"Andrew, this is," she shakes her head, her hands covering her mouth. "This is… You can't give me this."
"No, you have to wear a ring, otherwise it won't look real."
"Where'd you get this?" she asks.
I take it out of the jewelry box and take hold of her left hand. "I just hope it fits," I tell her, slipping it on her left ring finger. My heart pounds as I do because I don't want this for pretend. I want this moment for real. I want her to be more than my fake fiancé. I want her to be my wife, my forever, my true angel for keeps.
Her eyes are fixed on the diamond, and then she's looking up at me and I swear to God there are tears in her eyes. But if there are, she blinks them away so damn fast. She won't let me in on whatever she's thinking, feeling.
"What?" I ask her.
"Nothing," she says. "It's just," she swallows, "the ring is beautiful. Makes a girl wish this wasn't all make-believe."
"Right," I say. "Well, it's for your grandma's Christmas present, right?"
She nods. "Right, of course. To make her Christmas dreams come true."
"And what about your dreams, Angel?" I ask. I slide the ring in place and it fits so damn perfect, like a glove, like a match made in heaven, like I had her ring sized on purpose. I didn't, but... it feels like it's fate.
"I think I'm really lucky to have you here with me right now."
"And if she asks how I proposed?" I ask Angel.
She exhales. "Well, I talk to Grandma a lot and I think she'd be surprised if all this time I never mentioned you. So it would have to be a spur of the moment thing."
"Right," I say, trying not to feel a little bruised over the idea that she hasn't been pining after me the same way I've been pining after her. My whole damn family has known about Angel for the two years I've been in love with her.
I run a hand through my hair. "Well, however you want to do it, I'll play along."
"Let's say that this last week we've been going out and it was an instant connection and you proposed when we went ice skating."
"Ice skating," I say with a laugh. "No way. You've never seen me on skates. My family won't buy it."
"Okay," Angel says, "good to know. Okay, how about you proposed in Pioneer Square? We went on a date in the market and we bought fish to take home to make a romantic dinner, and then you got down on one knee."
"With raw fish behind us?" I ask with a laugh.
She shrugs. "I don't know. It seems like a Seattle-type thing."
"That's true," I say. "All right. That's kind of romantic."
"And we went on the Ferris wheel afterwards," she adds. "We said screw the fish, let's go on the Ferris wheel. And then we got fish and chips after."
"I like that you're not super fancy," I tell her.
She laughs. "I'm not fancy. I'm pretty regular. I'm a go to the movies and get popcorn for Friday night dates kind of girl. I like hamburgers and the drive-in. I like baseball games in the summer and going to the fair in the fall. Corn mazes and pumpkin patches are my jam. And in the spring, I always want to go to the tulip festivals. What about you, Andrew? What's your story? What do you like? Please don't tell me you're some fancy snob who likes the complete opposite of me and is mortified at the idea of dates that involve choose-your-own adventures."
I grin. "No, Angel," I say, turning the car back on and getting back on the freeway so we can head to her grandma's house. "I fucking love everything you just said. In fact, it makes me think."
"What?" she says when I don't finish my sentence.
I shake my head. "It just makes me think that you're pretty special."
She smiles. "Oh, I'm special all right. So special that Allister didn't even want me in his fashion show for eating a piece of gingerbread."
"Screw Allister," Andrew says. "What do you want?"
"I want to make people feel good about themselves for being who they are. I wish I could be a model for an agency that was just promoting women being real, really themselves without faking it, without putting on a show. I'll never be that while I work for Allister."
I smile at her. "You're pretty fucking spectacular, Angel, you know that?"
She takes my hand, lacing her fingers with mine. "Look at that," she says. "It's not just the ring that fits, our hands fit together pretty good too." She looks up at me as I drive. "Turn right here," she says. "We're almost at Grandmother's house."
I try to take a deep breath. I don't want to screw this up. I don't want to say too much, tell Angel how I feel.