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Ringer scrolls through a few more of us at the jewelry store, each showing me holding my hand out with the biggest smile on my face while showing off my new jewels.
He lands on the picture he must have been looking for, and I roll my eyes and smile.
Ringer is on one knee in front of me, and I can see the ring in one hand and a small piece of something in his other.
“What is that?”
“Do you remember when we were kids, and you were obsessed with that George Strait song?”
“Check Yes or No?”
Ringer nods, leaning to his side to reach into his back pocket.
Tears blur my vision as he slides a bar napkin across the table toward me. Written in red lipstick, it says:
Do you love me? Do you want to be my ol’ lady?
I laugh as I wipe the tears off my cheeks.
“Where did you get the lipstick?”
“Sparrow,” he shrugs. “I asked for a pen, but she had this.”
“Clever.”
“That’s another thing Sparrow kind of blabbed. She said you always wished someone would’ve asked you to be theirs like that.”
“I was ten!” I laugh.
He shrugs again. “So.”
Ringer folds the napkin up again before putting it back in his pocket. We sit in silence for a few minutes as I process.
I break the silence after Ringer finishes off his coffee. “So we’re really married, huh?”
“Says the state of Nevada.”
“My dad’s going to kill me.”
Ringer winces and bites his lip before saying, “You and me both.”
“What do we do now?”
“We go home and tell our families. We’ll figure it all out.”
My eyes widen, thinking about telling my dad I went to Vegas for a job and came home with a husband.
Husband.
Holy fuck.
“Wait…”
“What?”
“We can’t tell our families.”
Ringer rears back as if I slapped him. “What? Why?”
