Page 29 of Put a Rink on It

Not that players need to know the specifics. Some men will fight opponents for the thrill. I’ll join in as the need warrants, but I haven’t found the need to initiate one.

“Grown men with hockey sticks and skates on their feet fighting like toddlers losing out on their favorite toy.” Her huge smile contradicts her words.

The driver pulls up to the curb in front of the jewelry store, letting the car idle as he comes around to open the back passenger door.

“If you can’t stay parked here, I’ll message you when we need a ride.”

“Fine, sir. Enjoy.”

The door to the store opens, a woman in a black pencil skirt and white top greeting us with a smile. “Mr. Champion, welcome. And you must be Marina.” She beams Marina’s way. “I’m Amina, and I’ll be helping you out today.”

“Thank you.” I encourage Marina through the glass door, and we stop inside the entrance.

A wide aisle splits the store in half, and glass cases surround us on all sides. Various pieces of jewelry nestle in the cases, elevated to show their splendor. The way the gems and diamonds sparkle is nearly blinding.

“If you’ll follow me, I have a room all set up.”

With my hand on Marina’s back, I guide her in front of me, following Amina to a small room in the back of the store. A round table with a variety of rings rests in the center, three chairs surrounding it. We shrug out of our coats and remove our hats, and I pull out a chair for Marina and take the seat next to her while Amina sits across from us.

“I pulled a few rings for you to look at based on information Mr. Champion shared about your likes, but I’d like to get your ideas on what you’re looking for.”

Not enjoying being put on the spot, Marina stills beside me, red blossoming on her cheeks. “Oh, uh, um. I think I like round or princess cut with the prongs. A solitaire or with little diamonds on the side.”

“How big were you thinking?” Amina prods.

“At least two carats,” I supply, that one specific detail etched into my brain from when she described our “engagement” day.

“Nero,” Marina hisses. “That’s too big. I don’t need it to be show-offy. Something simple, elegant, beautiful. Size doesn’t matter if it’s coming from you.”

I forget for a moment it’s not real because her words are spoken so honestly, so heartfelt, and it’s easy to suspend reality that this is all for show.

Amina puts her hand over her heart. “That’s so sweet. You wouldn’t believe the number of women who forget it’s a gift of love and want something they can show off to their friends.”

Instinctively, my arm wraps around Marina’s shoulder, and I tuck her against me. “Not my girl.”

My girl.

I never thought I’d get to use that phrase about Marina, but damn if it’s not perfectly suiting.

“Aww, I love it.” Amina claps her hands. “Let me show you rings.”

For the next thirty minutes, she shows Marina a handful of choices. She describes each ring in great detail, all of which means little to me. Nothing lights Marina up, and until she radiates as bright as the sun, it’s not the ring for her.

“Any of them stick out for you?” Amina asks when she’s shown her all of them.

Marina points to one. “I kinda like this one.”

“No,” I say immediately, met with two questioning stares. “Not you ‘kinda’ like it. You have to love it, Ships. You have to be in love with it to wear it every day for the rest of your life.” The statement tumbles from my mouth without me thinking about it. While Marina knows the truth, I’m certainly not going to let the jewelry store employee think there’s anything off about our relationship. “If you have any others somewhere in the store you think she’ll love, we’ll see them. Otherwise, we’ll be on our way.”

“We do custom designs,” Amina rushes out. “You sketch it out on the computer, and our artists bring it to life.”

“How long does it take to receive the ring?”

Amina pulls out her tablet and swipes through a few screens. “It looks like we’re scheduling out six to eight weeks.”

“Nope, thanks.” I stand up, encouraging Marina to follow suit, putting my coat and hat back on while Marina slowly does the same. A part of her doesn’t want to disappoint the saleswoman, but she follows my lead. “Thank you for your help today.” I entwine our fingers together and prepare to walk out of the store. I appreciate the fact Amina doesn’t follow us out.

When we’re outside, Marina stops our trek, motioning me out of the way of passersby on the sidewalk. She definitely has things on her mind, but she’s holding back. I wish I could read her thoughts, but since I can’t, I ask, “What are you thinking?”