The Proposal I Wasn't Supposed to Hear About
He proposed on a Tuesday. By Thursday she almost said no.
Names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals involved.
Daniel and I have been together four years. Four solid, stable, boring-in-a-good-way years. We met through a mutual friend at a barbecue in Subang, and within six months we were finishing each other's sentences like some annoying couple in a rom-com.
He proposed on a Tuesday night. Not at a fancy restaurant. Not on a beach. At our favourite mamak — the one near Section 17 that does the best roti canai in PJ. I was mid-bite when he pulled out the ring. Teh tarik getting cold, fluorescent lights humming overhead, some uncle at the next table watching the whole thing unfold like it was a drama on TV3.
I cried. He cried. The uncle clapped. It was messy and imperfect and exactly what I would have wanted. I said yes before he even finished asking.
Two days later, we went to his parents' house for dinner. His mum was warm, as always. She pulled me aside in the kitchen while Daniel was outside with his dad. She held my hand and smiled and said, very casually: "I'm glad Daniel finally listened. I told him — if by 30 he hasn't proposed, I'll find him a nice girl from our church."
She laughed. I laughed too. But it was the kind of laugh where your mouth is smiling and your stomach is falling.
The whole drive home, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Did he propose because he wanted to? Or because his mother gave him a deadline? Was Tuesday night his decision, or was it his mum's? Was I the love of his life, or was I just... convenient timing?
I asked him. I had to. I said it plainly: "Did your mum make you propose?"
He got defensive immediately. Not sad, not understanding — defensive. "She was joking lah," he said. "Why are you making this into a thing? I love you. Isn't that enough?"
But that's not what I asked. I didn't ask if he loved me. I asked if the proposal was his idea. And he never actually answered that question.
I keep going back to what his mum said. "I told him." Not "I suggested." Not "I hinted." She told him. And he listened. And now I'm wearing a ring that might mean everything or might just mean he ran out of time.
My friends say I'm overthinking it. Maybe I am. Four years is a long time. You don't stay four years with someone you don't love. But you also don't get defensive when someone asks a simple question — unless the answer is one you don't want to say out loud.
I haven't said no. I haven't given the ring back. But every time I look at it, I hear his mum's voice in that kitchen. And I think: if she hadn't said anything, would we still just be boyfriend and girlfriend?
I don't know if that question has an answer. But I know it deserves one.
Whose side are you on?
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A man who loves you but needed a nudge is different from a man who only proposed because he was cornered. The truth is probably somewhere in the messy middle — he loves her, yes, but would he have done it on his own terms, on his own timeline? That's the question she's really asking, and it's a fair one.
But the defensiveness is the real tell. A man confident in his decision doesn't need to shut the question down. He'd say, "Yes, my mum mentioned it, but I've been thinking about it for months." He'd hold her hand and make her feel chosen. Instead, he made her feel like she was being unreasonable for asking.
Only she can feel which one this is. But she deserves a real answer — not a deflection.