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“You don’t know what I want.” He pushes my hand away.
“Isn’t that a problem?” I ask.
“You’re tired, that’s all. Look at you.” He lifts my glasses off my face. “Are you getting any sleep? You look fucking exhausted.”
“I am exhausted, but it doesn’t have anything to do with this. I can’t marry you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t love you, Ethan. Not like that. I’m sorry.”
He snorts. “This isn’t about love. It has nothing to do with love.”
“What?” I ask, taken aback. It’s not the response Iexpect. I was afraid I’d hurt him with those words, but that doesn’t seem to be it at all.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Forget it. Look, you’re tired,” he says. He closes his hand around mine, the one that is holding the ring.
“No. What do you mean?”
“I mean you’ve had a lot going on. I know. I get it. That’s all this is. Just the stress of it all. And I haven’t been there for you like I should be.” He smiles and squeezes my hand, then opens it, takes the ring, and tries to push it back on my finger.
“No. Stop.” He grips my wrist hard. “Ethan, I mean it. Stop!” I push against his chest and manage to slip away only because he’s surprised by my outburst. It’s not the Phee he’s used to.
His jaw clenches, his hands fist, and he takes a step toward me. “Phee.” He closes his eyes and forces a deep breath in. “It’s too late,” he says, shaking his head and opening his eyes. “My parents are expecting this. After all they’ve done, all the money.” He gestures around the apartment. “All of it, this is how you’ll thank them? By embarrassing them?”
“Do you hear yourself?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid.
“Do you love me, Ethan?”
“Come on. Don’t be ridiculous.” He steps toward me but I back away, holding out my hands to keep distance between us.
“Do you?”
“You know I do.”
“I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m sorry. I should have had the courage to do it earlier. I shouldn’t have ever accepted the ring.”
His phone pings with a message and he digs it out of his pocket to read it. “It’s Mom. She wants to know if we’re on our way. There’s a snowstorm coming,” he says and starts to type something out.
“I think it may be better if I don’t go.”
He finishes his reply and drops the phone back in his pocket. “No. No, that won’t work. We’ll talk about it. The party’s important, you know that. And given what your father did and what it cost my father, maybe you can just be there for him once. Just once. Give him this night.”
Guilt claws at my insides.
“Just show your face, Phee, and we don’t have to announce anything at the gala. I’ll talk to my parents. And we’ll talk, you and me. I promise. Okay? And if you tell me you don’t want to marry me after we talk, I’ll understand. Can you give me that, baby?” He steps closer, wraps his arms around me, and turns my face toward him. “It’s me, Phee. It’s just me.”
“The engagement is off. You understand that.”
“We’ll talk. I promise. We’ll talk.” He pushes the ring into his pocket. “Go get ready. Come on. We should head up.”
I sigh, needing to be away from him, and nod, notsure what I’m nodding to, knowing this isn’t quite over. I’m walking to the bathroom when he stops me.
“By the way, found out who bought your house.”
“You did? How and who?” I turn to ask. The buyer had overpaid by a lot and insisted on anonymity, which was weird.
“Don’t tell Dad I told you, but you know they wanted to buy it for us, right? Dad tried, at least. It would have been a wedding gift.”
“What?” I had no idea.
