Suddenly, Berlin glittered in a way I hadn't noticed before. It was still broken, still gray, still coughing dust into the sky… but it felt different. Lighter. Hopeful. Because I had a future now. A direction. A plan.
I stopped by the bank and withdrew a large amount of money. I wasn't going to go cheap on this ring. Then I spent thirty minutes hunting down a jeweler in the American sector, a store with glass so clean it looked like magic and chrome fittings that caught the sunlight in sharp, white flares. I pushed open the door, and a bell chimed with a soft, polite note that felt strangely out of place in Berlin. Inside, the air smelled faintly of polish and lemon, and the display cases glowed under warm electric lamps. For a moment, I forgot the rubble outside. The hunger. The tension. The Russians.
In here, the world was intact.
The jeweler appeared from the back room like he'd been conjured, gray hair slicked, mustache neatly trimmed, suit pressed to perfection. He looked old enough to have lived through three wars and stubborn enough to survive a fourth.
"Guten Tag," he said. "How may I assist you, Captain?"
"I'm looking for an engagement ring," I said, feeling the words strike somewhere deep in my chest. "A good one."
His eyes sharpened. "For a German girl?"
"Yes."
He studied me for a moment, as if measuring not just my rank, but my intentions. Then he nodded once and motioned me toward the far counter.
"You will want something… traditional. Not ostentatious." He lowered his voice. "But meaningful."
I followed him to a case separate from the others, its contents hidden beneath a velvet drape. When he lifted the cloth, light struck gold. There were rings, dozens of them. But my gaze went to one immediately.
A ring that didn't shine, it glowed.
The jeweler noticed. "Ah," he murmured, "that one is… special."
It was gold, warm and soft in color, shaped into delicate vines and leaves that curled protectively around a round-cut diamond. The design wasn't modern; it was timeless. Almost mythic. Like something a forest spirit might wear.
Two tiny diamonds flanked the center stone like droplets of morning dew. I swallowed.
"That center stone," the jeweler said quietly, "is just over one carat. Very rare these days."
I reached out, barely letting my fingertips brush the band. Heat sparked from the metal straight into my ribcage, settling somewhere dangerously close to my heart.
"It's perfect," I said.
"It is exquisite," he replied. "A piece like this... it speaks of devotion. Of choosing someone fully."
Exactly how I felt. I lifted the ring carefully, feeling its weight, not heavy, just enough to mean something. Would she even believe this was for her? Would she accept it? Would she cry? Would she smile?
God, I hoped so.
"Is this the one you want, Captain?" the jeweler asked gently.
"If it doesn't fit," I swallowed. It had to fit; it just had to. It was her. Perfect.
"Then bring it back here, and I'll resize it, for free." The man smiled warmly.
I nodded, determined. "Yes. That's the one."
He closed the box gently andslid it toward me on the counter. "The price is… ah." He hesitated. "Let us say it is not inexpensive. One thousand dollars, Captain."
I didn't blink. If he was watching my face for shock, I didn't give him any. I had been prepared to pay a lot more for the ring. I pulled my billfold from my inner pocket and placed crisp bills—American bills—on the counter.
The jeweler's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. No German civilian had seen that much money in one place since the war began. Most Americans hadn't either.
He cleared his throat. "You… pay in full?"
"Yes," I said. "In full."
