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“What’s going on?” I ask as I stretch my arms out in front of me. I realize the gum is still in my mouth. Thank fuck it didn’t fall out into my hair.
“Car accident or something, I’m assuming,” Ringer yawns, nodding toward the cars in front of us.
I open up the map app on my phone and groan at what looks like miles of a bold red line on our route home. “Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a bit.”
Ringer rolls his head toward me and gives me a small smile. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better, that’s for sure.”
“Nauseous?”
I take a deep breath and shake my head. “I’m not, actually. Thank God.”
Ringer chuckles, turning his head back to the road.
“How long was I out?”
“Eh. Hour and a half, maybe.”
I nod, taking another sip of the now lukewarm soda.
Since I’m awake, Ringer turns the dial on the radio slightly louder. Grateful that he left it low so I could sleep, I smile at him.
Even though we’re in standstill traffic with no sign of moving anytime soon, he leaves his left hand on the steering wheel. My eyes zone in on his hand, and I realize I’m the only one here wearing a ring.
“Where is your ring?”
Ringer laughs, stretching out his left hand as if looking for one himself. “You were pretty adamant that I wasn’t allowed to buy my own ring.”
“Why didn’t I buy you one?”
“You didn’t have your wallet.”
“So when you put my ring on me, what did I put on you?”
He leans to the side, fishing something out of his front pocket, and hands me a small bread tie.
“Where the fuck did we get that?”
“You stole it off a loaf of bread at a corner store.”
“Jesus Christ.” I grab my head, shaking it in incredulity. I hand the bread tie back to him and let out a deep breath. It seems that drunk me was quite the romantic as well as a thief.
I wonder what my dad will say when we get home and break the news. The last time he saw me, I was single, and now I’m coming home married to one of his club brothers.
Holy fuck, I’m in trouble.
Aside from the low bass from the radio, Ringer seems to be comfortable sitting in silence. I can’t say I’m the same. Anxiety creeps up my chest, and my neck feels like it’s on fire. The nausea of last night’s indulgences is gone, but now the fear of what’s to come when we get home is making me feel queasy.
All my life, I would’ve given anything to be married to this man. But now, as an adult, is this really something I want? And is this how I really wanted it to happen?
“What happens now?” I work up the courage to ask.
“With us?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, when we get home, we tell everyone we got married.”
