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“Is it true?” I croak out.
“I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re an amazing woman, Alex.”
For someone else.
He doesn’t say it, but it hangs in the air between us.
In an effort to ease the tension inside myself, I blurt, “Why do you want this club?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him flick his gaze to me before returning it to the road.
“Not that it matters for our plan, but it would be the perfect location for what I have planned.”
“I’d say it matters. You’re asking me to lie for you.”
He’s quick with his reply when he states, “In exchange for me clearing your student loans.”
When he says it like that it makes me feel dirty and like maybe this is a huge mistake.
“Is that the real reason? That it’s the perfect location?”
He breathes out an exasperated sigh and I don’t miss the way he squeezes the steering wheel. “Yes, Alex. That’s the real reason.”
I want to ask him more about what his plan is, but it’s not really my place and I’m not sure he’d tell me.
We sit in silence for a while, the sound of the radio in the background the only noise. I’m thinking over his words as he concentrates on the road ahead.
A sense of longing is in my tone and I can’t quite hide it when I say, “I don’t have a ring.”
He tips his head toward the glove compartment. “Check in there.”
My brow pulls together. When did he have time to get a ring? Curiosity gets the better of me and I pop open the handle of the glove compartment to reveal a teal ring box from a famous Fifth Avenue jeweler sitting atop the car paperwork. My lips part slightly as my brow furrows deeper with a mix of confusion and curiosity.
“What did you do, Sebastian?”
“We need it to look real.”
“Right, but we could have said it was getting resized or something. You didn’t need to go and buy an actual ring. It’s only for a week.”
Ignoring me, he asks, “Are you going to take it out and look at it or just stare at the box?”
Tentatively, I pick up the ring box, closing the glove compartment before I sit back in my chair. A sense of nervousness takes over me as I contemplate whether or not I want to start whatever is about to happen.
I always thought the first ring that would go on my left ring finger would come with a proposal from the man I love. A real proposal. That he’d get down on one knee and tell me how much he loved me and that he couldn't wait to spend the rest of eternity with me.
Is it bad luck to put a ring on your finger if you aren’t really engaged?
My chest tightens as my breaths come in short, sharp pants. Every inch of my skin prickles with a cold chill and this unexplainable sense of doom chokes me.
In a voice I don’t recognize, I gasp out, “Stop the car!”
My eyes dart out of the passenger window as I look for something to focus on. But we’re moving too fast, and the scenery flies by, adding to the dizziness now distorting my vision.
“Please, stop the car.” Tears prick at the back of my eyes and I can’t catch my breath.
Oh God, I’m going to cry.
I force in a deep breath, then count it out. One. Two. Three. Four.
