That Edith Piaf song? Does not apply.

I drop my fork onto my plate and look up at Derek who smiles at me, a little shakily, before lowering himself down onto one knee. For a second, I really have no clue what he's doing and I'm about to ask him when he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box.

Then understanding hits me like a missile.

"Skye," he says, and my name is steeped in reverence and adoration.

I'm frozen in my seat, my heart beating like I'm running a marathon.

My mind can barely process what is happening, the fact that's it's happening again. We already did this, I want to say, but my voice is stuck somewhere in the pit of my stomach.

Derek is still smiling. He flips the box open. Inside is a ring—not my original ring. The simple, elegant gold band inscribed with the date Derek and I met in the rain is currently on my finger. I haven't had the heart to take it off yet. So now there is a second ring. Sitting innocently in this box right here.

And this one is definitely different. For one thing, the new one isn't gold. It has an oval-cut diamond that sparkles in the candlelight, set in a delicate platinum band. A halo of smaller diamonds embraces the center stone. The band itself is slender, even more so than that of my original ring. I can't help but gasp seeing it.

I feel dizzy.

"I know I've already asked you this before," Derek says, his voice soft, filled with a level of sincerity that hurts my heart. "But after everything that happened I feel like I want a new start. And you deserve one, too."

I stare at him, at the ring, at the unwavering devotion in his eyes.

*Hi! Wake up! This isn't real!* the mean little voice in my head bleats.

But it is. It is happening right now and if I pinched myself, nothing would change. I would still be staring at a ring that, at least to me, looks outrageously expensive.

I made this real. Derek wouldn't have bought this if it weren't for the spell. Instinctively, I glance down at my hand, at the ring I wasn't able to get rid of, even after he'd dumped me in a stupid, gaudy bakery.

My pulse pounds in my ears, loud enough to drown out everything else. Derek keeps smiling valiantly, his eyes filled with hopeful expectation as he poses the question a second time.

"Skye Faulkner, will you marry me?"

What am I supposed to do? I can't say 'no' now, can I?

*Wait, do I want to say 'no'?*

I don't have an answer, that's the only truth there is.

Derek's no longer the man he used to be, but he didn't change. I'm the one who forced change on him. He has no clue. If he had a choice, he wouldn't even be here. I can't un-know that. I should say no, that would be the right thing to do, wouldn't it? And then I should come clean, I should tell him everything that happened and then there'd be consequences and I have no idea what those would look like.

Would he leave? Would telling him the truth dispel whatever I did to him? Would he get angry? Might he become dangerous?

I swallow thickly, my throat dry. The taste of chocolate on my tongue is turning bitter. I don't know what Derek is capable of now. I haven't seen him lose his temper yet. I know how he was before. Avoidant and quiet. But new Derek? I just can't tell. This is a guy who can't stand it when I spend the evening with my friend instead of him, a guy who goes to her house to check on me despite knowing that I wouldn't want that. He crosses lines. So far, everything's been fairly tame, but is it going to stay that way?

*That's a great foundation for marriage, not knowing what your partner might be capable of,* I catch myself thinking, sarcasm surfacing as some kind of twisted coping mechanism. *Keeps the whole thing surprising!*

"Skye?"

*Uh-oh, I've kept him waiting too long.*

A crease has formed between Derek's brows. He raises his box up a little higher, bringing it closer to my face. The sparkling diamonds catch the light and my hand moves as if by its own volition. I'm not sure whether I want to take it or shield myself from it.

"It's really beautiful," I hear myself mumble and I wonder what kind of face I'm making right now. Scared? Stunned? Surprised Pikachu?

How come I'm so overwhelmed and caught off guard by his uber-romantic gesture, when he's just playing out the program I magically implemented?

Derek squeezes my hand. His fingers are warm and strong, his eyes are shining with a deep conviction that borders on religious fervor. Right now, he adores me, right now, I'm all he's ever wanted.

When he first proposed to me, months ago, under a grey-ish blue sky, the leaves rustling in the breeze, he was kneeling on a picnic blanket as he offered the simple gold wedding band to me. I didn't hesitate to say yes back then, not for a second. I'd been waiting for the proposal for a year, expecting it on my birthday, at Christmas, even on regular nights at home when the mood seemed to get more romantic or quiet and pensive. Needless to say, I wasn't surprised when it happened. Truth be told, I was relieved.

There is this part of me, the ugly, old-fashioned part that felt like the proposal was confirmation that I had worth. That if it hadn't happened, that meant I had failed some kind of test. That I wasn't good enough for Derek. And that he was the one who got to decide that, that I as the woman had to measure up to his standards until I would be elevated from girlfriend to wife. I hate that part of myself.

Derek is waiting patiently for me to make my decision. This time, it feels like I'm truly the one in charge. Like my word can make or break him. This moment isn't an afterthought, it's not a mere rung on the ladder of life or a rite of passage for him. He wants this. He wants me.

And nothing else. That's what the look in his eyes tells me.

"Okay," I whisper. It's the most tepid response ever. It's not what you're supposed to say when someone proposes to you, even if it's for the second time, but I can't muster anything more because of the guilt. My stomach is a pit of toxic acid and I feel like the lasagna and chocolate cake are mixing in the most unholy ways.

I love him; he loves me. That's all I wanted. Now I have it. Too bad it only happened after I put a hex on him.

Derek's eyes widen and his face breaks into a huge smile. To my surprise, he has to let go of my hand to wipe a tear from his eyes. He's so happy and relieved his lip visibly quivers.

"Thank you, Skye. You won't regret this, I swear."