We Met At Baker Street Station

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Dear Jasmine,

It's been three years since the day I met you. I remember the day exactly. It was the 2nd of November 2016. I know this because there was torrential rain outside of Baker Street Station and instead of standing under a shop tarp like everyone else, you decided to make a run for it. You saw your bus coming and thought you could reach it. Thank God the bus driver was in a foul mood and drove off. If he hadn't, I wouldn't have had the chance to look at you properly.

Whilst you stood, panicked in the rain, I couldn't help but feel sorry for you. Your clothes were getting soaked and everyone else seemed to be ignoring you. You know how Londoners can get. I'm not really sure what came over me, but I lifted my umbrella over your head and remember smiling at you as I tried to not look like a creep. I guess it worked because you smiled back and shuffled a bit closer. I didn't get your name, but you did say thank you. As we made small talk, I remember watching that one droplet of rain roll down your face. I admired the way your wet hair stuck to your face and how cute you looked as you scrunched your arms up by your side. I guess you were worried that you were taking up too much space and so you wanted to make yourself as small as possible so we had enough room. I told you that you could relax, I was fine and not getting wet. That was a lie, the entire left side of me was getting soaked. My left sock got wet. But I didn't mind. Your giggle, your awkward smile with your upturned eyebrows made it worth it. You relaxed a bit.

We asked one another a bit about where we were going just to fill up the time. I wanted to seem interesting and said I was going to an art gallery rather than work. Somehow I thought you'd fall in love with me on the spot if I said that, I'm not too sure why. I then asked you and you said you had an interview. Before I had a chance to ask for what, your bus came and you had to go.

I spent the rest of the day thinking about you. I'm not sure what it was about you, but you just seemed like something I needed.

That same night, I took the train back home and as I sat down in the carriage, I saw you again. You ran through the closing doors; your backpack got trapped in the middle, causing the doors to open all over again. It was rush hour and so plenty of groans followed. You looked flustered and embarrassed. Everyone was staring at you; however, I managed to catch your eye and stood up, signalling for you to take my seat. I don't think I'd ever seen someone run to a seat so fast before.

As if the stars planned it, I ended up running into you every morning and every evening at Baker Street. You eventually recognised who I was and reached into your bag on the third day of run ins to give me a pack of powdered donuts. You said they were a thank you for the umbrella I shared with you, before also telling me that you had gotten the job. I shared my donuts with you as a congratulations. I guess you could say that was our first unofficial date.

On the fifth day, it took some courage and a good pep talk in my head, but I finally asked for your number.

On the sixth day, we went out after you finished work to watch a film.

And on the seventh day, I kissed you goodnight after I walked you back home.

Those days turned into weeks, which then turned into months, which have now become three years. I have a pretty good relationship with your family now, although at first they seemed shocked that you brought someone like me home. If I remember correctly, your grandmother coughed. For literally no reason. She just burst into a coughing fit.

I remember the day you turned to me and said that you thought that we had been together long enough and that you believed we were ready to take the next step. When you told me, in all honesty, I was shocked at first. I hadn't imagined a future like that before. I didn't even think it was possible. But you told me it was.

It took some time but we did it. And as our daughter stands next to me, I can't help but smile. I just realised that I'm writing this letter on the one year anniversary of her adoption. The one you told me was possible. You're the reason I now have a family.

And so, now it's my turn to ask that we take the next step. I want to ask you something that I've thought about since the first day I met you. But, if you say no, I'll be okay. I'll still be there, waiting outside of Baker Street station with an umbrella. Just in case. For you.

Jasmine, I ask this with tears in my eyes and a full heart inside of me.

Will you marry me?

I love you,

Rose.

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