I took stock of the situation.
The camera crew, having jumped out from behind the now obviously deliberately planted bushes, and the red light on the camera saying that they were, at best recording, but more likely broadcasting live.
The woman, on one knee before me, a ring in her hand as she looked up at me.
The hundreds of years of sexist tradition I reflexedly wanted to subvert.
No easy escape routes.
A heart that didn't truly love her, hell, anyone, not even myself.
It took a moment longer than it should have, but I gave her an answer.
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