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And Dana...
I’ve wanted her for so long. Now I have her. Why would I fuck that up?
My phone starts buzzing on my worktable. Speak of the devil (or the angel, really).
“Hey, I was just thinking about you,” I answer, taking a seat on my rolling stool I use to traverse my home office.
“Where are you?” Her voice sounds strained.
“I’m at home. Why? What’s wrong?” My body locks up. “Are you okay? Is something wrong with the baby?”
“No, no, it’s not that.” Dana goes quiet for a moment. “We just need to talk about some things, Drew.”
My heart, which had lodged in my throat with worry, now plummets into my stomach. I know what “we need to talk” means. But I can’t come to grips with the possibility that Dana is casting me out of her life. Not now.
“Okay,” I say, but my voice comes out like a puff of smoke. “I’m just working. Feel free to drop by whenever.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”
“Sounds good.”
I hang up and stare at my phone in my hand. The printer groans in the background. There’s no way I’m going to get any more work done. My focus is shot. I just have to bide my time. I don’t even know how far away Dana is. She could be twenty minutes; she could be half an hour. Fucking LA traffic makes everything unpredictable.
My cheeks feel hot. My heart throbs.
I need a cold shower.
I go upstairs to my bedroom; as I pass my dresser on my way to the bathroom, something red catches my eye. It’s a little box that’s been sitting there for years now. Ever since Mom passed away. I’ve never brought myself to open it.
Until now.
I pop open the ring box and look at my mother’s ring. My father might have been a deadbeat, but he bought my mother a pretty nice engagement ring. Or should I saypromisering. They were never married. Once dad was fully out of the picture, she started wearing it on her right hand.
It’s beautiful. Gold band, a diamond punctuated with two more little ones on the sides. Must have cost him a pretty penny.
“Keep it,” Mom insisted. “I want you to have it. There’s no use putting me in the ground with it.”
The conversations you end up having with a dying relative are some of the strangest. Discussions of mortality became so common place when we knew we had to plan for her end.
I, of course, followed her wishes. She didn’t say it explicitly, but I knew it was meant for the woman she hoped I would one day marry.
I’m not going to wait any longer. Dana’s going to know how much I want her. If she’s scared I’m not going to commit, I’m going to allay all of her fears. I have a ring for her and three words that have been waiting just behind my lips to let her know how much I care for her.
Regardless of the conversation she’s coming here to have, I’m ready to give her all of me.
I take a shower, the cold water shocking me to my core. Resetting my body was the exact thing I needed to do. My pulse slows down, my body temperature returns to normal. I’m ready.
As I get out of the shower, I hear someone in my room. “Dana?” I call out. It’s not unusual for her to let herself in. And if she heard the water running, she would come right up here.
There’s no response.
“Just give me a second,” I call out. I wrap my towel around my waist and enter the bedroom. I freeze in my tracks.
It’s not Dana.
It’s Willow.
She’s facing away from me, toward the dresser. “It’s beautiful, Drew.” She turns around slowly, revealing my mother’s ring on her finger.
