Pizza My Heart 3

by Glenna Sinclair

  “No, no,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Oh my God, I didn’t even consider how this would look. I’m so stupid. It’s not — that. It’s not a proposal.”

  I loved the man. I loved him irrevocably. But our romance and relationship was so whirlwind that we both understood and accepted the fact that we should take it slow from here on out. We’d nearly been ripped apart by misunderstandings and mistrust that had spun out of control — things that could’ve been avoided if we’d simply taken more time getting to know each other.

  Marriage, right now, wasn’t something either of us were supposed to be thinking about, even if I did consider our relationship in the extreme long term, as in, what was I going to wear for the premiere of the movie, still more than a year away. At least, that was a long-term idea for me.

  “Just open it,” Devon said. “No strings attached — none ringing wedding bells, that is.”

  I eyed him, slowly reaching out for the box. “It better not be a ring, Devon.”

  He grimaced. “It is a ring. But … just open it. I’ll explain. No wedding bells. I promise.”

  I pried open the box, my traitor heart flip-flopping over what it symbolized for most, and my breath whooshed out of my lungs in spite of what I’d told Devon. It was a gorgeous ring, the stone bright in the setting sun, the biggest I’d ever seen in person.

  “Devon, what the hell?” I gasped, feeling like I’d been socked in the stomach. “What are you thinking?”

  “I wanted to give this to you sooner, but it took a while to make,” he said as I ogled the stone. “I know what it looks like, but it’s not what you think. I wanted to help memorialize Nana with the film, sure, but I also wanted you to have a piece of her you could hang on to. I know it wasn’t an easy decision for you to have her cremated. I hope you don’t mind.”

  I still didn’t understand what I was holding, let alone what Devon was talking about.

  “After the cremation, I sent some of Nana’s ashes to a special company,” he continued, touching the stone lightly. “They make diamonds out of the cremated remains of loved ones, so the survivors can remember them in a beautiful way.”

  “You mean that this diamond … it’s Nana?” I carefully removed the ring out of the box, unreasonably terrified that it would slip from my fingers and plunge into the sand, to be lost forever.

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” Devon said. “They helped me pick the design. I thought it might be something you like. Something you’d like to wear. Do you? Like it, I mean?”

  He sounded so nervous after doing the sweetest and most meaningful thing for me I could’ve ever thought of, so I slipped the ring on my finger and hugged him.

  “Of course I like it,” I said, barely able to get the words out over the surge of emotion in my throat. “I love it, Devon. I don’t love thinking about how much it had to have cost, but I love it all the same. And I love you.”

  “Let me worry about the money,” he said. “I know it sounds entitled, but I really do have more than I could spend.”

  “About that …” I pulled away and smiled at him. “I’ve been getting cold calls from literary agents.”

  Devon’s eyes bugged out. “Really?”

  “Don’t look so surprised,” I said, laughing at him. “You thought my open letter was good, too.”

  “I’m not surprised, I’m ecstatic,” he said, pulling me back into his embrace and giving me a kiss. “Writing a book is much better than delivering pizzas, don’t you think?”

  I pinched him. “That reminds me. What are you in the mood for dinner-wise?”

  “Not pizza, that’s for sure,” he said. “Though maybe I could be convinced to have a certain pizza delivery girl for dinner …”

  “That’s former delivery pizza girl to you,” I informed him.

  We kissed just as the sun sank behind the clouds, the moment suspended in time and colored by an ethereal paintbrush of sunset. Life wasn’t a fairytale, sure, but it did have its perfect moments. And this was definitely one.

  ~ End ~

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