I woke up with a dream.
And not the cute, aesthetic kind where i'm like in a pastel dress running through a lavender field holding a basket of macarons. No.
This dream was… symbolic. Deep. Like, borderline spiritual.
I was at a wedding.
My wedding.
Except—I was late. Like, Elara-level late. And everybody was already seated, the priest was sweating, and Cairo was standing there at the altar alone, looking like a rejected groom from a romcom where the girl decides last minute to chase her career instead.
But instead of crying or walking away like some tragic male lead, he took out a sandwich from his pocket and ate it.
WHAT. THE. HECK.
I woke up screaming.
Not from fear.
From confusion.
"WHY WOULD YOU HAVE A SANDWICH ON OUR WEDDING DAY?!" I yelled, sitting upright in bed like i just came back from the dead.
Cairo, still groggy beside me, blinked. "Babe, what?"
"I dreamt you were going to MARRY ME but I was LATE and then you ATE A SANDWICH INSTEAD OF WAITING!"
He blinked again. "What kind of sandwich?"
I gasped. "OH MY GOD. THAT'S YOUR RESPONSE?"
After five full minutes of dramatically explaining my dream like it was a cinematic masterpiece nominated for 12 Oscars, I stomped to the bathroom in a huff. Not because i was mad. But because i looked like a puffy onion.
I stared at myself in the mirror, tied my hair up in a messy bun that somehow still gave "hot rich girl who's too chaotic to care," and declared: "Today is the day. Cairo is so going to propose. I feel it."
He had been acting sus lately.
Like, super sneaky.
Last week, I caught him whispering with Green—my cactus. And not like cute baby talk. Like… full sentences.
And then i saw him close a tab on his laptop SO FAST, he almost dislocated his wrist.
Also, why was he suddenly interested in ring sizes? Hmm?
Dun dun dunnnn.
I knew it. Today was the day.
Of course, I had to look the part.
I wasn't going to let him propose to me while i was wearing his old college shirt that says "Cebu National Math Quiz Bowl 2010." Like, I love that shirt. But it doesn't scream, "marry me now, daddy."
So i got dressed.
And by "got dressed," I mean i tried on fourteen different outfits before settling on a pink slip dress with a dramatic slit, gold heels that made me feel like a Bratz doll, and sunglasses that screamed "I'm hot, rich, and probably a little bit delulu."
Also, I wore perfume. Like, the perfume.
The one that says "I'm ready to be a wife and make pancakes in lingerie."
Even if we were just going to lunch.
In a mall.
With his cousins.
WHATEVER.
The proposal could come anytime.
We were at this super bougie restaurant that served like… art disguised as food.
You know the type.
The salad looked like a Pinterest mood board. The steak was shaped like a heart. The water tasted like it had goals and a LinkedIn profile.
And I was trying to act chill. Like, "Oh wow, I totally didn't paint my nails this morning just in case there's a ring on my finger later."
But Cairo was calm.
TOO calm.
I was sipping my overpriced virgin mojito, staring at him over the rim like i know your secrets, sir.
But he was laughing with his cousin, passing mashed truffle potatoes like nothing was going on.
So i did what any emotionally unstable woman would do in that moment.
I fake fainted.
Yup.
I tilted my head dramatically, clutched my chest, and whispered, "Oh no… my future flashed before my eyes…"
And then i leaned back in my chair like i was about to be reincarnated.
He caught me mid-swoon. "Elara, what the—are you okay?!"
"I saw it," I gasped. "A vision. Of a man who still hasn't proposed to me."
He closed his eyes like he was praying for strength.
I grinned. "Just kidding! But like… not really."
We were walking in the mall after lunch. I was clinging to his arm like a clingy girlfriend from an anime series. We passed by this jewelry store, and i pretended not to look.
I definitely looked.
He tugged me gently. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just wondering what it feels like to wear something sparkly on that finger," I said, very casually, like i didn't already Photoshop my name beside his on wedding invites.
He smirked. "Elara."
"Yes?"
"You're not subtle."
"I don't believe in subtlety. I believe in manifestation."
Then i struck a pose in front of the glass display. "Babe. Picture me. Walking into your life. Forever. Wearing that ring. With that sparkle. The crowd goes wild."
"I think you scared the saleslady."
I waved at her. "Hi po, ate! Baka naman…"
-
Later that night, I was still annoyed.
HE HAD THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY.
The restaurant was vibey.
The lights were dim.
There was a piano. A WHOLE PIANO.
But did he propose?
NO.
So i decided to pout.
And not the cute kind.
The full-on bratty, lying-on-the-floor, "no one loves me" kind.
Cairo walked into the bedroom holding a bowl of popcorn and immediately paused.
"Elara."
I was facedown on the bed, limbs sprawled like a dead starfish.
"Elara, what now."
I rolled over slowly, dramatically. "You don't love me."
He blinked. "Because i didn't propose at a steakhouse with your entire TikTok fanbase secretly filming?"
"Yes."
He walked over, put the bowl down, and sat beside me. "You are… literally insane."
I pouted harder. "You don't love me. I should marry someone else. Like Green. He would never do this to me."
"He's a cactus."
"He has emotional availability."
Cairo stared at me. And then—
He burst out laughing.
And i blinked. "What?"
He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a tiny velvet box.
A. TINY. VELVET. BOX.
OH.
MY.
GOD.
I SCREAMED.
"YOU HAD THAT THE WHOLE TIME?!" I yelled, sitting up so fast I smacked my head on the headboard.
"Ow—wait—babe—calm down—"
"NO. I AM NOT CALM. I AM HYPERVENTILATING. WHERE IS THE PAPER BAG?!"
"Elara—"
"MY RING SIZE IS FIVE. I CAN FIT IN CHILDREN'S SHOES. JUST PUT IT ON—"
"LET ME SAY THE SPEECH FIRST."
I paused.
He knelt beside the bed.
I gasped again. "Oh my God, you're kneeling—this is it—IS THIS IT—CAIRO—IS THIS ITTTTTTTTTT—"
"Elara Celestine Zulueta," he said, finally calm, smiling like i was the most chaotic disaster he ever loved. "You are the most ridiculous, dramatic, loving person i've ever met. And even though you burned my kitchen, screamed in the bakery, and fake proposed to me in six different stores—"
"Seven."
"Seven," he corrected, laughing. "I love you. And i want to spend every single day of my life watching you be absolutely out of your mind. With me. Forever."
I gasped so hard, I swear my lungs did a backflip.
"So, my love—my lunatic—my favorite girl—will you marry me?"
I stared at him.
Then at the ring.
Then back at him.
"OH MY GOD FINALLY—YES—DUH—PUT IT ON ME NOW—"
He slid it on my finger and i did a little victory lap around the room. Literally. I ran in circles like a child who just won a Happy Meal toy.
"WAIT—WHERE'S MY PHONE—I NEED TO GO LIVE—"
"Elara, no."
"THE WORLD MUST KNOW!"
"Elara!"
"Fine. I'll post it later. WITH SPARKLES AND MUSIC."
I spent the rest of the night admiring my ring under every possible lighting condition.
Kitchen light. Check.
Flashlight. Check.
Candlelight. Check.
I even stuck my hand inside the fridge just to see how it sparkled against the yogurt cups.
And Cairo?
He just watched me with that same look.
The one that says I am so in love with this woman, even if she's three seconds away from turning our wedding into a themed flash mob.
Which i might actually do.
Stay tuned.