My cheeks tingle from grinning like a fool after a whirlwind hour spent planning our fictional wedding in the group chat. Her sister sends, “Does this mean y’all are engaged?” I stare at the screen, heart fluttering in my throat. Our years-long joke suddenly isn’t a joke anymore, and deep yearning consumes me. The pandemic rages outside and the Atlantic lies between us, but through time zones and hospital rounds she keeps me grounded and my hope alive. Three dots appear as my future wife types a one-word reply, pulling me back from the edge of anxious oblivion.: “. . . Yes.”
Rachel Lightfoot is a disabled college science tutor and former medical student who loves writing creatively any chance she gets. rclightfoot.substack.com