Twelve years I lived with him as his wife, but when I asked to marry me, he laughed and said, “It’s just a piece of paper.” … I didn’t argue, but what he saw the next morning in the kitchen, for the first time made him really scared that he could lose me.

“This is our home,” I always said.

We opened a joint bank account, paid bills together, renovated the kitchen and took a small dog from the shelter.

All our friends and family considered us husband and wife.

Daniel even often jokingly represented me as his wife.

Only one was missing.

The wedding ring.

At first it didn’t bother me. I thought we had enough time. Then Daniel said that first it is necessary to deal with career. Later stated that it was necessary to repair the house. Then I said we needed to save more money.

Every year he found a new reason.

For the twelfth anniversary of our relationship, I booked a table in a beautiful restaurant. I didn’t expect a luxurious offer of hands and heart. I didn’t need hundreds of guests or a dear wedding.