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He presses his lips to mine. “I do.”
“An-and you said you’d buy me a lifetime supply of Post-Its.” I make a swipe for his arm but he twists away from me. “Is that what’s hiding behind your back?”
“I also told you to say the word, and I’d marry you tomorrow.” He reveals what he’s hiding. A velvet box. Tiffany blue. Holy shit. Tiffany & Co? Seriously?
“Walt…”
He cracks the lid on the box, revealing a teardrop-shaped diamond in a platinum setting, smaller stones winking on either side of it.
“Why do you have this?” I ask, unable to believe my eyes.
“Because. When you say you’re going to marry someone, you plan ahead.”
“That was forever ago.”
“Yeah.” He plucks the ring from its satin nest. “But I meant it.”
My nose tingles. My eyes burn. I lose the battle I fought for no more tears as a few spill over. “Shit.”
His laugh permeates the room, my heart, my soul. He swipes my cheeks, my engagement ring on the top knuckle of one of his index fingers. “Oddly enough, I expected you to say that.”
