I reached for it carefully. Inside the band, in looping, old-world script, was an inscription:In death and in dreams. P.A. to L.W.Percival Ashbourne and Lenore Wetherell—my great-grandparents.
My breath hitched. Tears spilled freely down my cheeks.
It was perfect. A piece of my family’s legacy. The Carrington's and Ashbourne's etched into metal and stone. The kind of ring that sayswe are forever.That we’ll carry this legacy forward, together.
Donovan takes it gently from my fingers and slides it onto my left hand.
Vanessa and my mother are crying.
He wraps me in his arms, kissing away the tears I didn’t know were falling from my eyes.
I look down again. The ring is stunning. The perfect piece for the casket princess.
So why did it feel like it didn’t belong?
It sat heavily on my hand.
Maybe it was just the weight of something new.
That had to be it.
A few hours later, Ansel stumbles into the back door, giggling while she waves goodbye to Theo. I have never seen a wider smile on my happy friend's face. She turns around and sees everyone staring at her. “Nice of you to finally join us, right ontime for dinner.” I smirk at her. “Or are you full from the all-you-can-eat sausage buffet?” I laugh out loud.
Her face turns bright red, and all she can do is lift her pretty, pink, manicured hand and flip me off. “I’m starving; I worked up a major appetite today.”
We sit down for dinner, Donovan's family and mine, around our large dining room table. There has only ever been a handful of times this table has been filled like this.
My mom looks up from her plate and asks, “So, have you two talked at all about the wedding yet? You know we can always have it here at the house; there is plenty of space.” Donovan reaches over and grabs my hand before I dive into the details we had already planned out.
“Actually, Mom, we are having the wedding at a gorgeous beach in North Carolina, in the town of Devils Cove,” she says, setting her fork down with an almost disgusted look on her face. “What the hell is so special about a town called Devils Cove?”
Over the next hour, I showed her the pictures we took of the beach and the bar, and I described my dream wedding to her. The one that will take place next spring.
“Oh Stella, I am sorry I had any doubts about it; this will be perfect. Hopefully, you will let me tag along when you go dress shopping.” She is dabbing tears away from her face again. I have a feeling that tears will be flowing at every event leading up to this wedding.
“Of course, I was actually hoping you and Vanessa would fly out in a few weeks; there is a dress boutique I want to look at. Plus, manis and pedis are my treat.”
We arrive home late the next day, all of us exhausted from the events of the previous week. We walk into our dark apartment, and Ansel gasps, “Oh my god, we never got a damn Christmas tree.”
Christmas is just a few days away. I haven’t done any shopping or decorating.
“It’s okay, Ans. We have the next two weeks off from school. Let’s go out tomorrow, grab coffee, and get ourselves a tree.”
And we do just that. We spend the entire day out, laughing and enjoying the cold air. Coffee in hand, we make our way into the cutest Christmas tree lot.
We search for the perfect tree, wandering through the throng of people. Families pose with their adorable kids, all dressed in matching clothes. A couple takes selfies beside the first tree in the row, giggling like they’re the only two people in the world.
I look down at the street and push a rock around with the toe of my boot. “I wish we had invited Donovan along. I know it’s our apartment, but… we have to talk about what happens next, you know?” I glance over at Ansel, sadness in my eyes. “What happens next?”
“Look, Slaymuffin,” she says, bumping her shoulder against mine. “There isplentyof space if you want to move Donovan in. I think he’s a cool dude. He makes you happy. But I’m not willing to lose my bestie to a man—at least not yet.” She throws an arm around me in a side hug and keeps walking like she didn’t just say the sweetest thing in the world.
“Oh my god, Stell, this is the one.” I follow her gaze to a tree that’s leaning slightly to the left.
“See? It’s perfect. It leans a little and has its own opinions.”
I shake my head, amused, and point to the tree next to it. “Nowthisone is perfect. Full and dramatic, but not in an attention-seeking kind of way. It’ll hold all of your ridiculous decorations.”
We wave the attendant down, and they carefully wrap the tree and place a tag with our name on it.
