I opened the box.
The ring was simple.
A brushed platinum band with a narrow line of dark blue enamel through the center. Inside, engraved in small letters, were three words.
COME HOME SAFE.
My vision blurred.
Reid’s breathing changed.
“You chose that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three weeks before the accident.”
“Why blue?”
“Harbor at dusk.”
I turned the band beneath the lamp.
“And the words?”
“Because every time you left on a service call, I wanted to say more than be careful.”
I closed my fingers around the box.
“You were going to ask me.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I had a plan.”
“Bad?”
“Complicated.”
“What was it?”
“Mercy. Bellweather Point. Dinner in a basket. Sunset.”
“That is alarmingly romantic.”
“I panicked.”
“You bought a ring and panicked?”
“I rewrote the speech every night.”
I smiled through tears.
“What did the final version say?”
