I meet his friends and he meets mine. It doesn't go well. My friends don't take to him. They think he's pompous, even though he's unfailingly polite. But honestly, they didn't like him before they even met him. Once they found out he was a billionaire, the jokes and snide comments started flying. It hurts my feelings and I'm disappointed. My friends aren't who I thought they were.
On the flip side, I don't like his friends even a little bit. Ryan, yes—all day long. He’s a real friend to Asher and he’s also polite, funny, down-to-earth, and personable. The full package. Conversely, Asher's other friends are borderline rude, and they're snobs to boot. There's this vibe, like they think I'm after his money, when nothing could be further from the truth.
I mean, I didn't even know he was a literal billionaire—that Ancre is his family company—until weeks into our relationship. But for his friends, perception is more powerful than reality.
I see no hesitation from Asher, but his friends acting the way they do has to bother him. I wonder if, in the long run, the things they say to him when I’m not around will wind up being a dealbreaker for our relationship.
Tonight, he’s taken me to a rooftop bar on Lake Union. It's raining. He's reserved the one table under the awning, and it’s actually really lovely. There’s something romantic about rain. After the meal, when I’m stuffed and ready to be rolled out tothe car, Asher pushes back from his chair and stands without warning. I look up, confused, and watch as he drops to one knee.
Oh. My. God.
My brain starts to malfunction when he pulls a ring box out of his left pocket. Holy shit. Holy shit. This is happening. Am I ready for this? Is this real? Maybe it’s a pair of earrings. Oh my God. What if it is a ring? What should I say? Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit. Oh shit. Am I forgetting how to breathe?
Everything snaps back into focus when he opens the box and I see that there is, in fact, a ring inside. Not just a ring.
A RING.
Somewhere, the rock of Gibraltar would like a word about size. The thing he’s holding out is enormous. Emerald cut, two trapezoid side stones, a diamond the rough size of a grape. A big fucking grape at that.
It’s… Fucking terrible.
I mean it is actually hideous. It is the literal opposite of everything I have ever imagined. I would’ve chosen something I could wear without people stopping to stare. This ring is not that. It’s a fucking mammoth rock that announces itself. It belongs on someone else’s hand, someone who grew up wanting exactly this.
Not me. I am not that person. I’ve fallen for him. But the ring… It’s a horror. It’s not insta-love. It’s insta-hell-fucking-no.
I look from the box up to Asher, and freeze when I see his expression. He looks terrified that I'm going to say no. I hate that he’s afraid. He’s such a good boyfriend. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found a man who wants to spend time with me. Who loves to laugh and hold me and talk about random things. Who’s always up for whatever I want to do, even if that means smelling every flower at the Seattle Growers Market, all in the name of product research. He’s supportive in that way, and it means everything.
So I blurt out the word yes between one instant and the next. I don't even think about it. The word is just out there before I've processed anything. He sags in relief before he slides the ring onto my finger.
The band is cold and heavier than it has any right to be. It's uncomfortable from the first second. I hate it immediately and completely.
But then Asher stands and pulls me into his arms. He’s laughing as he spins me around, and kissing me and saying thank you, thank you, over and over.
And it's hard to stay inside my own head when he's like this. His happiness is the kind that changes things. I love this man. I said yes. I’m engaged.
And a ring is just a ring. I'll get used to it.
CHAPTER
SIX
JULIE
I thought havingto wear the ring would be the most stressful thing about being engaged. I was wrong. I was wrong. The biggest stress is, without a doubt, that I have to meet Asher’s dad tomorrow for the first time. I can tell Asher is worried. And his worry is adding to mine.
So now I'm spiraling because I’ve been watching him stress for days, and tonight at dinner he had more to drink than usual. He didn’t get sloppy or anything, but it was enough that I noticed. He's half asleep when I slide into bed beside him. His arm automatically reaches for me, pulling me close. I let myself settle into him for a moment, listening as his breathing starts to slow.
"Asher," I say quietly.
"Hmm?"
"You’re so stressed out it’s scaring me. Is there anything I should know before tomorrow? Anything I should worry about when I meet your dad?"
He's quiet for so long I think he's fallen asleep. Then he says, "He's going to judge you."
"Okay. That's... not great."
"He judges everyone." Asher's words are slower now, looser as sleep pulls at him. "That's just who he is. A fucking asshole."
