Epilogue
Rob
The next year.
Early spring.
"I'm telling you, dude. This year is going to be the rebuilding year. They can't keep it going," I said, tipping my beer bottle toward my companion. "I was wrong about this past season. I'll give you that much—"
"You'll give me that much," Ben scoffed. "You're such an asshole."
"Calling it like I see it," I replied. "Even the best players age out of the game. The smart ones get out early and invest wisely. I know a guy who manages investments for several former NFL players and—"
"Oh my god, nobody cares," he said, groaning.
I grinned at him from across the table. Ben Brock was one surly son of a bitch. I wasn't certain but it seemed as though he was made entirely of salt. Salt that, at one point, might've loved my fiancée. And here I was, bullshitting about ball games with him while we knocked back a round of beers.
The world was fucking weird.
"All right," I murmured, gesturing to the waiter for our check. "Are we doing this or what?"
He lifted his beer bottle, shooting me a narrowed glance across the table. "What's the rush, Russo? Are you trying to hustle me off the market?"
"Man, you're already off the market," I said with a laugh. "Don't try to deny it."
He shook his head, sipped. "Too right," he said, mostly to himself. He glanced at his phone. "A little more than three months until you walk down the aisle. Not taking any chances between now and then, are you?"
I stared at him, a stiff smile pulling at my lips.
I trusted Magnolia. Through and through.
I trusted Ben—about as far as I could throw him.
Our shared history aside, I knew he didn't want Magnolia.
I knew he belonged to another woman. I knew this, and I knew he wasn't pulling any shit at our wedding.
However, no one was talking me out of caution.
Goddammit, I was getting married.
Fifteen months ago, I swore I'd never love again.
Nine months ago, I broke that vow.
Six months ago, I put a ring on Magnolia's finger.
Three months from now, I was making a new vow. One I intended to keep the rest of my days.
I couldn't fucking wait to marry her on the beach.
"Yeah, let's do this," Ben said, interrupting my thoughts. "I can't deal with the ambiguity anymore. I gotta lock Killer down."
I winced. "Do you have to call her that?"
He shrugged. "It works for her."
I could grant him that much but it didn't make Grace Kilmeade's nickname any more palatable and I worked with guys who went by Booch, Mad Dog, and Mole Sauce. "Whatever, dude," I said. "What's the plan? You said you have a hookup. Is this legal or should I text my attorney in advance?"
"You're such an asshole," he muttered. He rubbed his hands on his thighs as if he was working out some nervous energy. I smirked. Even though I'd been there and done that, I smirked. "What if she says no? That's a possibility, isn't it? I'm sure Gigi said no to you at least four or five times."
I dropped some cash on the table and stood, pulling on my coat. "In on the first shot."
That was always the way with Magnolia. She was the first woman I'd approached on the dating app, the first woman I'd shared my brokenhearted story with, the first woman I loved all the way through and back again, the first I'd asked to marry me, the first I knew better than I knew myself.
Ben led the way through the tavern, stopping outside on the sidewalk. "She's young," he said, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "Haven't you seen the stories about her generation? None of them want to get married."
Magnolia and I had joined in on too many group dates with Ben and Grace over the past few months for me to doubt that she bested him on the maturity scale.
"Millennials don't like home ownership, American cheese, or movie theaters either.
" I gestured toward him. "If we're to believe any of that applies to Grace, we should probably skip this activity altogether because they don't care for diamonds either. "
"You're not helping," he replied.
"All right." I shrugged against the howling wind. "She's not that young. Have you talked about getting married? The future, where things are going, all of that?"
He pierced me with a sharp glare. "Yes, Dr. Phil, we have."
Seriously. Salt to the marrow with this one.
"Then what are you worried about?" I asked. "You've got five, maybe six years on her. Right?"
"Closer to nine," he replied.
I hadn't expected that but kept the surprise off my face. "So what? She's clearly made up for it in maturity. Has her age complicated things yet?"
"No," he grumbled.
"Then why is it a problem now?" I asked. "Despite the fact she enjoys your company, I'd say she's wise beyond her years."
"Truth," he murmured, rubbing his hands together. This late March cold snap was dreadful. "I don't want to do this only to get shot down." He hit me with a pointed glare. "I'm not interested in repeating that experience."
I blinked at him. We both knew that wasn't how it shook out with Magnolia but he was always on the hunt for sympathy. "I'm not following you to an underground gem dealer unless you're sure about this. Get there or buy me a beer because it's too damn cold to stand out here much longer."
He stared down the street for a long moment then turned an impatient glare in my direction. "Why the fuck did I bring you along for this?"
I lifted my shoulders, let them fall. "Beats the shit out of me. Don't you have other friends? I can't be the only person you'd call to chaperone a shopping excursion."
That was the kick in the ass Ben needed because he said, "Okay, then. Let's do this. Let's buy an engagement ring." He coughed and sucked in a breath as if he was choking. "Jesus Roosevelt Christ, I'm asking Killer to marry me. I'm—I'm gonna marry this woman."
I clapped him on the back. "It's great when it hits you, huh? It's like a near-drowning."
He continued coughing and sputtering. "When did this happen? How did this happen?"
"By my count, you have Lauren Walsh to thank."
He hit me with an unimpressed glare. "Can't believe we got roped into moving people we didn't even know. What kind of bullshit was that?"
That earned him another smack on the back. "It worked out for the best. You met Grace, right?"
He gestured down the street and we started in that direction. "Correction. I did not meet her. I was caught in her motherfuckin' force field."
I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, a smile forcing its way across my lips. "Yeah. It's exactly like that."
I followed Ben to a building on the far fringe of Boston's Theater District. After being buzzed in, we climbed two sets of stairs and waited on a narrow landing. I pulled my phone from my pocket and shot off a text to Magnolia.
Rob: This is not what I'd expected but it's 100% on-brand for Brock so I probably should've expected everything.
Magnolia: Sounds about right.
Magnolia: Promise me you won't let him make any excessively odd choices. Odd is fine but not excessively odd. Grace does have a tiny mustache tattoo on her ring finger so…
Rob: I believe that's the entire reasoning behind my invitation to this event.
Magnolia: He invited you because you're his friend and he trusts your opinions.
Magnolia: He likes you. Even if he doesn't act like it.
Magnolia: But also, you have done this a few times.
Rob: You are so rude to me.
"Hey." Ben slapped the doorframe, snatching my attention away from the screen. He tipped his head toward the open door. "He's ready for us."
A man wearing a black apron covered in dusty handprints introduced himself as Syleski as he ushered us into the office. He pointed at the chairs in front of his desk, asking, "Rings, yes? That's what you want?"
Ben glanced to me, an oh fuck what am I doing? look on his face. I pulled out a chair, pushed him into it. "Yes," I answered. "He's looking for an engagement ring."
"Nothing traditional," Ben added. "It has to be different. Really unique."
I nodded but said to Syleski, "Not too different."
The jeweler ducked into the back section of the office while I shucked my winter coat, hung it over the chair. "Loosen up, Brock. You're going to survive."
He snapped off a response but I ignored him in favor of my phone.
Rob: He's not drunk enough for this.
Rob: Neither am I.
Magnolia: You can drink later. With me.
Magnolia: I want to see this ring and I don't think Ben has visited since before we finished work on the kitchen.
Rob: I am not bringing him home after this. I have other plans for our evening, love.
Magnolia: Are we talking plans or Plans?
Rob: Plans.
Magnolia: Maybe you should send me a dick pic so I know what to expect from these Plans.
Rob: You’re going to remind me of that on our wedding day, aren’t you?
Magnolia: Anything is possible.
Syleski returned with a velvet-covered tray and launched into a rapid explanation of each cut, style, material. The options seemed endless. At one point, I was certain Ben went cross-eyed.
"This is modern but also elegant," Syleski said, holding up a slight platinum band with a round diamond winking from the center. "Unique, yes?"
Ben shook his head. "No. That's not right for her." He glanced at me, his eyes wide and hair sticking in every direction after running his hands through it every forty seconds. "I need something as dark as her heart."
The jeweler's brows pitched up. "What he's saying," I jumped in, "is he'd like to see some colored gemstones."
"Do you have black diamonds?" Ben asked.
I swallowed a groan as Syleski answered, "A few, yes." He glanced at me for approval. I shrugged. "You want to see them?"
I glanced between Ben and the jeweler. "How about some black and some colored gemstones? More options."
When Syleski stepped away, Ben shifted to face me. "Am I fucking this up?"
"No, not at all. It's fine. These things take time. Lots of back and forth." I studied my phone for a second. "When are you planning to ask Grace? Do you have an idea how you want to do it?"