That’s when I realize what the song is. Bruno Mars’s smooth voice belts out, “I think I wanna marry you.” I get it. I get what’s happening. I clap a hand to my mouth; I feel giddy and so absurdly relieved. I walk toward him.

“Eliza, I can’t promise you that we’re going to fall in love, or grow old together, or stay together forever, but I can promise you this: you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, and I want to give us a try,” Raj says. “I really care about you, you know? And if that means helping you out, that’s what I’ll do.”

I’m so flooded with gratitude I can only nod and eke out, “Thank you so much.”

But then there’s more. Raj looks around at the jewelry cases. He shoves his hands in his pockets nervously.

“I wanted to do this properly,” he says. “And I imagine you have enough fancy rings of your own. But I . . . I brought you something, and I’d like to give it to you.”

He takes out a small, colorful package and tears it open to reveal a red Ring Pop on a purple piece of plastic. He gazes down at it and then back up to me.

“You told me you used to love these when you were a kid, back when you first dreamed about opening your own jewelry store,” he says. “I know this is silly and nothing much, but I thought this would remind you of how important that dream is, and how—together—we can make sure it stays a reality.”

“Oh my god, Raj,” I say, eyes wide. “You didn’t. This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

I move toward him to kiss him, but he holds up his hand.

“Wait, let me do this,” he says.

He sinks down onto one knee and holds up the Ring Pop as an offering. “Eliza, would you do me the honor of fake-marrying me?”

Unlike my last proposal, this time around I’m bursting with enthusiasm to say yes. I can’t get the words out fast enough.

“Yes, of course, yes. Raj, you’re incredible. Yes!”

He stands and carefully slides the Ring Pop onto my finger. It’s a little snug (it’s made for a child, after all), but somehow it’s perfect for this moment. I throw my arms around his neck to kiss him.