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She rolls her lips together.
Glancing up at Mr. Vance, I give him a knowing look. One I’m sure he can interpret somehow since he sells jewelry for a living and has a houseful of women.
“Mr. Vance, I think we need some more…organic looking options. Does that make sense? Something earthy and unique? One of a kind.”
He grins. “Of course, I know just the collection for you. I’ll be right back.”
When the door snicks shut behind him, Amber laughs. “How do you read my mind like that?”
“Ambs, I’ve been watching you for twenty-six years.” The words are out of my mouth before I can change them and make them sound less intense. So I follow it up with, “I mean, we’ve been friends for a long time. I know your tells.”
She purses her lips, absently running one hand over her daughter’s head. “I always hated the ring Theo gave me. It was ostentatious yet plain at the same time. Just one big diamond with a simple band. I should’ve known right then he didn’t know me at all, but I ignored it, like all the other signs.” She sighs. “So, I have to know. If you picked out a ring for me by yourself, what would it look like?”
I grit my teeth, shoving down a snide comment about Theo. How he was always trying to change her when she’s perfect just the way she is. I school my features into a soft smile, changing my focus back to rings and what I’d get for her, if I was surprising her with a ring, I chose myself. “The band would curve around your finger, like a vine. It wouldn’t be a straight band. And the vine would be encrusted with tiny diamonds, just enough to twinkle when the light hits. A diamond would sit on top of the band, and it would be a unique shape, maybe an oval?” Biting my bottom lip, I try to picture what I’m describing, and liking what I’m seeing. “Yeah, an oval. And it would be a pink diamond. Not bright pink, but a very pale pink. The ring would be delicate, and when it was on your small finger, it would almost look like the tiniest garden.”
I nod my head, satisfied with the ring my brain came up with. Noticing Amber is deathly quiet, I glance at her and find her staring at me with wide eyes.
“What?” I ask. “Am I way off?” I can’t tell if she’s horrified by my description of the ring, or something else.
“Ford,” she says slowly. “Do you have Pinterest?”
I quirk my head to the side, unable to tell if that’s a serious question. “Um, no.”
“You’ve never been on Pinterest? Do you swear it on your life?”
“I swear it.”
Her voice lowers to a whisper, “I have a ring pinned to my wedding board that matches that exact description. It’s the only ring I’ve ever pinned.” She pulls her pink backpack off her back and removes her phone from a pocket, then starts frantically flipping and scrolling until she finds what she’s looking for. She turns the screen so I can see.
My jaw drops when I take in a photo that’s almost exactly what I just described. Except in the photo the vines have tiny green stones to look like real leaves. It’s feminine, and ethereal, and perfect for Amber. “Ambs, we have to get you this ring.”
“No,” she argues. “I can’t have my dream ring just to take it off in two years and never get to wear it again. It’s too heartbreaking.”
My stomach is in my throat. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? Of course she doesn’t want to waste any of her dreams on this fake marriage. She’ll get all of that with her real love someday. And it won’t be me. I feel my shoulders sagging and have to make an effort to straighten my spine and square my shoulders again. “Right. Well, maybe we can find something sort of similar?”
Mr. Vance opens the door, entering with a cart loaded up with dark blue velvet boxes. “Okay, we have options now.” He grins.
When we leave the jewelry store, we’re both wearing official wedding rings. Mine is a simple platinum band—I’ll have to take it off for games anyway. But Amber’s is a delicate vintage style with a large emerald-cut diamond. Still unique, but totally different from her dream ring. Something about that niggles, and I can’t quite decide why it annoys me so much. Maybe the fact that she’s already thinking about the future with another man?
I take a step toward the parking lot where Amber’s shiny new pickup sits, but she stops me with a hand on my arm. “Actually, while we’re over here, do you mind stopping in that cute salon with me? I wanted to see if they have any booths available to rent.”
She starts walking that direction without waiting for me to respond. I quickly step in front of her, settling my hands on my waist. “You’re about to have surgery.”
She rolls her eyes and pushes past me. “I’m thinking about after the procedure, duh! I have to go back to work eventually, or I’ll go crazy and start painting every surface of your house. I have to have a creative outlet, Ford.”
I catch up to her, and she keeps talking. “And Luxurious Lather is so cute. I just want to check it out.”
With a sigh, I walk beside her and open the salon door once we’re in front of it. The bell above the door jingles, and my hair guy, Peter, grins when he sees me walking in.
“Ford!” he exclaims, moving toward us. He’s dressed in stylish houndstooth trousers and a white button-down shirt. They obviously have a black and white dress code because all the stylists are wearing only those two colors. “How’s my favorite client? How I’ve missed that gorgeous hair of yours.”
“Peter.” I nod my head in greeting. “I could use a trim, actually. You have time?”
He beams, his blue eyes twinkling. “I do. My last haircut was a no-show.” His head swivels in Amber’s direction and he smiles again. “And who’s your guest?”
“This is Amber,” I clear my throat. “My wife.”
I watch Amber’s face as I say the words and my heartbeat speeds up when her face turns bright red. I tell my heart to calm down—she’s probably just embarrassed to claim me as her husband.
