SENTIMENT
EPISODE ONE
The soft, perpetual hum of computers filled the modern office. Ryan and Jeffery were with two elegantly dressed colleagues, Mia and Lesley. The conversation had turned, as it often did, to Jeffery's status as the last unmarried man in their social circle.
"Jeffery," Ryan began, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. "Seriously, why is marriage permanently off your radar? It's like you've built a fortress around your heart."
Jeffery paused his typing, his eyes flickering away from the screen before he feigned deep concentration on an email.
"Jeffery!" Ryan's voice was a soft, firm blade, cutting through the pretense. With a sigh, Jeffery stopped typing, leaned back in his leather chair, and studied Ryan's face. "I think marriage is for two people ready to face whatever life throws at them. I'm not prepared to sign my vulnerable heart up for a lifetime of potential distress."
"My friend, you make it sound like a prison sentence. It's not that complicated," Ryan countered, spreading his hands.
"Isn't it? That's exactly what people say, until the bed they share becomes a silent battlefield."
Mia burst into laughter, quickly covering her mouth as she giggled.
"Mia, this isn't funny," Ryan chided, though a smile threatened his own lips.
"I'm sorry, Ryan, but it is," Mia said, composing herself. "Jeffery is just terrified of getting hurt, and he is hiding behind these clever, poetic lines. It is a pity, really. You can't spend your life trying to have the upper hand in a game that isn't meant to be won, but shared."
"And it is terrifying," Jeffery shot back, his voice gaining intensity, "when someone holds your heart and only sees a checklist of their immediate needs."
Lesley, who had been quietly placing a file on her desk, now turned her gaze to them, her presence suddenly filling the space between them. "Women are not a monolith, Jeffery. We are like different genres of music. The trick is to find the melody you connect with—one that protects your peace, not disrupts it."
Jeffery looked genuinely impressed, a slow smile gracing his features. "That was beautifully put. A voice that could guide a man through a storm."
Mia coughed pointedly. "We are still at the office, Jeffery. Save the date proposals for five o'clock."
A faint blush colored Lesley's cheeks as she shot Mia a look. Both women turned to Jeffery, awaiting his response.
"Look," Ryan interjected, breaking the tense silence. "You are one of the best guys I know. All I'm saying is you could use a partner. Let us help you find one before the year is over."
"Ryan, you are starting to sound like a matchmaking service with a year-end quota," Mia said with a sparkling smile. "But do you even know what Jeffery's 'ideal woman' looks like?"
A gentle, self-deprecating laugh escaped Jeffery.
"Jeffery, maybe you should be bold enough to tell us if I've just described her," Lesley ventured, her tone light but her eyes intent, holding his for a fraction too long.
The group shared a knowing, harmonious laugh.
Later, Ryan's car cut through the dense city traffic as they headed home, the skyline bleeding into twilight.
"I still can't believe how Mr. Odunayo spoke to Lesley about that contract," Jeffery said, frowning at the passing lights. "It was completely out of line."
"He's the boss, Jeffery," Ryan reminded him, eyes fixed on the road. "That's the beginning and end of the story."
"You always defend him."
"I'm not defending him.I'm stating a cold, hard fact. He signs our paychecks. What can we do?"
"We can remember that it is no one's right to condemn another. There is a way to rebuke with love."
"These people don't care about'God's law,' Jeffery. Their only commandment is 'Thou shalt not lose money.' Fail, and you are out. It's that simple."
"It is a bleak way to live. Being held accountable for circumstances beyond anyone's control."
"You are getting deep,my friend."
"I'm just applying common sense."
"Or," Ryan said with a sly grin, "you're just defending Lesley."
Jeffery gave him a disappointed look, but Ryan pressed on. "Which reminds me, she did ask if she fit your description. What do you really think of her?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jeffery deflected, turning to look out the window.
"We'll see, Jeffery. We'll see."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Your ideal woman."Ryan paused for dramatic effect. "So, who is she?"
"Someone who genuinely, effortlessly, captures my attention. Speaking of, can you drop me off at Maris's place? She should be home."
"You two are still trying to work things out?"
"I'm hopeful it will be more than just'trying.'"
"Hmm. The path is never smooth, is it? But we keep at it, hoping to wear a real smile at the end of it all."
Ryan pulled up to Maris's apartment building. Jeffery got out, and, with a deep, fortifying breath, knocked on her door.
The door clicked open, revealing Maris. A surprised, pleased smile spread across her face.
"Jeffery. You finally decided to come by." Her voice was warm and genuine, like honey. "How delightful. Please, come in."
Jeffery offered a faint, weary smile and stepped inside, settling heavily onto her plush couch.
"How was your day?" she asked, perching elegantly on the armrest beside him.
"Survivable," he murmured, the word heavy with unspoken fatigue.
"Can I get you something? Whiskey? Beer?"
"Just your attention, Maris. This is important." The weight in his voice made her slide down to sit properly beside him, her posture straightening.
He met her gaze, his eyes searching the depths of hers. "Maris, I've tried so hard to be the man you want—trustworthy, nurturing, present. But I feel like I'm facing a mountain I can't climb. You always say your ideal man must 'have much to offer.' I don't possess the universe, Maris. I don't have all its riches."
"Jeffery," she said softly, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "You don't need the universe to win my heart. But love is not just about saying 'I love you.' It is about action. And I don't mean spending money. I mean the things you do. The consistency."
"What's wrong with the words, if you mean them?" he asked, his voice soft but firm, a plea for understanding.
"Words without action are like faith without works. They are just… beautiful noise."
"Then define 'action' for me. Your definition, not anyone else's."
"Action is what binds two hearts. It is what mends a broken connection. It is showing up, day after day. If you need a clearer manual, Jeffery, maybe ask your married friends."
"I don't want a manual. I want to rely on something real. Joy doesn't just happen; it has to be planted and nurtured. I thought we were planting something together."
"And I've had men plant pretty words that turned to weeds," Maris countered, her tone turning defensive. "I've heard 'I love you' more times than I can count, only to be left with nothing but the echo. I need more than an echo, Jeffery."
"But words can be a foundation," he insisted, leaning forward. "A solid, honest base to build everything else on."
"A foundation for what? Men build beautiful bonds with ulterior motives all the time. They see our beauty and only want what's beneath it for their own temporary satisfaction."
"I'm not one of those men, Maris. I'm not here for a 'sweet adventure.'"
She took a sharp, pained breath. "Maybe not. But women often suffer more from men than the other way around. That's a truth you can't ignore."
"And this 'action' you crave," Jeffery said, his voice rising slightly, "It can be the easiest deception of all. A snare of grand gestures that leads straight to emotional pain. Sometimes, hearing a truth, plainly spoken, is safer than being blinded by a beautiful lie."
Maris looked at him, a flicker of genuine hurt in her eyes.
"You just need to hear the words from someone who truly means them," he pressed, his own frustration mounting. "Empty action can ruin you for years."
"And empty words can leave you waiting a lifetime. Talk is cheap, Jeffery. You of all people should know that."
"If I understand you, you are saying 'talk is cheap.' But I've learned that talk is an investment. It is how we promote understanding. Without it, we are just two strangers guessing in the dark."
"Then invest in something I can see! If someone talks and acts, even if it is merely to deceive me, I will respect the effort. At least I got something tangible. Every woman has her preferences. You have to learn to work with them."
"Maybe I do understand," Jeffery said, standing up, the fight draining out of him, replaced by a hollow resignation. "But I came here ready for commitment, and it feels like you are rejecting my proposal—to love you every day of my life—because I'm not presenting it the right way."
"I wanted you to read my heart like a fine book, Jeffery. To see the interesting content without me having to spell out every chapter."
He sighed, utterly defeated. "I always think about the results of my actions, Maris. And if the path I'm sincerely asking you to walk just makes you uncomfortable…" He trailed off, heading for the door.
"I'm just a woman trying to be careful! I would rather not be treated in a way that only delights a man. I want more than three words. Is that so difficult to focus on?"
"I can see I can't persuade you. I hope I understand you now." His hand was on the cool, brass doorknob. "I prefer to focus on the water that flows and cleanses, not the bread that sits and sogs in a glass. No one wants anything more than to be happy."
"People just find happiness in different ways," Maris said, her voice quieter now, laced with a sad finality.
"We can't rule that out," he agreed softly.
A heavy, suffocating silence hung between them.
"I should go."
"Sure."
As he opened the door, her voice stopped him, one last time.
"Jeffery!Remember what I said. When you are in a dark tunnel, you need to put on a light. I want to see action. I hope to see proof."
"I will think about it," he said, not turning back. "But I don't think love needs proof, woman." The last words were a murmur as he left, closing the door softly on what had been.
Jeffery walked into his apartment at 8 pm, the weight of the day pressing on his shoulders like a physical burden. He tossed his keys into a ceramic bowl, the clatter echoing in the stillness, and turned on the stereo. A Westlife song filled the room, a familiar balm:
"Everybody is looking for something… You find it in the strangest places…"
The music was a sanctuary. He sank onto the couch, closing his eyes, letting the melody wash over him.
"Some find it in the face of their children, some find it in their lover's eyes…"
A sudden, vivid flashback: Maris looking at him, her expression a complex mix of hope, frustration, and unyielding expectation. There was something there he couldn't reconcile, a fundamental disconnect.
"You're flying without wings…"
He groaned and threw himself back against the cushions, running a hand over his face.
"Some find it sharing every morning… You'll find it in the words of others; a simple line can make you laugh or cry…"
Now it was Lesley's face he saw, her calm intelligence as she spoke to him at the office. "Women are like different genres of music…" Her voice was clear, a lighthouse in his fog.
"You'll find it in the deepest friendship…"
The impulse was sudden and powerful, an instinct he could no longer ignore. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over her name before he pressed call, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Lesley was entering her apartment, dropping her bag by the door, when her phone rang. She pulled it from her purse and stopped in her tracks, her breath catching.
Jeffrey?Her heart did a little, unexpected flip. In over two years, he had never once called her.
He must be going through something,she thought, a thrill of excitement mixing with genuine concern. She walked into the kitchen, letting it ring once more before answering, steadying her voice.
"Jeffery? Is everything alright?"
"Let's just say I'm looking for comfort in an unusual place," he said, his voice soft, intimate over the line.
Lesley laughed, a light, surprised sound. "I'm amazed you called. This is a historic first."
"I was always afraid to trust my instincts before. To follow the music."
"And what motivated this change of heart?"
"Let's call it… a new, deliberate focus on the positive things in life." His tone was warm, confessional.
"You sound like a man who has found a song that actually speaks to him," she teased, leaning against her kitchen counter.
"You are reading into things, Lesley. Besides, what do you know about music?" he teased back, a smile in his voice.
"Are you genuinely asking?"
Jeffery chuckled, getting up for a glass of water. "Enlighten me. Please."
"Music is the sound of a life being lived. The good, the bad, the hopeful, the broken. It guides and inspires. It lifts a weary heart." Her voice was thoughtful, melodic. "So, what are you listening to, Jeffery?"
"I've sampled countless genres. Nothing ever really moved me. I'm starting to doubt any music can."
"Why not try country?" she suggested, her tone playful yet sincere.
"Country? What's the benefit there? All broken trucks and lost dogs."
"It's honest. It doesn't promise a life free from heartache, but it gives you the strength to face it. It is about resilience. About home."
"How does a man start listening?"
"You start by introspecting. See how the truth in it resonates with your own heart."
"Fine. Why don't we meet? You can be my guide. My curator of country."
"Just tell me when and where. I'll bring the playlist."
"I'll text you the details tomorrow." He felt a deep, genuine pleasure spread through him, warm and calming.
"It was nice that you called, Jeffery. Truly."
"Thank you for answering. And for your words tonight… it was an enlightening reflection."
"I hope it leads you where you need to be," she said softly. "Where love is the answer to your questions."
"We'll find out soon enough."
"If you say so. Good night, Jeffery."
"Good night, Lesley."
As the call ended, Lesley leaned back on her couch, a slow, wondrous smile spreading across her face. Her mind drifted to the conversation with Mia earlier that day, leaning against Mia's car under the pale afternoon sun.
"Relationships need commitment, inspiration, and openness," Lesley had mused, watching the traffic flow.
"And you think Dave is wearing a mask?" Mia had asked, applying lip gloss in the rearview mirror.
"He might be a light, but hoping he is the perfect partner is probably a waste of time. He sings a catchy tune, but the lyrics are empty."
"It makes sense if he takes you to that beautiful island you always talk about," Mia pointed out. "Jason is a man of action. That is what impressed me. He didn't just talk about a future; he built it."
"That is just it. Action without a beautiful, underlying melody is just… noise. It is like living in a mansion but sleeping in an empty, silent room."
"Lesley, you have all these beautiful, poetic ideas, but it sounds like you are waiting for someone to share them with."
"I suppose I am. But there needs to be a longing, sincerely expressed, before I can focus my heart on it. A true note to harmonize with."
"Wait," Mia had said, her eyes widening with sudden insight. "Don't tell me you already have someone in mind. How long have you had feelings for Jeffery? Why didn't you tell me?"
"He wants to build a foundation. The right way. I wanted to be sure of his intentions first, to see if his words had roots."
"And what do you assume you know about love?"
"Love is like a fascinating book, Mia. It is full of motivation and guidance. It has its own melody. Likewise, it is the source of the music itself."
"The source of music…" Mia had repeated, pondering the depth of the statement.
Now, back in her quiet apartment, Lesley hugged a cushion to her chest. For the first time in a long time, it felt like she was no longer adrift, but gently drifting toward a safe harbour.
Meanwhile, Mia was at home with her husband, Jason. He was lying in bed, scrolling on his tablet, while she sat beside him, her mind elsewhere, buzzing with the day's conversations.
"Darling?" she said, her voice cutting through the quiet.
"I'm all ears,"he replied, turning to face her, setting the tablet aside.
"Where does music come from?"
Jason considered it, intrigued by the question. "From life. Our actions and experiences, the sum of our days. It is a creative expression of both our actions and our experiences."
"The essence of life…" Mia murmured, intrigued. She couldn't hold back. "Lesley told me today that music comes from love."
"That's a profound insight," Jason said, his voice appreciative, almost wistful. "I wonder where she finds these things. That depth."
"Deep and insightful?" Mia's tone sharpened slightly, a needle of insecurity. "What are you implying?"
"It makes perfect sense. Love is like singing. They're parallel forces. Love makes us drop our masks, and so does good music." He sat up, warming to his theme. "When you are heartbroken, you sing through tears. When you are happy, you sing with unbridled excitement. Music is the pure, unfiltered expression of it all."
"So, you think Lesley is right?"
"Undoubtedly."
"I suppose I share that sentiment," he said, his gaze drifting away from her.
"Perhaps she knows what brings her comfort," Mia mused, watching him carefully. "But she forgets others can't predict how things will turn out. We have to work with what we have."
"Maybe she is the kind of woman who wants a partner for the cloudy days and the fields of knee-deep grass," Jason said, a sudden, wistful edge to his voice. "She probably understands that not everything in life can be changed, but you face it all together, in harmony."
Mia looked at him, her brow furrowed, a cold knot tightening in her stomach. "Where are you going with this, Jason?"
"Think of it this way: clarity is the opposite of cloudiness, right?"
"Yes."
"So,what is unclear can't bring joy. A cloudy day is sad. A field of green grass is beauty and happiness. Your friend understands life is a mix of both. She wants a partner who sees that, too, who doesn't just seek the sun but appreciates the texture of the clouds."
"Jason," Mia said, her voice small and wounded. "What does this say about me? As your wife?"
There was a heavy, loaded pause. The air in the room grew thick.
"I sometimes wish you were more like Lesley.We hold onto so many unimportant things—grudges, minor victories. If we could let them go, we could add so much more meaning to our lives… to this marriage."
Mia stared at him, stung, the words landing like physical blows. "I… I don't understand. I thought we were happy."
"Just think about it," he said, his voice final, closing off. He turned away, wrapping himself in the surrounding blanket. "Right now, I need to sleep."
Mia lay down beside him, her body rigid, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, the silence between them louder and more dissonant than any music.
Ryan's call came as Jeffery was tidying his living room, the morning sun streaming in.
"Ryan! Don't tell me you're at the office already," Jeffery answered, a genuine smile in his voice.
"On my way. I'm calling to see how your evening with Maris went. Don't spare me the details."
A long sigh travelled down the line. "It is the same old story, Ryan. A beautiful, heartbreaking record stuck on a skip."
"Then maybe it is time to look at the new path right in front of you. The one you've been ignoring. See where it leads."
"What path is that?" Jeffery asked, playing dumb as he sat on the couch, a smile tugging at his lips.
"You know exactly what I mean. Every so often the real treasure isn't what's glittering on the surface, but what you find when you look closer. I'm giving you my full endorsement, Jeffery. Wholeheartedly."
"I'm not sure if I follow your cryptic advice."
"Lesley looks at you," Ryan said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "the way a woman looks at a man she's completely, quietly, in love with."
Jeffery laughed, a short, surprised sound. "Are you drunk on sweet wine, or has someone been feeding you information?"
"Let me be direct. This is serious. She's beautiful, she's smart, and she's kind. Open your eyes, my friend, before that light stops shining for you."
Jeffery paused, then surrendered, the truth wanting to be spoken. "To be completely transparent… I thought about it last night. I've already arranged to meet her today."
"What? How did you manage that? What did you say?"
"Let's just say… a satisfying future lies in the moments that inspire us to be brave."
"And what inspired this particular bravery?" Ryan pressed, eager for the details.
"The moment you truly listen to a good song, my friend. You finally hear the lyrics."
"Ah, I should have known," Ryan laughed, heartily. "You never miss a beat."
"And you were right," Jeffery admitted, his tone softening with genuine awe. "Lesley… she's the kind of woman I never thought existed. She has the qualities of the Proverbs 31 woman. Strength and dignity are her clothing."
"I'm happy for you, Jeffery. Truly. Call me later. I want all the details."
"Absolutely."
"See you then."
Mia's call found Lesley just as she was finishing getting ready, applying a final touch of perfume.
"Mia, hi! How are Jason and the kids?"
"All well.Jason took them to see their grandmother for the day."
"And left you alone on a weekend?"Lesley protested lightly, though she heard the strain in Mia's voice.
"A wife needs her quiet moments too,"she said, her voice shifting, becoming more vulnerable. "I'm calling because… I learned a lot from what you said yesterday."
"Oh? I know I was a bit verbose. Which part are you referring to?"
"The part where music comes from love.I discussed it with Jason last night. It made me realize that what is important to him is… different from what I thought. Being a supportive spouse, a true partner, is more important than accidentally being a hindrance."
"We can always build something that lasts if the intent is genuine," Lesley offered gently.
"I want my husband to sing beautiful songs about me, Lesley. I want to be his muse, not his manager."
"Then cultivate the right atmosphere,she said softly. "Make your home a place where music can happen."
"That is why I'm calling. Can we hang out today? I need… a guide."
"I'm booked today,Mia. I'm meeting Jeffery in an hour."
The silence on the line was palpable. "Lesley," Mia finally said, feigning offence but unable to hide a thread of genuine hurt. "When did this happen, and when was I voted off the island?"
Lesley laughed, a warm, reassuring sound. "A flower can bloom in any season, Mia. You don't delay nurturing it. I just took the first step on a new path. I'm not leaving you out."
"I admire you," Mia said, her tone a complex mix of sincerity and wistfulness. "My husband finds you very intriguing. I think he wishes I were more like you."
The comment hung in the air, awkward and heavy. "Let's meet tomorrow," Lesley said, deftly changing the subject, not wanting to navigate that particular minefield.
"Call me.I want every single detail. Have fun."
"Everyone wants a happy marriage,Mia. We just have to learn what is most important to focus on. The melody, not just the noise."
Lesley ended the call, the subtle tension with Mia a faint, troubling cloud on an otherwise bright and promising morning.
In the quiet corner of a sun-drenched restaurant, the atmosphere was undeniably, electrically, that of a first date.
"Lesley," Jeffery began, swirling the water in his glass, "there are times a man shouldn't deny himself the privilege of saying what is on his mind, even if he risks being laughed at. What do you think?"
"I think," she said, holding his gaze with an intelligent, playful light in her eyes, "men should not say things unless they are ready for an answer they might not like. The truth is a two-way street."
"But if he never says anything, he will never know. So, before I lose my nerve… I cherish you. I find you more fascinating than anything that has ever held my attention."
"That is the kind of music I like to hear," she said, a slight, knowing smile playing on her lips. "But not when it feels like a well-rehearsed line."
"It is not a line." He leaned forward, his voice dropping, all playfulness gone, replaced by raw sincerity. "I've had my share of woes, Lesley. Emotional torture. It taught me that it is tragic for a man to love and lose, but it is more tragic to never love at all. A woman was fashioned from a man's rib. It is only fair he opens his heart to acknowledge how perfectly one can fit into his life. It can make his life remarkable. And that is where I am, right here with you, hoping it will be different with you by my side."
"Men say things like that when they are aimless," Lesley probed, needing to be certain, to pierce through the poetry to the man beneath. "Like a ship docked without a destination."
"Maybe," he conceded with a small shrug. "But all I see this morning is a ship in perfect shape, ready to take you across the ocean to that island you truly want to be on. I have a destination now, Lesley. It's you."
She laughed, a genuine, surprised sound that lit up her face. "You sound just like Mia!"
"I'm just a man who is not trying to fall in love,"he said, his intensity returning, capturing her laughter and holding it. "I just have. It's already happened. I want to be with you as long as I live."
Lesley stared at him, her composure shaken, her breath catching in her throat. "I… I don't know what you want me to say."
"You don't have to say anything I intend to hear. Just remember, you are the one who taught me to listen with my heart, not just my ears."
"My heart aims to find delight in every word," she confessed softly, her defenses crumbling. "It is just that I'm not sure… this is so sudden."
He gently interrupted. "I've been attracted to women before. But a matter like this doesn't define a man until he finds the one unique woman he can adore for the rest of his life. That's you."
"Jeffery, you have someone else. What about Maris?"
The question hung between them,stark and necessary. told me every woman has her preferences," he told me without hesitation, his gaze steady. "It made me realize I was less than a perfect match for her. Because my heart was already looking elsewhere. It was looking for you."
"So what do you want from me?" Lesley asked, her voice warm but cautious, wanting to be sure of the shape of this new thing between them.
"What about a kind of music that brings no harm?No heartache? A duet."
"Your sincerity is evident,she teased, though her eyes were soft, yielding. "But it's challenging to trust a sudden emotional storm."
"Trust is never easy. But a man is free to propose his life to the woman he desires. The choice to accept is always hers. The decision is yours, Lesley. Will you give me the privilege of leading?"
"Leading requires strength," she pointed out, a final test. "And anyone can grow weak."
"As long as the follower doesn't cause a distraction,"he said, a slow, confident smile spreading, "leading can be the greatest pleasure. We'll draw strength from each other. We'll harmonize."
Lesley exhaled, a long, slow breath, the last of her resistance melting away, and finally smiled back at him, her eyes glowing with unchecked affection and promise.
On the football field, under the vast blue sky, Ryan and Jeffery collapsed onto the grass, panting, their shirts soaked with sweat.
"So," Ryan gasped, propping himself up on his elbows, "the date with Lesley. Give me the outcome. The verdict."
"You've decided it was a date?"Jeffery teased, catching his breath, a grin spreading across his face.
"A man and a woman meet by arrangement to get to know each other with clear romantic intention?What else would you call it? A business merger?"
"Fine.She's a truly delightful individual. She's… everything."
"I told you!"Ryan grinned, punching his friend's shoulder playfully. "It's wisdom, Jeffery. Knowing what saves your soul. Everything else can destroy it if you put it first."
"Since when did you become a preacher?"
"I've learned from watching you.I'm choosing to live simply. My wife is no longer a burden I bear. We are building a fine castle together, brick by brick, every weekend."
"It is good to hear that, my friend. Truly."
"So,"Ryan pressed, not letting it go, "when are you proposing?" Jeffery looked around at the empty field, then broke into a wide, unreserved smile. "What would such a deed offer you, my friend? A finder's fee?"
"It is November. I promised you would find a wife before the year end. I'm a man of my word. I'm serious."
"I want to have a party first."
"A party?What kind of party?"
"A small gathering.Family, a few close friends. This Sunday. At my place. Music starts at noon. You and Kate are the first on the list."
"Love is shaping your life, Jeffery. It looks good on you."
"It's good music,Ryan. It can shape all of us, if we let it."
Music filled Jeffery's apartment, warm and inviting, as guests mingled, their laughter blending with the soundtrack. The Westlife playlist was a deliberate, sweet thread running through the afternoon, a secret message in plain sight.
Mia and Jason arrived, and greetings flowed easily, though Mia's eyes were watchful, missing nothing. When Lesley entered, radiant in a simple dress, she and Mia shared a warm, lingering embrace.
"Honey, you remember Lesley," Mia said to Jason, her voice a little too bright.
"Of course,though not nearly well enough," Jason replied with a polite, appreciative smile. Mia watched them, a complex, knowing look in her eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension in her own marriage.
Jeffery swooped in, smoothly greeting Mia and Jason before gently taking Lesley's hand, a possessive, proud gesture. "There's someone you need to meet." He led her to where Ryan stood with his wife, Kate. "Kate, this is Lesley. Lesley, my best friend's wife, Kate. The one I've told you so much about."
"You have a name as beautiful as the woman who holds it," Kate said, her warmth immediate and genuine, pulling Lesley into a heartfelt hug.
As the opening, unmistakable notes of "Flying Without Wings" began to play, Jeffery excused himself. He moved to the center of the room, the natural focal point, and raised his glass. The chatter died down.
"Friends, family… thank you for coming." The room quieted, all eyes turning to him. "I've gathered you here today to share a particularly joyous moment. I know some of you will be… surprised." He glanced at Lesley, who looked as curious and captivated as everyone else. "The element of surprise inspired the music, so please, indulge in it."
Mia sidled up to Ryan, her voice a hushed whisper. "Do you know what he's planning?" she whispered. She then turned and hugged Kate, the two women exchanging pleasantries, but their attention remained fixed on Jeffery.
Jeffery cleared his throat, reclaiming everyone's attention. "I haven't finished." He took a deliberate sip of water. "Many of us have learned bitter lessons in love. But recently, I realized our heart's desire can come in the most unexpected ways. When you find someone who shares your song, who harmonizes with your soul, you get to enjoy a special, unbreakable bond." He turned up the music slightly.
"Everybody is looking for something,
One thing that makes it all complete…
You find it in the strangest places…"
He lowered the volume again, his voice intimate. "You all heard it. There is no island as enchanting as love, and you don't have to sail the world to find it. It starts in the heart. If your heart is broken, stop hurting yourself by denying love. The quality of a relationship depends on its foundation." He looked directly at Ryan, a world of gratitude in his gaze. "I have my compass now. The vessel is ready. And a dear friend promised I would reach my destination before the year's end."
Ryan, Mia, and Lesley laughed, sharing the private joke, a bubble of joy in the center of the room.
"I believe every woman has an idea of her ideal man," Jeffery continued, his voice softening as he walked slowly, purposefully, toward Lesley. "The hard part is mustering the courage to choose him when he finally stands in front of you."
He took her left hand in both of his and knelt on one knee. The room fell completely, breathlessly silent. A glass could be heard being set down on a table.
"My muse," he said, his voice clear and steady, filled with unwavering certainty. "If you could ever consider me the right man for you… the one you would hold dear until the twelfth of never… would you please do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?"
Lesley's hand trembled in his. Her other flew to her mouth. "I… I feel so naive. I don't know how to… This is…"
Twenty seconds of breathless, agonizing suspense filled the room. Everyone watched, frozen, caught in the spell of the moment.
Mia, seeing her friend's overwhelmed hesitation, glided over with a serene grace and leaned in, whispering words meant only for Lesley's ear: "My dear, sometimes we are barely mature enough to know the answer. But here is your ship. Get on board."
Lesley looked from Mia's encouraging, knowing face back to Jeffery's hopeful, earnest, loving eyes. A slow, radiant, tear-filled smile broke through her uncertainty, illuminating her entire being. She nodded, offering her hand fully to him, her heart in her eyes.
"Yes, Jeffery. I would love to marry you."
As he slipped the golden ring onto her finger, the room erupted in a wave of applause, cheers, and happy tears. Lesley flung her arms around Jeffery's neck, holding him tightly, as if she would never let go, her face buried in his shoulder. He lifted her, spinning her once in a pure, undefinable, triumphant joy.
After a long, perfect moment, Ryan approached, his own eyes shimmering, and tapped Jeffery on the shoulder. The two friends turned and embraced, a world of shared history, support, and unspoken words passing between them in that fierce, manly hug.
"A beautiful married life," Ryan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wish you a beautiful life, my brother."