Still, he hoped she said yes because one day, he desperately wanted to call her his wife.
Dionysus lingered behind as they started down the path, checking his pocket for the ring. It was something he’d done sporadically since he’d purchased it, a way to give himself some peace-of-mind.
Except this time, it wasn’t there.
That panicky feeling returned, but different now. It wasn’t born out of anticipation or excitement. This felt like losing control.
He checked his pocket again, though he knew it was futile. There was no chance he’d miss the box.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Di,” Ariadne called. His gaze snapped to hers. “Are you coming?”
He wanted to, with all his heart. She was so beautiful, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. He never thought they would be here, living in this moment, but she had made that possible. Words could not communicate the depth of his gratitude which is why he needed to find that ring.
“I have to make a call,” he said, holding up his phone. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”
Her smile faltered and guilt churned in his stomach. He felt like he was disappointing her and Acamus, having promised an evening of family fun. Part of him wanted to race forward and kiss her, reassure her he wasn’t running or abandoning them, but Ariadne nodded. He watched as she turned, jogging to catch up with Medusa and Acamus before retracing his steps to the hot chocolate stand.
“Back again?” the man at the window asked, chuckling. He was jolly, like his greatest joy was standing in this little cabin selling cocoa. “I might have to cut you off.”
Dionysus offered an awkward laugh. “Actually, I was wondering if anyone had turned in a black box?”
He hesitated to say it was a ring. Knowing his luck, the shop owner would tell everyone within a twenty-mile radius what he was looking for, and Ariadne would find out he was planning to propose before he had the chance to ask.
“No, no black boxes,” said the man. “What did it look like again?”
“It was just black,” Dionysus said, not sure how else to describe a black box in any more detail than that. “And small.”
“No, I’ve not seen nothing like that,” he said. “I can ask Suzanne when she’s back from break.”
Dionysus started to thank him and leave when he said, “Hold on, before you go, let me write this down.”
“What could you possibly need to—” he started to say but stopped himself.
He means well, he heard Ariadne’s voice in his head.
He took a breath.
“It is a black box,” Dionysus said, the words slipping between gritted teeth.
“A…black…box,” the man repeated as he wrote with slow, deliberate strokes. “About how big, did you say?”
Dionysus made a square with his fingers and watched as the man attempted to copy the size onto his pad of paper.
“Is it jewelry?” The man looked up, meeting Dionysus’s gaze.
“Can you just contact me if you find it?” Dionysus said, offering a phone number he could text. With that, he departed for the ice rink, frustration compounded by how long he’d been delayed. In that time, anyone could have found the ring and pocketed it, a free and stunning Christmas gift for a mortal who was not Ariadne.
He rushed to the rink but saw nothing on the ice or by the benches where he’d put on his skates. The attendant at the counter was far less interested than the cocoa man, giving a flat “no” when Dionysus inquired about anyone turning in a black box.
“Can you let me know if someone does turn one in?”
“No,” she said.
Dionysus’s eyes narrowed. The urge to call on his magic surged. He was a second away from summoning his thyrsus.
“What did you say?” he asked, voice dark with the promise of revenge.
