Without a Proposal: Navigating Uncertainty and Unexpected Turns

Rain tapped against the sill of the little rented twobedroom flat. James watched the droplets trace strange patterns on the windowpanes. In the kitchen, plates clinkedEmily was washing the cups after dinner.

Tea? she asked.

Sure, he replied.

He knew the way she moved through the flat, every step she took. They had been together for nine yearsalmost a third of their lives. Theyd met in the second year of their media studies degree, sharing a cramped dormitory at university.

Back then things were simple: lectures, latenight conversations, the first flutter of romance with no need for grand gestures. They moved in together earlyperhaps too early, James would later think. There was no courtship, no proposaljust the day his belongings stopped returning to the halls.

Emily set a mug of peppermint tea in front of him and sat down beside him.

My mum called, she said. She asked about your project.

What did you tell her? James asked.

That youre still a perfectionist, as always, and that things are moving slowly, Emily replied.

James smiled. Her mother, Margaret, had always been warm to him. Shed never hinted at marriage or grandchildren. A wonderful woman. Even their friends couldnt help asking, Why arent you two married? Today theyd bumped into an old classmate, and the same question resurfaced.

You know, James said suddenly, I was thinking about Alan Rickman today.

Emily giggled.

Again? Your benchmark.

No. Just hes a good example of a couple who stayed together for 47 years without any flashy labels, and yet some people choose a lavish wedding and split a year later.

Labels dont guarantee anything, Emily said. The statistics are on your side.

Exactly.

Emily took a sip of tea and stared out the window.

Lucy from the accounts department is getting a divorce, she murmured. Third marriage. She swears each time itll be the one that lasts.

And we havent even started, James said with a grin. And were still together.

Exactly. Still together.

He knew Emily sometimes thought about children. She never said it outright, but he noticed how she lingered at the childrens clothing displays, how she smiled at the toddlers in the park. He, too, sometimes imagined a familyjust not now, not in this cramped flat, not with his unstable freelance design gigs. Maybe someday.

Im scared of ending up like my parents, he confessed suddenly. You know how they spent their whole lives pretending to be a familyfor the neighbours, for relatives, for me. In reality they barely spoke to each other.

Emily laid her hand on his palm.

Youre not your father. And Im not my mother, though shes a decent woman. Were just us.

But if we got married he trailed off.

If we married, nothing would change, James. Apart from a new surname on my passport. Wed still argue about the dishes, still laugh at cheesy dramas, youd still fall asleep on your laptop and Id still pull a blanket over you.

He looked at herat the fine lines that had appeared around her eyes over nine years, the familiar freckles on her neck, the hands he knew better than his own.

What about kids? he asked softly.

Emily sighed.

Kids I dont know if I want them right now. Am I afraid I wont have time? Sometimes. But if I ever wanted them, it would only be with you, and only if you wanted that too. No ultimatums, James.

She stood, gathered the cups.

You know what Lucy told me at work today? She said she envies us because were realno masks, no games. Even if we never get a wedding label.

They sat in silence, listening to the rain.

A week later Emily met her younger sister Sophie at a café. Sophie had married two years ago and was now six months pregnant.

Hows life? Sophie asked, delighting in a bite of cheesecake. Sorry, Im eating like a madwoman. This little one runs my world.

Same old, Emily smiled. Work, flat, James.

Sophie set her spoon down, looked intently at her sister.

Emily I wont pry, but Im curious. Have you two decided anything? Its been almost ten years. I signed the papers with Robert a year and a half ago, and everyone kept saying we were dragging our feet.

Were different, Sophie. Were not dragging. Were just living, Emily replied.

But you want a family? Kids? Sophie placed a hand on her belly. I used to think I wasnt ready, but now I feel that surge of love, that happiness Dont be scared. The maternal instinct awakens the moment a child becomes real.

Im not scared of children, Emily said gently. And Im not scared of marriage. What scares me is doing it because its time or because everyone else does. James and I have our own story. It may not look like yours, but its ours. And its genuine.

What if he never feels ready? Sophie asked quietly. Sorry, I just worry about you.

Emily reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

The worst thing would be if he did it just to tick a box, because he should. Id feel that. But Im happy with him every day, even when we argue. Isnt that enough?

A tear glistened on Sophies lash as she sighed.

Sorry. Its probably just hormones. I just want the best for you.

I already have it, Emily laughed. Cheesecake, a sister, and James waiting at home.

A few days later Jamess father, George, turned up unexpectedly. They hardly saw each other, their contact limited to brief holiday calls. George looked around the modest flat, took the offered chair.

Howre you, son? Mum sends her regards.

Fine, just working.

And Emily?

Shell be home from work by seven.

An awkward pause settled. George fidgeted with the keys to his old Lada.

Listen, James Im maybe getting nosy, but Mums worried. We saw on social media that Sophies expecting. Lovely pictures.

James felt a knot tighten.

Dad, if youre thinking about marriage and kids

No, no, Im not George waved a hand, but the intent was clear. I just look at you two. Nine years. Thats serious, by any measure. I I want to tell you that youve done well not to repeat our mistakes.

James raised his eyebrows.

My parents married because I was about to move out. Then they spent their lives reminding each other how theyd sacrificedI didnt go to university because of you, my career stalled because of you. Silly, really. The marriage certificate didnt glue what was cracked; sometimes it even kept them from parting cleanly, until bitterness took over.

George finally met his sons eyes, a weary honesty there.

Im not saying marriage is bad. Im saying you feel a weight of responsibility, and thats right. Honesty beats pretending to fit a perfect picture. Do you talk about this with Emily?

Constantly, James exhaled.

Good. Just make sure youre on the same wavelength. Everything else will fall into placeor not. But the decision must be yours, not because parents are waiting.

They chatted a bit more about work; George declined dinner, saying he had errands. As he left, James asked, Dad, do you ever regret?

George tugged at his coat, thought a moment.

Regret marrying Mum? No. Regret how we all messed up later? Yes, every day. Treasure what you have, son. A marriage certificate isnt a shield.

That evening James recounted his fathers visit to Emily, who listened, hugging a cushion, then said, You know, Sophie also stopped by with questions.

And?

I told her Im happy just as I am.

He pulled her close. Outside the rain began again.

Theres still one thing Im missing, she whispered into his chest.

Whats that? he asked, his heart skipping.

That you stop grumbling at night when you lose at online chess.

James laughed. Emily lifted her head, kissed him, and he realized their journey wasnt stuck. It was moving slowly, deliberately, on a track they laid themselvesday by day, conversation by conversation. The stop called Forever might not be a point on a map, but the path itself. Their path.

In nine years theyd survived his depressive spells after failed projects, her night shifts, three moves, her mothers illnesswithout breaking.

Emily, James said.

Yes?

Thank you for being you.

She turned, smiling the way he loved mosta little tired, but warm.

I love you too.

James walked to the window, watched the sparse city lights. He didnt know what the next year, five years, ten years would bring. He didnt know if theyd ever reach the station others expect them to. He only knew that tomorrow morning hed wake up beside Emily. And that, he realized, was enough. The real stamp of a life welllived is not a piece of paper, but the quiet certainty that youre choosing each other, day after day.