Rebecca stared at him, sure that she’d misheard somehow. “What... what did you just say?”
“Will you marry me?” Nico repeated.
To his horror, her eyes filled with angry tears. “Is this your idea of a joke?” she snapped, bolting up from the couch and shouldering her bag as if she was preparing to run.
“Wait—Rebecca, please, don’t go,” he begged, moving to stand between her and the door. “I’m not joking, not at all. Just hear me out. Please.”
She stood, trembling, clutching the strap of her bag as her tear-filled eyes darted from him to the door. “I... I don’t understand.”
“Sit down,” he said, keeping his voice as soft and soothing as he could, “and I’ll explain everything.”
Reluctantly, she sat. “I think I will have some water, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Grateful for the task, he crossed over to his mini-fridge and got them each a bottle of water.
She twisted the cap off of hers and drank deeply. “Now,” she said, eyeing him with suspicion, “what’s this about?”