“No. I just kept forgetting.” I stuff my hand into a small zipped pocket of my bag and bring out two gold rings. They’re both simple and elegant, and they glint as they lie on my palm. “Do you mind putting this on?”
He stares down at the rings for a few seconds too long. His blue-green eyes are strangely deep.
“Is that okay?” I ask hurriedly, wondering if I’ve done something wrong, although I can’t imagine what it might be. This was always our agreement. “I’ve just been thinking that if this were real, I’d be getting married about now. In a low-key way that wouldn’t make a big production and early enough to not interfere with my mom’s wedding. I could do it afterward, but then everyone would expect to be involved, and that would be very awkward. So this way it’s more like we just did it ourselves, so it’s now a done deal and no one can... can wonder about it.” I gulp, wondering what possessed me to ramble on like that.
“Yes. That makes sense,” Damian says softly. Slowly.
“So do you mind wearing the ring? I’ll explain everything to them. You’ll just need to go along with it.”
“Sure. Of course.”
When he still doesn’t move, I start to get impatient. I jam the smaller ring on my finger and then thrust the other one in Damian’s direction.
He puts it on his ring finger carefully, as if it might break.
“Does it fit?” I’d asked for his ring size a few weeks ago, so I have no reason not to expect the ring to fit. But he’s acting weird. Like I took him by surprise in this.
It’s making me jittery.
“Yes.” He stares down at the gold band on his left hand. “It fits just right.”
“Okay. Good. So let’s say we got married at the courthouse on Wednesday. No fuss. No friends or family there. We just woke up that morning and decided we wanted to do it.”
“Sounds good.” He clears his throat, glancing down a couple more times at the ring on his finger and once over at mine. “I assume you’ll be keeping your last name? I mean, you don’t want to pretend to be Mrs. Winters, right?”
“Right. I’m staying Clarke.”
“Clarke it is.” He smiles at me, finally relaxing from whatever had affected him. “I like the rings.”
“Do you?” I really shouldn’t be so pleased by the simple compliment. “I just picked something out.”
“They’re perfect.”
“Oh. Okay. Good.”
That’s just about enough of this. I open the car door. “Okay. I’ll text and let you know what’s going on and where to meet me later. I think my mom wants us to have dinner with her and Pop tonight, and then tomorrow I’m not sure until Sunday supper.”
“Got it. No problem. I’m at your service in all things.”
The last sentence is obviously teasing, but it still makes me blush.
I really wish Damian wasn’t capable of doing that.
THE WEDDING SHOWER is lovely and pleasant—and fortunately not overly large. Being so established in her life and with both her and Pop already having fully stocked kitchens, my mom doesn’t need a lot of basics or practical tools, so most of us gave her fun or pretty kitchen items like the set of crystal stemware etched with flowers I bought her.
She seems to have a wonderful time and suggests we take her gifts back to Pop’s place afterward rather than transporting them to her apartment and then again over to Pop’s in several weeks.
We end up staying at Pop’s—having tea out on the patio—and I text Damian that he can come over whenever he’s ready, but there’s no hurry since we’re just hanging out until dinner.
He must have left the coffee shop as soon as I texted because he arrives twenty minutes later, looking way too handsome and appropriate for any occasion in his tan trousers and black button-down.
My mother makes him tea, and then she interrogates us for an hour about our wedding ceremony and why we didn’t include any family. Since I expected this reaction, I’m ready for it. Damian leaves most of the talking to me, jumping in now and then to smooth over my occasional hesitations.
By the time Pop arrives from whatever he’s been doing this afternoon, my mother is settled in the knowledge that I’ve gotten married, and she seems neither surprised nor offended that I would have done it without her.
She knows me. And if I were marrying for real, there’s a good chance I would have done