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“With diamonds? I can’t accept this.” I close the box and hold it out for him to take.
Both his hands remain in his pockets, and he rocks gently back on his heels. Ethan shakes his head. “It’s yours. Take it and leave it in the box. Think about it. You don’t have to wear it. It’s just a gesture of our friendship to show how much you mean to me. If you feel the time is right, then wear it. Then I’ll know and might get the guts to ask you out on a date.”
I gawk at him.
He’s afraid to ask me out.
Since when?
“Happy birthday, Eden.” He kisses my cheek and scoops up his suit jacket with his fingers, holds it over his shoulder for it to drape down his back.
He gives me a nod before stepping outside.
The door clangs shut with a gust of wind.
I flop back in my chair and flip open the box.
Do I say no because I’m still praying for Samuel to come to me?
No. I promised myself I’d stop.
I pick up the ring, turn it side to side. The diamonds sparkle under the light.
How does something so tiny cause my chest to tighten like I’m wearing a corset?
45
EDEN
It is not a commitment.
The following morning I’m holding the ring between my fingers, afraid to slide it on in fear, likeFrodo,I’ll disappear. Not my physical self but the person I’ve become—the person I’m finally content to be because of Samuel. I’ll never forget him, but I can’t hold out for a man who wants to live in another world. One that doesn’t include me.
“It’s not a commitment,” I murmur for the tenth time.
A symbol of friendship, but the moment I slide the diamonds on my finger, it’s a green light for Ethan to ask me on a date.
Is it what I want?
No.
But I’m refusing to dwell any longer.
For months, I have waited and waited and hoped and prayed Samuel would come out of this alive and then be so overjoyed he’d head straight back to LA and sort out his visas to come to me.
What fairy tale am I living in?
There are many scenarios, and as much as I want to think of him alive, my hope is fading every day. In one of the last honest conversations we shared, he told me he didn’t want to return to society. He’s miserable living a privileged life, and by my own foolishness, I believed that would change, and he’d be happy if Rose and I were with him.
Every day my vision clears and shows me Rose and I aren’t enough. He loves us, but to do so,heforfeits happiness. Then there’s that loyalty to the Ularans he can’t let go of. Only now do I realize giving up all that he worked for, all that he believed in, could break him and send him into a depression like he was in years ago.
For a year, I have compromised my happiness to do what’s right by Samuel. I have changed for the better. I’m a better person for knowing him, learning from him, and being with him. Now the anxiety from fear of hearing they can’t find him is destroying me. I can’t continue to beat myself around any longer.
I need to be prepared mentally for any news.
Gran’s leather diary is by my bedside table, and yet, I haven’t opened it in fear it will completely undo me when I’m already hanging on by a thread. I expect the truth about Kaikare will be revealed. Already I can picture Gran in our jungle home—Rose’s first home.
I thought I’d run out of tears by now.
