Chapter 32
the vein of love
brOOKLYN
The tungsten felt cold and heavy in my hand.
It was rock-hammered and not only the picture of strength but actually durable.
I could imagine Marco wearing the band on his finger and touching me with it.
The metal coming in contact with my skin when he held my hand or squeezed my breast. Although, it wasn’t just the weight I disliked.
“It’ll shatter on impact,” I said, pursing my lips as I finally shook my head. “I need something that’s durable for everyday wear and those moments of force.” My baby gave me a good kick, as if to demonstrate.
“Have you considered meteorite?” the ARA salesman asked, raising an inquisitive brow. “You wanted unique, that’s unique.” He took the tungsten band from me and placed it back in the case. He was awaiting my answer, but he wasn’t going to like it.
“Not that unique. I’m not looking for my fiancé’s ring to rust.” I resisted rolling my eyes.
I was going to have to do this myself if I wanted to get Marco the perfect wedding band.
Yes, it needed to be special, but it also needed to represent him.
This felt like my way of going for the gold, and luckily for me, I’d been preparing for it my whole life.
With my hand on my back, I turned and walked away from the case the salesman had brought me in front of.
I found the one that displayed traditional wedding bands and bent my knees to take a peek inside.
The raging pain I was feeling in my back had to be ignored because I had something far more important to do than worry about my discomfort.
It wouldn’t change no matter what I did anyway.
Finding something I liked, I tapped the glass softly. “Can I see this one?” I asked as he stood behind the case, impatiently waiting for me to make up my mind. It was a thick, textured platinum ring.
Smiling, he reached his hand in, his mother of pearl cufflinks hitting the light and shimmering. “This is an excellent ring. It’s also ethically-sourced platinum,” he said, passing it to me.
That was a definite bonus. “Recycled or certified responsibly mined?”
“It’s not recycled,” he answered, pulling out another ring while I was studying the first one. I noticed it was a polished finish. It was lovely, but it felt very bland. All of the options did.
Didn’t he understand this was for Marco? Marco Deluca?
It was going to sit on his finger with the vein of love. It needed to come from the heart and speak to it too.
It needed to be as complex as he was. A layer of charm. A layer of strength. A layer of emotional regulation for those challenging moments where he could succumb to intense feelings but chose to cope rather than react.
His wedding band was going to symbolize the lifelong commitment he had to his family as much as the one he was making to me. It didn’t matter how this started, what mattered was how it was going to end, and in any scenario, I think we both knew that was a trip down the aisle.
I wanted his band to be the first thing he ever received in his life that didn’t come with obligation or expectation.
There would be no hidden meaning that he was a Deluca, son of Santo and Cecilia.
There would just be a promise, a promise that I’d always come together with him, a promise that together we could weather any storm.
In many ways, my father’s methods and his motivations were wrong, but he still managed to give me one of the greatest gifts he could’ve ever given me. And I didn’t think he had a clue. He finally freed me by trying to entangle me with a man.
“It needs to be custom,” I finally declared, causing the man to pause in whatever he was doing to busy himself while I thought.
“Get a notepad because I know exactly what I want.” And, who knew, maybe what I designed for Marco would be the first piece in my capsule collaboration with them in the future.
I had already been brought on as an influencer, so it was possible.
As he bent down and retrieved a bucket that had a calculator, pad, and pencil, I pushed aside the presentation pad and ring foam he’d taken out for me.
I closed my eyes and let the words flow freely from me. “I want it to have contrasting finishes, brushed texture meets polish. In the center, I want the band to feature diamond melees of all the same size. I’m thinking half a carat. Two-thirds at most. Orange diamonds—”
His eyes grew wide. “Pure orange?”
I shook my head. Those were scarce, I knew that.
“With yellow modifiers,” I explained what I had been about to say had he not interrupted me.
The orange and yellow was intended to represent the paradox that Marco was.
The way he was beguiling, just as flames were both beautiful and dangerous, so was he.
He had embers within him, waiting to burn bright when the time called for it, embers that captivated me and would continue to captivate me.
“Lab-grown?”
“A mix of lab-grown and ethically-sourced natural would be fine.” I liked that lab-grown allowed for innovation, and it bypassed the need for ethical sourcing as it was free from the concerns related to labor and environmental conflict.
But natural needed to be in the mix because I liked the idea that his ring contained geological treasures.
At one time, I had only truly treasured my gems, my jewelry, even if I’d convinced myself I also treasured my family.
But that was wrong. I didn’t think I had.
I think I thought that being dutiful, doing what my parents wanted just so we’d always be together, was treasuring them.
When in reality, it made me resent them and, as a result, myself.
It wasn’t until Marco came into my life, I learned what it really meant to treasure someone.
His ring needed a piece of that message, an eternal reminder of everything he had given me. Everything he gave me.