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I feel the tension in his voice, so I take it from him and turn to walk out of the bathroom.
Instead of putting it on, I lay it on the table, sit back down, and reach out with trembling hands to grasp my coffee.
Ringer takes the seat right next to me instead of the one across from me.
“You would annul it?” he asks cautiously.
I let out a sigh and drag my hands through my hair. I pull slightly on the ends, causing pain to jolt through my scalp to ensure I’m not stuck in a dream.
I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling.
Married. I think I’m in shock. I need to go to the hospital before I have a heart attack at the ripe age of 23.
“Talk to me, Lile.”
I drag my eyes over to him, finding him staring intently at me.“You want to be married to me?” I ask.
“You seemed pretty fucking happy last night to be marrying me.”
“That wasn’t what I asked. Besides, you can’t hold that against me. I’ve been in love with you since I was like 13. But that was then. This is now, Ringer. We hardly know each other!”
“That isn’t true.”
My eyelids drop as I glare at him, and he chuckles. His next question hits me square in the chest and has tears gathering in my eyes. “Why wouldn’t I want to be married to you?”
“Ringer, you’ve been out of prison for five minutes. How do you even know you like me? We aren’t even dating!”
“You’re right. We aren’t dating. We’re married.”
“You’re impossible!”
His chuckle settles the tension in my shoulders, and when his hand lands on my forearm, the rest of it melts away.
“I’m not letting you give up on us, Princess.”
“I didn’t even really know there was an us, Ringer.”
“What’d you think was going on the past couple of weeks?”
“I don’t know! I was honestly too shocked that the guy I’ve been pining over for ten years was even looking at me in that way!”
Ringer’s free hand reaches out, taking the ring between his fingers. He studies it before training his eyes on me. “Please put it on,” he asks gently.
I pause for a moment, volleying between listening to my head that says this is the most insane thing I could ever imagine and listening to my heart screaming to let him put the ring back on my finger. This is the person that I’ve wanted to be attached to for my entire life.
I don’t miss the slight drop in his shoulders and the small smile pulling at his lips as I outstretch my left hand. Sliding the obnoxious diamond down my finger, Ringer smiles triumphantly at me before kissing my knuckle right above it.
“You really want to be married? Why me?” I ask, my insecurities rushing to the front of my mind.
“Don’t do that shit, Lilah. You are more than good enough for anyone to marry. I’m just the lucky fucker you said yes to.”
“You asked me?” I ask in disbelief.
Ringer grabs his phone from the table, opening the photo app once again. The picture he showed me in the bathroom is still on the screen. It’s of the two of us with the tacky Elvis in the background. Ringer looks down at me like I’m the only woman in the world, and the smile on my face as I look back up at him has tears burning my vision.
The memory of me as a teenager, dreaming of marrying this very man, reels through my mind as I focus on the picture of adult me making that dream come true.
The next image has me bursting into a fit of laughter. In it, Ringer is holding my face as he kisses me fiercely. But that isn’t what has me crying from laughter. The reason I am laughing is because at the bottom corner of the picture is Sparrow. She took the photo in selfie mode, so Ringer and I are farther in the back, but in the front is her and the Elvis impersonator with her tongue down his throat.
