Page 64 of Unfinished Noise

He was ready.

He was buying the rings.

And tonight, he was asking Jamie.

The shopping district buzzed—cars rolling past in uneven bursts, people weaving between storefronts, the smell of pretzels drifting from a kiosk near the corner. Spencer usually walked through places like this without noticing much. Today, everything landed sharper.

The rumble of engines felt like a low drum in his chest. The pretzel stand’s sweet salt smell hit him harder than it should have, warm and nostalgic, like something from a childhood he barely remembered. Even the sunlight bouncing off the shop windows looked brighter, almost too bright, catching on metal trim and glass edges like tiny sparks.

It wasn’t “heightened reality.” It was him—wired, keyed up, every sense tuned to the fact he was about to buy a ring for Jamie. About to change both their lives.

He caught himself staring at a couple walking out of a bakery, laughing over something small. The kind of peaceful moment he wanted with Jamie for the rest of their lives. The thought tightened something in his chest, not painful—but real. Every detail around him felt as if it were nudging him forward. All of it folding into one clear truth: he was ready. And he hoped Jamie was too.

“Everything good?” Nathan asked.

He didn’t bother explaining the knot of nerves and excitement twisting in his stomach. The photo Jamie had sent that morning—three silver hoops in each ear, matching Alfie, grin bright enough to warm the whole screen—had hit him hard at first. Not like a punch this time, but like a pull.

Now, about to choose the rings, it meant something else entirely.

Jamie wasn’t trying out a new look. He was growing, shifting, becoming more himself every day, and Spencer wanted to be part of all of it. The earrings weren’t only cute and chaotic, but “Jamie being Jamie.” They were a glimpse of the future Spencer suddenly saw with startling clarity: Jamie beside him, bold and bright, choosing things that made him happy, choosing him, choosing a life they could build together.

That realization settled deeper than the first reaction ever had. It wasn’t just affection anymore. It was a partnership. It was a possibility. It was the quiet, steady truth that Spencer didn’t want to imagine a future without Jamie in it.

They walked into the jeweler’s, a small place with warm lighting and glass cases that made everything inside look expensive. A bell chimed as the door closed behind them. Spencer’s pulse jumped.

He wasn’t usually sentimental about objects; most things blurred together. But rings—rings were different. Thinking about them made his breath slow, almost deepen, as if his body were trying to make room for the weight of what they represented. One small band could hold years of choosing someone, even on the days when choosing wasn’t easy. It meant showing up when Jamie was loud or tired or spiraling and letting Jamie show up for him in all the same ways. It meant building a life that wasn’t neat or quiet but real, messy, and theirs.

The thought didn’t make his chest tighten this time. It settled him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

He ran his thumb over the edge of the display case, imagining Jamie’s hand wearing a ring he’d chosen. The thought steadied him. This wasn’t about romance or ceremony. It was about permanence. About saying, I’m here. I’m staying. I’m choosing you, even when everything around us is messy and unpredictable.

For the first time, the idea didn’t scare him. It felt right.

A clerk approached with a practiced smile. “Looking for anything special today?”

He swallowed, a sudden, almost painful dryness gripping his mouth. “Matching rings,” he said. “For a wedding.”

Nathan snorted softly beside him, but Spencer ignored it.

The clerk’s smile widened. “Congratulations. Let’s take a look.”

They were led to a case filled with simple bands—gold, silver, platinum, some with subtle engraving, some smooth and clean. Spencer leaned over the glass, hands braced on the edge, scanning each one as if he was trying to read a language he didn’t speak.

He wanted something that captured Jamie. Not flashy. Not stiff. Something warm. Something steady.

His eyes landed on a pair of slim platinum bands with a brushed finish—a soft sheen. Understated. Honest. The kind of ring you wore every day without thinking about it, but noticed every time you looked at your hand. A bright turquoise inlay ran around the middle of each ring, vivid and almost electric.

“That one,” Spencer said.

Nathan leaned in. “Nice. Alfie would like something like that too.”

Spencer shot him a sideways glance. “Get your own.”

Nathan smirked. “I will.”

The clerk pulled the rings out and set them on a velvet pad. Spencer picked one up, feeling the weight of it—light but solid. His chest tightened. He pictured Jamie wearing it. He pictured it sliding onto Jamie’s finger. He pictured Jamie’s face, that soft, surprised look he got when he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Spencer’s throat went warm.