Teddy sat on the bench and sobbed. Around him, gathering clouds had driven most other people out of the park. But Teddy didn’t care. Pasua’s rejection had ruined the romantic view long before the clouds came. Now, the darkening sky matched Teddy’s mood.
Against his will, Teddy’s eyes found the gray, felt box where it lay discarded on the bench. He thought of Pasua, and the sobs increased. If only there had been something to dissuade him!
Embracing the role of scorned lover, Teddy racked his brain, trying to summon anger or hatred for Pasua. But he couldn’t even dislike her flaws. Certainly, her ears ranged on the large size. Yet she could always make him laugh with her flapping-away-flies trick. Her front teeth jutted forward, more than a little pronounced. His were crooked – dental perfection seemed overrated. Ah, and Pasua had the full figure and big eyes he’d always craved. He loved the look and feel of her gray skin, the shy way she pulled her trunk close when complimented. And that memory! No need for a camera, when Pasua could recite special moments back to him.
Her memory. Maybe that was it. Maybe Pasua could recall every clumsy remark, each slight and stupid argument. Had eighteen months of mistakes slowly built up into a wall between them?
No, when pressed, Teddy could not think of what might’ve gone wrong. He’d picked a romantic spot he knew she liked. He’d schemed to get a ring to fit her large, blocky digit. And he’d practiced the words until his mirror had swooned. Teddy sobbed. It was like his mother had warned him, elephants never commit.