Tell me if you hate it, and I’ll . . . scoot over and propose to that woman over there instead. No, I’m kidding. Is it okay?” I stare tearfully at the large pear-shaped diamond in its open, cushioned box. “It’s beautiful,” I manage to say. “Stunning.” Any minute now, the La Mimosa staff will spot the ring and this will no longer be a private conversation. I won’t be able to say no, surrounded by Italian waiters. I don’t want to say no. There’s a big, loud “YES” in my head. Tom looks delighted. “Try it on, see if it fits. If it doesn’t, I can get it altered. No, wait! Don’t try it on.” “Why not?’ “I think you need to accept first—officially. You need to say you want to marry me. Assuming you do. If you don’t, that’s fine. I’ll just wade into the River Cam with my pockets full of heavy stones. That’s why I picked this restaurant—the river’s right outside, full of the bodies of spurned suitors.”