Page 114 of Strictly Against Policy

2 YEARS LATER

“Are you relaxing?” I asked.

Lina’s face pulled into a grimace. “There are ants crawling on our picnic blanket, Jonathan.” Her voice was flat and unamused.

“What?” I jumped up to find a row of black ants crawling over the edge of our picnic blanket to the cookie crumbs we had dropped earlier while snacking.

I quickly got up and brushed them and the cookie crumbs off. I turned to my girlfriend as she looked up at me with an apologetic look. In the distance, a group of adults talked loudly with their friends, while others were much quieter as they went about their leisurely activities—reading books, chatting in much softer voices, walking around on the concrete trail. The gentle breeze of a late summer blew between us, cooling us down.

“I’m distracted,” stated Lina.

She sighed and put down the psychology book she was trying to read about emotionally immature parents and how to deal with them. Meanwhile, I opted to only bring a sketchbook and pencil. In the thirty minutes since I whisked Lina out of our home for the picnic date I worked so hard to plan, I’d only successfully drawn stick figures.

“Same.” I nodded. “I’m a little bored, too.”

Her eyebrows crumpled together. “I thought you wanted a nice, relaxing picnic at that park, with us doing something we typically don’t do?”

I grimaced but refused to admit I was wrong. “Well . . .”

She glanced at whatever I’d drawn in my sketchbook. “Why is there a house? There’s no house in sight at this park. Who are these people?”

My cheeks flushed. “I-It’s—” I stammered. She raised a curious brow at me. “It’s you and me.”

“Why us in front of a house?” she asked.

“Why not us, though? We’ve been living together for a year already,” I countered.

Lina smiled, grabbing my pencil. She drew herself a dress and bag, then gave me a button-up shirt and pants. It was my turn to furrow my brows together as she set down the pencil.

“Why did you draw yourself a bag when all you’re carrying is a lip gloss and your phone?” I laughed.

She looked at me, shrugging. “What else could I possibly need a bag for? I need my lip gloss to keep my lips soft and moisturized, and I need my phone in case someone needs to contact me.”

I threw my head back and chuckled. “I don’t know. Maybe you can put that nice wallet I got you for your birthday to use?”

She leaned over and reached into the shoulder bag she brought to the park. Her smile broadened as she fished out the luxury wallet I gifted her, all just to show it to me before putting it back.

“I am using it. I just don’t do it in front of you since you fight to pay for everything.”

I hummed, nodding. Her eyebrow raised a little higher.

She pointed to the drawing and tapped on it, smiling. “So, why did you draw us?”

My cheeks burned again. I grabbed my pencil. I grinned as I drew hands on Lina’s stick figure and shade in a ring on her fourth finger on her left hand. My heart pounded hard and fast.

“You and me,” I said, “married with the world at our fingertips.”

Lina smiled. A sheen of tears glistened in her eyes, catching the warm sunlight in a sparkle. I took her left hand in mine and drew my thumb over her ring finger.

“I want to marry you, Lina.” I brought her hand to my lips, kissing the finger I planned to put a ring on. “Will you let me?”

She feigned contemplation. “I’ll think about it.”

I grinned, nodding slowly. Anxiety pumped through my body more intensely than before. She laughed, reaching out to hold my chin tenderly.

“Why do you look so stressed?” she asked. “You know I was kidding, right?”

“W-well, you can always say no, too.”