His head lifted.
“You said no?”
“I asked badly.”
“How badly?”
“We were replacing the galley pump on a forty-foot cruiser. You were inside a cabinet with your legs sticking out. I said we should get married for tax purposes.”
Noah stared at me.
“I said no.”
“You told me to try again when I could make it sound less like asset management.”
“That is reasonable.”
“It was.”
“Did you try again?”
“I bought a ring.”
His fingers tightened around the frame.
“Where is it?”
“In the office safe.”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
“I was waiting for our anniversary.”
“When?”
“Six weeks from now.”
The room fell silent.
Noah looked at the photograph, then at me.
“The accident happened before you asked.”
“Yes.”
“Do I know about the ring?”
“You do now.”
His face closed.
“I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No.”
“You asked.”
“I’m glad you told me.”
