“This is the best birthday ever,” Charlie says, laughter dancing along the words. He hugs me tight, and I press my face into his hair, inhaling the scent of melons.

“Enough canoodling,” I say, pulling away. “I know you want to examine the car.”

He laughs. “I do. I can’t deny it.”

I watch his face as he walks around the car. He’s lit up from within, and even after over a year together, he still stops my breath. It’s not how gorgeous he is, although he will always be that to me. It’s more the fact that he’s mine and that I will never need anyone else. It’s a stunning thought.

My life has been filled with a lot of laughter and many men. Many, many men. I never believed in the love songs and books which told of one great love. I happily dismissed that as advertising crap designed to sell flowers and chocolates. And maybe it was for me, until one day I really looked at the person who was my best friend and I finally got my head out of my arse and realised that he was so much more.

My life is filled with a sweet steadiness and a fierce love for Charlie that goes beyond a song or flowers and chocolates. It’s coming back to our house at night and smelling the sweet candles. It’s feeling that lift in my stomach when I see him. It’s laughing with our friends, loving our families, and at night curling up together knowing we’ll do it all again tomorrow. It’s knowing that I will always have him on my side and that we will never forsake each other.

However, I learnt my lesson long ago about not being flippant in all areas, because Charlie occasionally needs that old romantic touch. I look down at the keys in my hand. And hopefully, this will be one of those. I smile. Who am I kidding? This is a bloody epic gesture.

“Have you got the keys?” Charlie exclaims, echoing my thoughts as he often does. “Let’s take this baby out.”

I throw him the keys with the Union Jack key ring on them, and he unlocks the door while chattering about which is the best way to Brighton, and I let him talk on, smiling because he hasn’t noticed the platinum wedding ring on the key ring at all. It catches the light, and while Charlie talks, I picture it sitting on that third finger of his left hand. I want it there by nighttime.

Like I said, I learnt my lesson, and I learnt it well because I am never letting go of my Charlie Sunshine.

Charlie Sunshine Short Story

Do you want to know how Misha proposed? There is a free short story ‘Brighton Rock’ which is available for subscribers to my newsletter.

You can find it here

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