by Poppy Parkes
“Well, I am. What else do you want me to say?” she countered.
“How about whether or not you love me, too.”
She winced. “Oh.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oh. So what'll it be?”
“Like, will I or won't I marry you?”
“Do you love me?” His eyes were ablaze.
Ruth stared long and hard at him, watching his face grow redder with what she imagined was shame and embarrassment. She felt heat begin to spread across her own cheeks, her heart beginning to hammer again. Seeing him like this, practically writhing under the chill of her silence, wrenched at her gut, her eyes filling with tears. Is this love, she thought, that I'd do practically anything to keep him from being hurt? That all I can think about is his breath, his eyes, his skin against mine?
Padme's voice suddenly echoed through her memory. “How about we just agree that this is a damn good thing,” she'd said earlier during their phone call.
A damn good thing. That was what she had with Derek. That was it exactly. Something she'd stopped hoping for, something that she'd no longer believed existed. And yet – she had it, with him. With this man that made her feel more alive than she had in – well, maybe ever.
Twin tears spilled from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks as she drew in a shaky breath and opened her mouth to reply.
“I –“ she began, limbs trembling. Another deep breath, and she managed to blurt, “I need you to get tested for STDs.”
Oh. Shit. she thought.
Chapter 11
The idea had come to him when he was heading back to the office after he and Ruth had ridden swan boats. Striding along the busy Boston sidewalk, traffic belching the scent of exhaust into the air as it hustled by, Derek had passed a jewelry shop with trinkets of diamond-studded gold and silver gleaming at him invitingly. The sight had made him stop in his tracks, then drawn him into the store, barely understanding why.
Until he saw the ring. It was the first that his eyes fell on once he was inside the doors, but he knew instantly – it was for her. For Ruth. The muted gold, the finely wrought leaves, the way the central diamond blossomed from its setting – it could only be hers. It begged to be hers.
And it was only then that the gears of his brain started grinding out what such a gift would mean. Engagement. As soon as the word revealed itself, it glimmered alluringly, and then alarmingly.
Was he, the devout bachelor, actually considering marriage of all things? Tying himself to a single woman until death do them part?
But, the ring seemed to remind him as he gazed at it, resting within its glass case, it wouldn't be just any woman that he'd be tying himself to. It'd be the woman – the one who had so surprisingly, so deliciously captured his mind and heart. Who was teaching him how to love love itself, to understand why so many poets' pens had bled words of the heart, why it was considered by some to be the most powerful force on the planet.
And marriage . . . well, that seemed to be the next logical step after finding love. Wasn't it? He'd shaken his head at the ring, unsure. They hadn't even known each other a week. Surely pursuing engagement at this point was premature.
And yet he couldn't get the idea out of his head. Nor could he take his eyes from the ring, with its antique essence.
A clerk, an older woman with coiffed silver curls and violet eye shadow, had approached him. “Would you like to take a closer look at anything?”
After a moment, Derek had nodded. “Yes,” he'd said, pointing at the ring. “That one, please.”
“Ah,” the clerk had said knowingly, slipping the ring from its perch, “one of my favorites. Such a lovely piece.” She passed the ring to him, and he accepted it into his gently cupped hand.
The ring felt alive in his hand, strangely warm and electric. As if it knew, knew the insanity that he was apparently considering seriously.
“I'll take it.” The words were out of his mouth before he'd even decided to purchase the ring. But even as he felt his eyes widen with shock at his own statement, he knew that he wouldn't take it back. That he couldn't.
“What a special gift this will make,” the clerk had said with a knowing wink. “For a very special person, I hope?”
“An incredible woman. One that I am lucky to know,” he'd replied, wiping suddenly sweaty palms on his trousers.
“How wonderful,” she'd said, ringing him up, settling the ring into a tiny box, and slipping the box into a bag with the receipt before handing it to him. “Best of luck, dear.”
“Thanks,” he'd said, heading back out the store, clutching the bag. Glancing at his watch, he saw that the whole exchange had only taken a few minutes, even though it had felt curiously longer.
Resuming his march down the street back to his office, Derek's heart had started to pound. Did I seriously just buy an engagement ring for the woman I just met a few days ago? Me?! But then he'd remembered the feeling of the ring in his hand, and of Ruth leaning against him while they rode the swan boats, and his panic receded, replaced by a deeper knowing.
Reaching his office building and riding the elevator up, he'd recalled Ruth's frustration at the job that leached all of her time and energy, leaving little for her passion – writing. He could clearly see how much it hurt her, how it made the work she needed to do to make a living more and more unbearable the longer her dreams went unpursued.
But if we were married, he realized, she wouldn't have to teach, or work at any job unless she wanted to. His law career made more than enough money to support himself and another comfortably, leaving her free to write.
His heart had begun to thump again, but this time with excitement.
By the time he'd stepped off the elevator, he was smiling. Jani looked up from the typing she was doing, eyes instantly traveling to the bag he carried, which was clearly marked with the name of the popular jeweler's.
“Is that . . . jewelry, Mr. Stone?” she'd squeaked.
He'd winked back. “You'll see soon enough,” Derek had said as he breezed by, heading straight for his office and stowing the bag in the bottom drawer of his desk.
Derek had spent the rest of the day grinning, much to the perplexity of his co-workers. But their teasing couldn't rattle him. He'd finally found love, he knew, and it had been more of a gift than he'd ever expected. There was nothing that would make him give it up. He couldn't wait to see Ruth again, this time with the ring in tow.
* * *
As soon as the words had flown from her lips, Ruth wished she could snatch them from the ocean-scented air and stuff them back down her own throat. She felt her eyes widen in horror as his confusion yielded to comprehension.
“Tested,” Derek said, voice flat. “You want me to get tested for STDs.”
“That's not what I meant to say.” The words sounded weak and reedy even to her own ears, tossed about on the wind. She tasted the tang of panic infiltrating her mouth.
“I can get tested,” he said, shrugging. “I don't care about that. But it sounds like what you're really saying is that you're not into me.” In one smooth motion he snapped the ring box closed and stuffed it back in his pocket, turning on his heel and striding back toward the hotel arch.
Ruth stood motionless, her insides in tumult as she watched Derek stalk away. At last something broke in her and she dashed after him, shouting, “Wait! Please!”
At her cry, he turned, his usually golden skin uncharacteristically pale, his lips set into a thin line. “What.” The word was not a question.
“That's not what I meant to say,” she repeated as she ran up, hair whipping around her face.
“So what did you mean to say?”
“Well . . . that the ring is beautiful, for one thing,” she replied, smiling apologetically. “I mean, I've never imagined what kind of engagement ring I might like, but if I had . . . it would have looked a lot like the one you chose.”
Derek's mouth softened a little. “When I saw it, I knew, somehow, that it wasn't meant for any oth
er finger than yours.”
Ruth wanted to melt, to actually disintegrate into a puddle of lovestruck guts right there on the wharf. “That's amazing.”
“Was that all you had to say?” said Derek. “Because I'm still not hearing anything like a 'yes.'”
She sighed. “Derek, I so want to say yes. Desperately, really,” she said, realizing the truth of her words as she voiced them. “But it feels so fast, you know?”
“I know,” he agreed. “But I also know that this thing between us, it's just right. Don't you feel that, too?” Ruth felt as if he was looking down into her soul with those amazing blue eyes of his. She sighed again, this time a swooning sort of breath.
“I do feel it,” she whispered, reaching out to tug at one of the buttons on his jacket. “I do.”
“But . . . ?”
She shook her head. “We've only known each other a few days! How do I know that this rightness you feel won't wear off in a week or a month or a year? That you won't miss your wandering ways? Because I will not tolerate being a trophy wife to you or any man who intends on having a string of affairs.”
“I know that there's no logic I can present to convince you, Ruth,” said Derek, brushing a thumb across her face, making her tremble. “All I can say is – I love you. I love you. I don't know why, or even how, but I do. And it's enough to make me give up any other way of living. Forever.”
“How can you make promises of forever?” she asked, forehead furrowing. “I mean, I can't even promise you what I'll eat for breakfast tomorrow.”
“But can you promise me that you'll always be true to me?” he asked.
“Well, yes, of course,” she said, as if it was obvious.
“I am promising from the same place you are. Even if my past doesn't give you much proof of fidelity . . . I am still promising you from the deepest parts of myself.” Derek's voice came quiet and soft now, thin plumes of hurt tendriling through his words. “Depths I didn't know existed until I met you.”
“Oh,” Ruth breathed, both worries and words fading, failing, at his reply.
“You have changed me. You are changing me. And not because you treated me like a project,” he continued. “I'm not changing begrudgingly. Knowing you makes me want to be better. Knowing you makes me better, period.”
“But . . . maybe this is just a sort of reversed Florence Nightingale effect, then,” she murmured, not truly believing her own words, but feeling she had to protest nonetheless, “and you'll forget me as soon as I'm not around anymore, or things get hard, or –”
“I don't think you were hearing me earlier,” Derek said with a smile, taking her chin gently in his fingers and tilting her head up toward him. “I can't stop thinking about you, even when I want to, when I need to.”
“And getting engaged will help with that how?”
“I'll know that no other eligible bachelor will snap you up.”
“You trust me so little?” she murmured, raising an eyebrow.
“I love you so much,” he teased back, and then his lips were on hers, hard and insistent and yet somehow gentle. She wound her arms about his neck, lacing her finger into his thick hair, pulling his head down toward her, their kiss growing in intensity and insistence. She felt as if their two was becoming one with each other, with the swell of the harbor waves and the sighing of the insatiable wind.
When their kiss broke, Ruth tucked herself into his chest and pulled his arms around her. The box bearing the ring, she saw, was still clutched by one of his hands. Smiling up at him, she plucked the box from his fingers and opened it.
The glimmering of the exquisite ring made her breath catch. “It really is perfect,” she breathed, taking the ring and sliding it onto her finger. “And it fits! How in the world did you manage that?”
Derek shook his head. “I didn't manage anything. Like I said, I knew the ring was for you, so I bought it.”
“You didn't guess at sizing it or anything?” she gasped.
“Nope,” he replied, smiling. “It looks like I was right – this ring really was made for you.”
“It's amazing,” she said, extending her hand so she could admire the ring.
Derek squeezed her gently. “So . . . is this a 'yes'?”
“It's . . . a maybe,” she managed. “As long as I get to keep wearing the ring while I decide for sure.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her, smile gleaming brighter. “That sounds suspiciously like a 'yes,' you know.”
Ruth laughed. “I know. I suppose it essentially is a 'yes.' But the logical part of me can't quite allow me to confirm it yet.” She turned in his arms to face him. “Is that okay? I know it's not what you were hoping for.”
“You're asking me if I'm okay with the woman I fell madly in love with inside the space of a few days wearing the engagement ring I gave her and seriously considering my proposal?” he asked, a playful lilt in his voice.
She nodded. “Yep, that pretty much sums it up.”
“Ruth, I know this is crazy. It's maybe even crazier for me than you. I never thought I'd see this day. So . . . for you to actually want to say yes, to be thinking about it for real? It is more than okay with me. It is fucking amazing.”
“You are fucking amazing,” she said with a coy smile, pulling him in for another kiss, the harbor air tangling her hair about both their faces.
Chapter 12
The coffeehouse where Ruth sat with Padme, Cecilia, and Maddie slowly filled as they sipped their various drinks and nibbled at delicious treats. Two musicians were readying to perform their bluegrass set on a low platform that had been set up to serve as a stage near the back of the cafe, against a rustic-looking brick wall.
Ruth half listened to her friends' soothing banter as she alternated quaffs of espresso with bites of an almond croissant. She played with the ring Derek had given her the day before, rotating the diamond encrusted band around her finger again and again. She still hadn't given him an answer. That was why she'd invited her friends here, to ask them if marrying a guy with a sordid past was a totally insane idea. She cringed at the thought – it sounded bad even inside her head.
But she really wanted to say yes, against all her better judgment. Ruth felt almost glad that she'd lost her phone, because she suspected that if she'd had it with her, she might not have been able to resist calling Derek and jumping into engagement before she'd truly made her decision.
Ruth knew it must be torturing him, though, not having heard from her at all since his proposal. She sort of hoped it was, just a little bit anyway. She smiled mischievously at the thought.
Padme caught her smirk. “What are you smiling about, lady?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
Shaking her head, Ruth tried to swallow some of her rather devious mirth and failing. “Nothing.”
“No way,” Maddie objected. “You were thinking about that dude.”
“Derek,” Padme added, nodding. “She's got it bad for him.”
“Intriguing,” said Maddie, raising her eyebrows appraisingly. “This is the guy you picked up at the bar last weekend?”
“I didn't pick him up,” Ruth protested.
“Either that or he picked you up. I think it sounds better the other way,” Maddie countered with a shrug.
“And,” Padme interjected as Ruth opened her mouth to argue, “apparently he's as into her as she is into him.”
“Ooh!” squealed Cecilia. “That's incredible! It's so hard to find a guy who actually wants a real relationship, you know?”
“Well, apparently relationships are a first for this one,” Padme snorted. Ruth elbowed her, blushing furiously.
“You've got him whipped,” Maddie said, nodding. “I approve.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “That's offensive. And ridiculous.”
“No, you're ridiculous – ridiculously in love,” said Padme around a bite of biscotti, eyes glinting with amusement.
Ruth felt her mouth flop open, but failed to conjure forth any words of protest that would ac
tually hold up to their teasing. Because Padme was – along with Derek, when it came down to it – quite right. She felt the tips of her ears grow warm as she blushed with the truth of it.
Cecelia saw and squealed again. “Oooh, you are in love, aren't you? How delicious!”
“It's about damn time you got some action,” added Maddie.
“That's what I keep telling her,” Padme agreed.
“So, is he as handsome as he looked at Czar's?” asked Cecilia.
“And,” Maddie said, wiggling her eyebrows, “more importantly, is he good in bed?”
Ruth felt her blush deepen. “First of all, I'm not just getting some action. Second –”
