, a familiar comfort. And perched on her nose, her favorite sunglasses shielded her hopeful gaze.
Twenty minutes. The digital clock above the information booth seemed to mock her with its slow, deliberate progress. A knot of unease began to tighten in her stomach. Damon was usually so punctual, his computer-geek precision extending to most aspects of his life.
Then, finally, she saw him. He stood near the sliding doors, a solitary figure amidst the swirling mass of people. But something was… off. His usual easygoing posture was replaced by a slumped weariness. The vibrant spark in his dark eyes was dimmed, replaced by shadows that spoke of sleepless nights. He looked thinner, his clothes hanging loosely on his tall frame, and dark circles painted a stark contrast beneath his eyes.
Worry eclipsed Yuli's anticipation. "Hey…" she began, her voice catching slightly as she approached him. "How are you, honey? And how was your conference in London?" His gaze flickered over her, a ghost of his usual warm smile touching his lips. "And why do I feel as if you have gotten thinner? Did you have something to eat?" His words tumbled out, laced with a familiar concern for her well-being.
But Yuli's focus was solely on him. The carefully rehearsed opening lines of her proposal vanished from her mind, replaced by a surge of protectiveness. Without a word, she dropped her luggage and surged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. It wasn't until she was enveloped in his familiar scent – a comforting blend of sandalwood and something uniquely him – that she noticed his hands remained awkwardly by his sides, not returning her embrace.
A flicker of confusion registered, a tiny crack in the dam of her emotions. But she pushed it aside, clinging tighter. Whatever was wrong, she would figure it out. Today was about them, about taking the next step. She just needed to hold him close, to feel the reassuring beat of his heart against hers. The proposal could wait a few more moments. Right now, all that mattered was the man in her arms.