Ever since he had participated in that celebrity track race over the Golden Gate Bridge, he had been acting moody and gloomy.
Not that he wasn't that before, but she didn't even seem to make him happy anymore. He just seemed depressed. She loved him
so much; she just couldn't stand to see him so sad. His job didn't even seem to make him happy.
One evening, as they sat on the sofa in his apartment, she massaging his tensed shoulders and he watching TV, she asked
him what was going on.
"Well, since the race, I've been reflecting about my past, my mistakes, and thinking that I wanna be a winner; I don't
want to lose all the incredible things I have. I've been thinking about my plans and goals for the future, too." He sighed,
running a hand through his jet-black hair. He turned towards her. "I don't wanna lose anything, especially you." His pale
blue eyes smiled at her.
"And you won't, sweetie. You'll never lose me." She thought he was so cute when he started acting serious.
"And to insure that I never will, I need to ask you a question about your future." he said.
"Okay." She stared at him puzzledly, a smile spreading over her lips.
"Would you do me the honor of being my wife?" he asked.
She was speechless.
"That's some goal." She finally said. "I think you can reach it."