“A cushion cut, two-point-five carat diamond on a diamond encrusted gold band. In total, the ring comes to two and a half carats.”
Something about it has me mesmerized. “What kind of band would go with it?”
Why the hell am I asking? I’m not looking to buy a ring.
“You have quite a few options, but from what you’ve described, I think this one,” she says and pulls out a band that looks almost identical to the engagement ring, “would fit her perfectly.”
“How much for both of them?”
Why are you even asking, Rhett? To come back years later to see if it’s still here rather than on Brynlee’s finger?
“Fifteen thousand, six hundred before tax.”
I have no control over myself right now. And just like the spell I must be under, I pull my wallet from my pocket and hand her my credit card. It’s a good chunk of the down payment money I saved up for the Carmichael house. “Here.”
“My name is Beth, by the way. I’ll just need to get some more information from you to put into the system, and then we can get you out of here.”
It doesn’t take as long as I expect to have me rung up, the ring boxed up and in a bag. All said and done, I just dropped seventeen grand for a ring set I don’t know I’ll ever have an opportunity to give Brynlee. But it’s tailormade for her. It looks like something that she’d pick out herself.
“Do you know her size?” Beth asks.
“Her what?”
“Ring size. This is a six.”
Shaking my head, I try to think about her hands. Of course, the only images I muster up have them wrapped around my cock, which I can’t really use as a form of measurement here. “I don’t.”
“Not a problem. If it’s not the right size, we can have it resized, no problem. I bet she’ll love it. Merry Christmas!”
“Thanks,” I say, still stunned and unsure why I’m walking out of this store I’ve never noticed before with a ring I didn’t plan to buy today.
I walk past the food court where I planned to grab something to eat until I dropped a small fortune, deciding to head to my pickup instead.
“Why don’t I feel anxious about this?”
Leaning back in my seat with the engine off, I try to understand how I feel. Whenever I purchase something over five hundred dollars, I get an anxious, sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. Almost like immediate buyer’s remorse, even if it’s something I love or saved for. Like my pickup. My house. A dog, Bo, I had about ten years ago before he died of cancer. All of them I loved, but I had that sinking feeling of dread at the commitment of the purchase. So why don’t I feel that now?
Because Brynlee’s the one I’m supposed to be with. Before I drove her away in tears, literally.
Grabbing my phone, I call her again, this time deciding to leave a message.
“Brynlee, it’s me. I’m sure you’ve seen all the calls I’ve made, and I feel like a stalker. But I need to talk to you and hear your voice. I made the biggest mistake of my life, and it was because of a stupid misunderstandin’. I was scared bein’ with me was just an experiment for you before I saw that weddin’ countdown, and it’s all because I thought maybe you were never meant to be mine. I let my jealousy get the better of me, and I can’t even look at myself after the things I said to you… How I treated you…That’s not me. That’s not who I am, and I can’t handle the last time I saw you bein’ the last time I ever see you.”
Taking a breath, I close my eyes. This is harder than I thought it would be.
“I’m beggin’ you to come home. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you how sorry I am. Lookin’ back, I see all the signs I didn’t before. I need the chance to tell you a few things. I’d like a chance to show you that the guy who turned into a crazy person was just temporary insanity. The man who stopped and helped pull your car from the ditch is the guy I am. There’s somethin’ I really need to tell you, but I don’t want to say it on your voicemail. I need you to come home. Please, baby, come home. Or call me back. At the very least… I need to know you’re safe.”
I hang up and fight back the tears. There are very few times in my life that I’ve cried. Bo’s death. Grandparents dying. Mom’s breast cancer scare.
“Hey!”
A fist hits the driver’s side window, and I jump, ready to fight. “Uncle Barry?”
“I thought that was you. Did I scare you?” he asks and laughs as I open the door and step out to hug him.
“Yeah, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doin’ here?”
“Same as you, I’d assume. Comin’ or goin’?”
