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"Sex isn't going to heal you, Luna. You think it will, but it won't." He smiles at me, his thumb wiping a tear from my cheek.
"What will heal me then? I just want you, but you won't even have me. Is it because you think I'm ruined?"
He laughs, "You aren't ruined, Luna. You're mine."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ROMAN
"Dude, are you sure about this?" Dylan, one of my friends from the station, asks as we hop out of the cab.
"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," I say, stepping out onto the curb. We walk toward the doors in front of us, and Dylan grabs the handle, pulling the glass panel open for the both of us.
He shakes his head at me. "It's just hard to believe you went from being chronically single, almost celibate, to…" he steps inside, the noise nonexistent, "this."
I look around, seeing the diamonds all around me. "I told you, you wouldn't understand," I murmur, walking up to the first case of diamonds.
"So, tell me." He places the tips of his fingers on the glass top, instantly inciting a heavy frown from one of the workers. He shifts to a stand instantly, attempting to wipe his prints off the glass. All that does is create a smear, and he cringes, taking a heavy step back. "Why so soon?"
I shake my head. "It isn't too soon. I've known Luna since I was a child. I'm surprised it's taken this long, to be honest."
"When can I meet her?" He looks over at me.
I laugh. "Never." Dylan is one of the single guys at FDNY. This guy is and always will be a bachelor. He’s like the guys from the band when we just started, although I don’t think Dylan will ever change.
A man in a pressed suit walks up to me, looking as slick and polished as ever. "How can I help you gentlemen?"
"I want to buy an engagement ring," I say, nerves pounding against my stomach.
The man grows a smile, dollar bills shaping his pupils. "Well, we've certainly got a good selection. Is there anything in particular you had in mind?"
Dylan laughs beside me, and I shoot him a scowl.
The man waits patiently, his arms folded in front of his waist, a small smile on his face. "I honestly don't have a clue what I'm looking for."
He gives me a stiff smile. "Well, maybe we can narrow it down with a price range?"
I shake my head. "No price range."
The dollar bills in his eyes grow.
Dylan grabs my arm, squeezing tight. "Are you shitting me? Think for a minute, Roman."
I pull my arm out of his. "Luna is the love of my life. Whether it costs one thousand dollars or ten thousand dollars, she'll still be the love of my life. I'll know when I see the ring, I don't need a price to decide that."
He stares at me, blinking slowly. Then he gives me a loud slap on the back. "Fuck, man. You're in love. Can't wait to meet her."
I stifle a chuckle. "You're not."
If I had it my way, I'd just keep her to myself at this point. I don’t need any reasons for her to walk out the door again.
"Well, let me show you some different cuts, and we can go from there?"
I give the man a nod, and he takes us down the line of different cases, showing me different types of rings. White gold, regular gold, rose gold. Princess cut, round, pear, oval. So many fucking decisions.
Only one stands out.
"That one." I point to it right when I see it.
