‘Of course not,’ Drew says, taking a few more steps inside the apartment. ‘I just kind of assumed the proposal would be my job.’

‘Job?’ He may as well have said chore. This was not how she imagined their reunion would be going after several weeks apart.

‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘How else am I supposed to take it?’ They’ve been together for ten years and there’s still no ring on her finger.

He dumps his overnight bag on the table, precariously close to a vase of roses. ‘So, this is just a subtle hint?’

‘Come off it.’ She takes his bag from the table and makes a display of taking it the three extra steps to dump in their bedroom. Okay, so she might have made some very direct hints about the type of engagement ring she’d like over the years, but she hadn’t mentioned marriage in over a year. ‘You made it very clear how you feel.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ Drew says, clearly annoyed they’re going through old territory. ‘I want to buy our own place first. Be set up, like our parents were.’

Darcy fiercely stares him down. ‘I’ll be in the grave before we can afford to buy here.’ Stuff his stupid old-fashioned ideals.

‘There’s decent stuff on the market back home,’ Drew says. ‘We could buy a huge block out there for less than a unit in this city.’

Darcy suppresses a roll of her eyes. Not this again. ‘And I’ll what, get a job in regional television? We’ve discussed this, Drew. Sydney owns me.’

He gives her a resigned shrug and ruffles his hair in the same familiar way he’s done since primary school. He knows the script to this argument by heart now, too. Nothing has changed. Their disagreement still stands true. ‘It’ll happen, Darce. We’ll get there.’ His light brown eyes plead with her to soften.

She knows he wants to marry her so lets her frown uncurl. ‘Just so you know, this isn’t the kind of thing I want.’ Darcy refers to the room, feeling she needs to point that out, just in case he decides to file the scene away to recreate one day in the faraway future. She doesn’t need an over-the-top romantic gesture. A walk along the beach or dinner at their favourite restaurant or a Saturday afternoon picnic with a bottle of wine would all work quite perfectly … not that she’s given it all that much thought.

He sits down on the lounge. ‘So what is all this about then?’ He gestures to the candles and flowers.