The serenade

Before the avowal.
Before we went up to the room.
Still sitting across from each other at dinner.
He sang to me.

This.



I was used to his telling me that he loved me with offerings of songs. Songs about which he no longer offered unconvincing disclaimers. Now don't go reading anything into the lyrics, he'd say.

Disclaimers which I never once believed.
And which he didn't offer this time.

I admit to a tear or two as he sang this song- which I'd never heard before. But I never expected the confession that came later.

Not complaining, though.

Those three words?

He said them.