now, and his neck was blushing purple as a summer grape.
“James, I . . .” she began, but when she got lost for an answer, he stepped in.
“It’s okay. I don’t expect you to deny it, and if the truth be known I don’t want you to either. Your father pushed us together, and I understand your hesitations. And I’ll be quite honest with you, Lizzy, I went along with meeting you to please him in the first instance. It was important for me to impress him, and if meeting his young daughter did that, then I was game.” A memory of that first dinner stirred, his smart suit the color of sand, and how impressed by him she had been. Every word of his stories felt wild and exciting as they dripped from his tongue, languid and sanguine and exotic. But it had never crossed her mind that they were being pushed together. How naive she was then, how silly. “I assumed I might take you out and that we would laugh together about how we had been set up and call it a day. But his daughter turned out to be you, and I felt things for you that I couldn’t ignore. And I knew then I could spend my life with you, Lizzy, if only you would give me a chance.”
The guilt she had felt on the journey there had receded, but in its place came a sense of sadness. Why would he want this for himself? He knew that she didn’t love him, yet still he pursued this marriage. She had always assumed that he wanted her so that he could access her father’s teaching and patients, but now that she knew he really did love her, how could he accept knowing that she didn’t feel the same way? Was there anything worse than to love and not be loved in return?
“Why do you even want to marry me?”
“Because I know in time you will grow to love me, Lizzy.” He shuffled closer still, reached into his pocket. “I’m not sure how long it might take, but I’m asking you to take pity on a good man, Lizzy, and give him a chance. I accept your current feelings, both for me and perhaps those you harbor for another, in the certainty that in time you will learn that to love me is the right thing.” Was he telling her that he knew about Tom? That he knew and still wanted her? “We forget what it means to face consequences, or struggle, or even the existence of hardship when we feel love. But I promise you that love alone is never enough. I trust one day you will see that and be happy with your choice to marry me. I will always support you and will provide all that you need.”
His words left her speechless, and before she could protest, he produced a small black velvet box from his pocket. The wind had picked up, yet she noticed his brow had started to sweat, wetting the roots of his floppy hair. He carefully opened the lid to reveal a Deco-style ring, a solitaire set in a gallery of smaller stones. The ring itself was etched and engraved all the way down the sides. He took it from the box, carefully as one might handle an insect worth saving.
“I wanted to wait, wanted it to be a special moment, one in which you truly knew how I felt about you. I believe that is now.” His gaze flicked to the ring. “It’s from the twenties, belonged to my grandmother.” He didn’t try to place it on her finger, instead handed it over, setting it in her palm. “As soon as I got the car yesterday, I went to collect it. Now it belongs with you, just as you belong with me.”
A lot of what he said seemed reasonable enough, and there was no doubt that a lifetime with James would see her well provided for. But while James claimed that love could never suffice, neither could mediocrity. It wasn’t enough to be satisfied, when she knew there was a greater prize to be claimed. How could she settle for companionship when she knew the beauty of love, the sweet, unique taste of it? Love wouldn’t fade because life got hard. It existed in a place beyond such complications. Love was a type of magic; it wasn’t sleight of hand or trickery like some performers exhibited, but a mystery