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“When?”
“Right before I fell asleep.”
His arm around my waist stays where it is, but I feel him take a slow breath.
“You were asleep.”
“I was almost asleep,” I say quietly. “You said you want to marry me.”
He goes very still for another beat, then he slides out from behind me.
“Where are you going?”
“Give me one minute.”
“Fox—”
“One minute. I promise.”
He crosses to the bedroom door barefoot and disappears down the hall. I hear him rummaging around in the living room.
He comes into the bedroom with one hand behind his back and his cheeks slightly pink.
He climbs back into bed and settles behind me again. His chin comes back to my shoulder.
“Put your hand up.”
I turn my face to look at him as he puts something small in my hand.
It’s a box. A small, square velvet box. Deep navy blue.
My hand starts to shake.
“Fox, what is this?”
“Don’t panic.”
“I’m panicking.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, it is kind of what you’re thinking.”
My hands are visibly shaking now. He puts his arms around me from behind and holds me steady.
“It’s a promise. A promise to you that I’m not going anywhere. That whatever comes next, we decide it together. That I’m choosing you every single day. And that when you’re ready, when we’re ready, if you want to call it a wedding ring instead of a promise ring, I will be the happiest man alive.”
His mouth is against my temple.
“Fox, when did you get this?”
“In Manhattan. One night I ended up in front of a jewelry store on some corner. It was closed, but the display was lit up, and this one caught my eye and wouldn’t let me go. I stood in front of that window for I don’t know how long. That was when I realized for the first time that I could marry you.”
Words are stuck in my throat, so I open the box.
The ring inside is exactly what I would have chosen if I had been the one standing in front of that window.
