Noah #2
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to that, so I leaned back and nodded. “Glad I could be of assistance.”
She studied me before she turned and started heading toward her room once more.
She stopped when she was a few feet away.
“I want you to know I think the ring that fell out of your wallet is beautiful. I hope…” She paused, biting her pouty lip between her teeth once more.
“I hope that you didn’t think my reaction meant I didn’t like it. ”
I raised my eyebrows. She was astute. That was exactly what I thought her reaction meant.
I must have taken too long to respond because she quickly added, “I mean, if that ring was for me.” She shook her head as she closed her eyes. “I’m such an idiot,” she whispered.
A lot had just happened between us. A lot was said, and a lot wasn’t said.
My mind felt like it had been on a teeter-totter of emotions, and I was tired of thinking.
I needed to do something. So I pulled off my comforter and set my feet on the floor.
I stood and walked over to the dresser where I’d set my wallet last night.
I grabbed it and flipped it open. After I removed the ring, I closed the wallet and set it back down. With the ring pinched between my forefinger and thumb, I turned to face Emery.
“This was my grandmother’s,” I said as I slowly brought my gaze up to meet hers. “I think she would have really liked you.”
Her eyes widened as she studied me. “Oh, Noah, I can’t—”
“I want you to.” I didn’t want to hear her excuses. I didn’t want her to remind me, yet again, that this was all fake. I just wanted her to want something of mine. To accept what I had to give, even if, to her, this relationship wasn’t real. Even if it went against our entire agreement.
My heart was currently an open wound in my chest. Accepting this ring wouldn’t fix it, but it would put a bandage on it before I bled out.
I held her gaze so she would know that I was serious. That I needed her to accept it. “Please,” I said, my voice low with emotion.
She slowly began to nod. “Okay,” she whispered, punctuating her response by extending her left hand.
I forced all the fear and doubt out of my head and allowed myself to believe that, in this moment, she wanted my ring. That I was offering my heart, and she was accepting it. That this was real.
I closed the gap between us until her hand was only inches from mine. I stared down at her slender fingers and the faint freckles sprinkled across her soft skin. The desire to press my lips to each one threatened to take over, but I forced it back down as I took her fingers in mine.
I wanted to get down on one knee. I wanted to ask for real, even if the line between what was real and what was fake was rapidly blurring. But I knew that wasn’t what she wanted.
None of this was.
“I’ll give it back if there’s someone else in the future that you want to give this to.”
Her words cut through the haze in my mind. I looked up to see her studying me. There was an earnest hint to her gaze, like she was trying to reassure me as her statement cut me apart.
Was she really worried about me giving her this ring because she thought I would want to give it to another woman in the future? Did she not realize what she did to me? How she made me feel?
I cleared my throat and nodded. “Okay.”
“Rule number five. I’m a woman of my word.”
This was torture. I didn’t want anyone other than her. “Yep,” I said as I positioned the ring at the tip of her finger. I paused and glanced down at her. This was not the way I wanted to do this. “Can I get down on one knee?” I asked—practically begging.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“It feels…inauthentic, doing it like this.” I shrugged. “I’m a superstitious man. I’m pretty sure if I don’t do this right, my grandma will haunt me from the grave.” I paused. “And probably you, too.”
Emery blinked. “Oh. Okay.” She stared to nod. “Let’s do this right, then.”
I secretly celebrated inside. My gaze dropped back down to her fingers as I slowly lowered myself down onto one knee.
My heart pounded in my chest as I glanced up at her.
I knew she was going to say yes—this wasn’t real—but my head and heart refused to accept that fact.
Right now, in this moment, Emery was mine, and I was about to ask her to be mine forever.
“Emery, will you marry me?”
Her gaze stayed trained on my face as she studied me. There was a look in her eyes that I couldn’t quite read. Her expression softened as she knit her eyebrows together. I wanted to believe that question meant more to her than it actually did.
Slowly, she began to nod. “Yes,” she whispered.
My heart took off galloping as I gently slid the ring onto her finger. Once it was snug at the base, I glanced back up at her. Her gaze was dark as she studied me. For a moment, I was frozen. The look in her eyes had pinned me in place. All that existed in this world was me and her.
For this moment, this meant something.
Her gaze focused and she pulled back. She blinked a few times as she glanced around. She pulled her hand from mine and brought it up to her chest, where she held it with her right hand.
The moment was over. I stood, unsure of what to say or where to look. This moment meant a lot to me—but it was apparent that it had only been a formality to her. We were fake-engaged. We were getting fake-married.
And I was the idiot who wanted nothing more than for this to be real.
“I should go get ready. Timothy is probably wondering where I am,” she whispered as she turned to the door that joined our rooms.
The tension in her body was palpable. It was like she was a wound-up spring ready to release at any second. If she wanted to go, then I would let her. The last thing I wanted was for her to stay where she didn’t want to be.
“Of course,” I said as I took a step back, pushing my hand through my hair before I scrubbed my face. “I need to jump in the shower, but I should be ready to go in fifteen.”
Emery peeked over at me before she nodded. “That works. I think Abigail said something about picking out a dress and a tux today.”
I nodded. “Perfect.”
She paused. “Okay. I’ll see you in thirty minutes? I take longer than fifteen.”
“That works.”
She held my gaze for a moment and then turned and hurried to her room. She shut the adjoining door, and I hesitated, waiting for the sound of the deadbolt engaging, but it never came.
I stared at the space that she’d vacated for longer than I cared to admit. My brain was swirling with thoughts, and yet I seemed incapable of processing any of them.
All I knew were three things:
One, Emery was wearing my ring. My ring.
Two, I was falling for her. Like, deep-in-my-soul falling for her. She was rapidly becoming the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I wanted to protect her and care for her like I’d never wanted to protect and care for someone before.
Three, to her, this was fake. I was a means to an end. At the end of these three years, she was going to walk away from me, and I would be left with a bleeding heart and broken soul. And even with that realization, I was going to stay to the bitter end.
I would stay until the day she asked me to leave.