Surrender

“Sorry.” I refolded the napkin in my lap.

“What’s wrong?”

“This.” I held up the ring. “I can’t pretend I’m not surprised. Or disappointed. Or excited. I don’t know what to think. Or how to feel about it.” I stopped. “Yes, actually. Yes I do.” I glared at him. “I know exactly how I feel about this ring.”

“We can’t talk about this here,” he warned.

“What? No marital spats in public? Does that go against the rules?”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. I’ve had less than half a glass of wine. I’m not tipsy, I’m pissed. And I want to talk about it. No more secrets, right?” I taunted. “That’s what you keep saying. So let’s talk.”

“Not here,” he hissed. “I’ll pay for dinner. We can talk when we’re alone in the suite. I’ll tell them to cancel dessert and meet you at the front door.”

I pressed my lips together in a line. I wanted to get this off my chest. I had mustered the courage to share my feelings and I wanted them out. He stood abruptly and walked away from the table in search of our server.

The walk was silent.

As soon as the door closed to the room, I spun around. “Can I speak now?”

He walked to the bar to pour glasses of wine. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

I had lost some of my moxie, but I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it inside.

“This…this….ring,” I spat. “What in the hell did you do? You put an engagement ring and a wedding band on my finger.”

“Yes. I did.”

“And you asked me to be your wife. A temporary wife.”

“Yes.” He walked toward me with the wine. I yanked it angrily, sloshing the wine in the glass.

I drank. “Do you have any idea what this moment was supposed to be for me? Do you have any clue what it means to be engaged or married? To imagine what it would be like when you’re in love with someone and they want to spend the rest of their life with you. It’s supposed to be memorable. It’s supposed to be everything, Vaughn.” I finished off the wine. “Not an afterthought. Not a prop. Not a charade or a lie.” I wasn’t going to cry. I refused to let my anger turn into tears. “You stole that from me.”

I twisted the rings, trying to take them off my finger. Vaughn moved to stop me. I looked at him.

“Don’t take them off, Em.”

“Why not? They’re only part of your job. Isn’t that what you said? I only have to wear them when we’re in public. They don’t mean anything to you. I don’t need to wear them in the suite.”

He closed his eyes. “Yes, that’s true but I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

“Like what? Like you dropped snacks in my lap at the movie theater on your way to your seat? You put a diamond ring on my finger and you’ve acted all night like it was nothing.”

I trembled with fury. With frustration.

“I didn’t know it would hurt you. I didn’t think it would make you angry.”

“I hate them,” I seethed. “I hate these rings. I hate that you did this.”

I slumped on the couch. “What the hell is happening?” I covered my face with my hands. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I think you did.” He sat next to me, taking my hand in his.

“I’m not built like you.” I exhaled. “I’m just not.”

He nudged my chin toward his.