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Hudson
A few more weeks pass, and I grow antsy, wanting to out us. We’ve almost gotten caught by everyone we know, including Palmer’s mom. At first it was fun, sneaking kisses and finding secret places to fuck. Hell, Adley woke up one night to find me between her mom’s legs. We made up an excuse that I was helping Palmer find something she’d dropped.
We’re probably scarring Adley for life.
Most of all, I want to sleep—not have sex, sleep—in a bed with Palmer. I want to see her right before I shut my eyes, hold her tightly all night, and kiss her awake in the morning. I want us to start our life together.
Palmer isn’t great at telling people what she wants, so the manuscript I read with a story so similar to ours keeps repeating in my head. Maybe she does want it all, but she’s scared to admit it to herself.
Which is why I’m standing in a jewelry store in Anchorage with Harper next to me.
“Have you guys talked about this?” Harper asks, putting a ring the saleswoman is showing me on her hand and admiring it.
“No, but it’s the next step. What do you think of that one?”
She takes it off. “Are you sure she wants this? I mean, Palmer has always had different thoughts about marriage than most women.” She picks up a princess-cut diamond ring. At this point, I think she just wants to try on every damn ring in the store.
My gut says this is where we should be going. Harper isn’t wrong—neither Palmer nor I have ever felt as though we needed a marriage license with whoever we ended up with. We both feel it doesn’t change anything, doesn’t bind two people together any more than they already are. But I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never wanted someone to have my last name. To have a corny sign on our door with a last name we all share.
“I guess I’ll find out when I ask her. You’re still good to watch Adley this weekend?”
She eyes me, and I see the skepticism all over her face. “Of course. I bought a neon pink nail polish she’ll love.”
“Thanks. And you can keep her at your place?”
“Sure. Do you want any help with the plans?”
“No. I’ve got it covered.” That’s an easy one, because Palmer isn’t one for flashy public displays.
“Can I see that round one with the small diamonds on the side?” She points at the ring in question in the glass case.
“Are you looking for yourself or Palmer?” I ask what I’ve been wondering for the last hour.
“Palmer, of course,” she says, but I don’t believe her, and I don’t think the saleswoman does either. “I wonder what it must be like to wear this kind of symbol on your hand so that the whole world knows that someone loves you enough to spend a small fortune on you. Like he wants to show the world that you belong to him.”
The words ring true, and I realize that’s another reason I’m standing here—I want everyone to know Palmer is mine and how much I love her. Who would’ve guessed that Harper knew my reason for being here better than I did?
“A hopeless romantic, huh?” the saleswoman asks her.
I’ve never thought of Harper as a hopeless romantic. I always assumed she didn’t want to settle down because of what an active sex life she has. I thought she loves her life, not being attached to any one guy. But what if all this time she’s just been searching for the right guy?
“Nice guys are hard to come by,” she tells the lady. “Last one. The pear shape please.”
The saleswoman pulls out the pear-shaped diamond ring on a platinum band, and Harper and I turn to each other.
“That’s the one,” we say in unison.
I take it from the velvet mat and examine the unique way the band is thicker, the two diamonds on the side bigger than normal. It fits Palmer perfectly. “Package it up please.”
“Did you want to try it on for him?” the saleswoman asks Harper.
“No!” we say at the same time.
“That’s only meant for one person to wear.” Harper looks at me.
I completely agree. It’s Palmer’s ring, and it will never be on any finger but hers.
The saleswomen goes to polish and clean it and package it up.
