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"You think you know me well?" She arches an eyebrow, mirroring my earlier gesture.
I smirk as I cut into my omelet and continue eating.
"Well?" She prods, "Do you think you know me well?"
"I think…" I pause as I survey her features, "I know you well enough, to allow you access to your phone again."
She huffs, "That doesn’t mean anything. You allowed me access to my phone earlier, as well.”
“Until you insisted on showing me that you couldn’t be trusted," I glower.
"So, you trust me now?"
"Nope."
She gapes, "So you don’t trust me now?"
"Not an inch, my darling Beauty." I place my knife and fork on the plate, before I push my chair back, "However, I do trust you enough to give you…" I slide my palm inside my pocket, pull out her ring.
"Oh," her chest heaves.
I go down on one knee in front of her—only because it’s the only way to reach for her fingers as I slide the ring onto her left ring finger.
She draws in a breath. "I really don’t understand you," she murmurs as she raises the fingers of her left hand.
"What do you not understand?" I push back a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"You say you don’t trust me, yet you give me back my ring… I mean, your ring." She glances up at me, "Why would you do that?"
"Because you are my wife?" I cup her cheek, "And the mother-to-be of my child."
"This child means a lot to you, doesn’t it?"
I tilt my head, "As do you."
"Do I?"
"Do you doubt my word?"
"You just said that you don’t trust me…so…"
"I don’t have to trust you to—"love you. Shit, did I almost say that aloud? I rise to my feet, and she grabs my hand.
"To—?" She tips up her chin, "What were you going to say?"
"To acknowledge you as my wife," I reply and her features fall.
"Oh, right."
I pull my hand away from her grasp, then nod to her plate, "You didn’t finish your breakfast."
"I…I’m not hungry anymore."
"Have you told your sister yet that you are pregnant?"
She whips her head around to stare at me, "You’d be okay with that?"
"Of course."
