He exited the building, musing that, the next time he would return, he would be a brand new man: an engaged one. Tim took the train back to Brooklyn, stopping at a local florist for the bouquet of roses and the nearby liquor store for the wine. He held them both in one hand, using the other to feel the small grey box resting in his pocket; it seemed to grow heavier with the gravity of what he was about to do. He stood outside of the apartment building for a full five minutes, mentally reviewing the scene in his head, going over what he wanted to say, how he would say it, and when he would get down on one knee and ask the love of his life to become his wife.

He entered the brownstone and climbed the two flights of stairs effortlessly, feeling both nervous and excited as he neared his lan...

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