Heart-Shaped Bagel by Katie Collan

Everything is going according to plan.

            Dinner was nothing less than perfect. I made reservations at a rooftop steakhouse that overlooks The High Line, illuminated by rows of string lights and personal lanterns at each table. We ordered a dry-aged porterhouse and a miso glazed Chilean sea bass, then cut them in half and shared. Each bite was like a new adventure of flavor.

Usually I’m picking up dinner at a cheap hole-in-the-wall dumpling shop in Chinatown, so this is new—and seriously expensive—for me. For her, too. But she’s worth every penny.

“Kenny, look.”

Ally gestures to the pink heart-shaped Valentine’s Day fireworks exploding over the Hudson River. They light up the golden specks in her vibrant blue eyes. Still mesmerized by the show, she slowly sips on her glass of pinot noir that matches her shoulderless dress, patterned with floral lace. Her wavy, dark brown hair cascades down the back of her seat like a waterfall.

“I wish something so beautiful wouldn’t disturb the wildlife,” she says.

“Yeah, you are.”

She whips toward me, eyebrows furrowed. “I disturb wildlife?”

“N-no, I meant—” She cuts me off with a laugh before I can embarrass myself even more. I try and fail to hide my burning face underneath my palm. “Usually people say, ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ But you decided to be different and everything.”

“And who’s people?”

I scratch behind my ear. “…actors in movies.”

            She smirks. “Uh huh. Well, I like being different.”

            “I know.” I gently grab her free hand and press my lips against her knuckles. “That’s what I love about you.”

            Her cheeks tinge red. Saved.

            Okay, so maybe I’m fumbling the ball a little bit, but everything that doesn’t get ruined by my ability to spout the dumbest shit is going great. I already asked the waiter in advance to bring out a specific dessert: a simple slice of chocolate cake with the question, “Will you marry me?” written in ganache. When it comes, I’ll pull out the ring and boom. Easy proposal.

            Ally and I have been dating for three years, and our relationship has been through hell and back. There’s no doubt in my mind that I want to be with her, and for the first time in my life, I’m not worried about messing up. I already know that she’ll say yes, no matter how badly I stumble over my words or accidentally insult her.

            Even so, my left hand twitches over my pocket, and the small velvet box anchors me to my chair. I don’t want to mess up. I want this moment to be perfect for her. For me.

            “You okay?” Ally’s forehead is creased in concern. She knows me too well.

            I manage a grin. “Of course I am. I’m with you.”

            “Oh my god, stop.” Her face betrays her with another layer of blush. “Honestly, though… I couldn’t imagine it any other way. You’re my whole world, Ken. And this…” She motions to the rooftop, the view, the fireworks. “This is amazing. It might be the best night of my life.”

            “That’s what I was going for.” Out of the corner of my eye, I spot our waiter standing by the bar, dessert plate ready. I signal for him to come over. “You deserve it, Ally.”

            She gives my hand a squeeze and lets go. “I kind of thought it was luck that we met the way we did. But I’ve been thinking lately about how it feels more like fate.” She laughs nervously. “I know, it sounds stupid.”

            “It’s not stupid,” I say. “I feel the same way.”

            Her eyes sparkle like the ocean. “I’m really glad you think so. I always knew that I felt something special with you…”

            The rest of her sentence is muffled underneath my deafening heartbeat. My eyes are glued to the waiter. Each step feels like an eternity, and my palms start to sweat. I bounce my leg, clutching onto the outline of the box in my pocket that’ll change my whole—

            The waiter stops. He’s frozen in place, mouth hung open. I turn around.

            Ally’s down on one knee, presenting a wooden box to me. The lid is propped open, revealing a stainless steel Omega Seamaster analog watch, backed by an aqua blue dial with a pattern that resembles hardwood. The clock hands are sharper than Poseidon’s trident.

            “Kenny, will you marry me?”

            Every other diner is staring at me, and so are the staff.

            I switch my gaze between our waiter and Ally. “What? No.” My outburst wipes the cute smile off Ally’s face, and only then does my brain process what the fuck I just said. I stand up, my hands held defensively. “Wait, that’s not what I—”

            The onlookers don’t give me time to explain: They start booing louder than the relaxing music, their insults paired with dirty glares. One woman throws her used napkin at me.

            Ally doesn’t look like she’s about to cry or run out of the restaurant. She looks pissed. “What do you mean ‘no?’ Why’s it so bad that I wanted to propose to you?”

            I wave my hands around. “No, it’s not bad—”

            “You think just because I’m a girl means that I can’t?” She snaps the box shut and gets off the floor. “News flash, Kenny: It’s the twenty-first century. Women can propose, too.”

            “I never said you couldn’t—”

            “Then what’s the big deal? Don’t tell me that you’re too embarrassed to tell your friends that your girlfriend was the first one to propose. We’re equals in this relationship. Just because I had the balls to do it first—”

            “It’s because I was already planning to propose!” My voice is loud enough to shut up the rest of the rooftop. The customers stop booing, and the glares turn into confusion, including Ally’s. I rip the velvet box out of my pocket, knees deep in exasperation. “See? I had it all planned with the waiter and everything, and then you just…” I throw out my arm, directed at the engagement watch. “Did that. So technically, I was going to do it first.”

            Ally changes expressions four times in less than a second: from shock, to awe, to realization, to guilt. “Oh wow, I didn’t…” She looks at our waiter, then back at me. “You planned all of this just for me?”

            “Like I said, you deserve it.”

Her face scrunches in remorse, and my heart drops. How was she supposed to know that I’ve been secretly planning to propose for months now? Maybe if I had the balls to do it sooner, like she said, this wouldn’t have happened.

As much as she deserves this, she worked hard so I’d deserve it, too. I mean, come on. Look at that watch.

Ignoring the heavy stares from every angle, I clasp the box in both my hands, fingers ready to pry it open. I nod to Ally. “Same time. Let’s do it.”

She lifts her head up to meet my eyes, lips parted in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, why not? We’re in the same boat.”

Her face brightens, a grin stretching across. She positions her hands around the wooden box, the same as mine. “Okay. Three, two, one—”

We pull open our boxes simultaneously.

Ally’s breath hitches. Her eyes are locked onto the ring that I spent way too many hours picking out. A dark blue sapphire sits in the middle of a diamond halo, standing out against the 18K rose gold base. On the ring band, I paid extra to have an inscription engraved.

More than a bagel. It’s a reference to the oddly specific situation that led to the start of our relationship. Nobody besides her will get it at first glance. It’s also a timeless inside joke.

            She reads the engraving, choking out a breathless laugh, and blinks back the tears brimming in her eyes. “So I’m gonna ask again, and you only get one answer this time: Will you marry me, Kenny?”

            I crack a grin. “Only if you marry me.”

            “Deal.”

            She fastens the watch on my wrist. I slip the ring on her finger. The whole rooftop bursts into a frenzy of cheers. They only get louder when we close the gap between us.

Her hands lace around my neck, lips softer than velvet against mine. My arms snake to her waist, and butterflies rattle my rib cage like the first time we kissed.

            When we pull away, a heart-shaped firework frames her priceless smile with a pink backdrop. She wipes under her eye, and the warm hue reflects off the ring. “I love you, Kenny.”

            My throat tightens, and I feel like I could cry any second. This is the best night of my life.

            “I love you, too.”

Katie Collan (she/her) is a Jewish neurodivergent author who brings characters to life both textually and visually. She received a B.F.A. in film from New York Institute of Technology and wrote a short film that won the Best of Film award in the 2022 NYIT Film Festival. Off-screen, her short fiction has appeared in FLARE Magazine, Micromance Magazine, and Audience Askew, with one story winning first place in FLARE’s “Strength in Stories” contest. https://katiecollan.carrd.co/