I can’t marry her tomorrow while pretending this is all fake. I can’t stand up in front of everyone we know and promise to love her forever without her knowing that I mean every word.
“Here we are,” David says, presenting the ring in its small velvet box. “I have to say, this is the most romantic thing I’ve seen in twenty years of selling engagement rings.”
The ring is even more beautiful than I remembered. The oval diamond catches the store’s lighting perfectly, and the twisted band has an organic elegance that’s pure Freya. She fell in love with this ring the moment she saw it, and I had my head too focused on business to really understand what that meant.
“She’s going to love it,” David continues as he processes my payment. “I could tell when she first tried it on that it was meant to be hers.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m standing outside Freya’s apartment building with the ring box in my pocket and my heart hammering against my ribs. I haven’t called or texted to let her know I’m coming. I have no idea what I’m going to say beyond the truth I should have told her years ago.
I buzz her apartment number and wait, bouncing on my feet with nervous energy.
“Hello?” Her voice comes through the intercom, sounding tired.
“Freya, it’s me. Can I come up? I need to talk to you.”
There’s a long pause. “Ben, it’s late. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“No, it can’t. Please. This is important.”
Another pause, then the buzzer sounds to let me in.
I take the stairs two at a time, too anxious to wait for the elevator. By the time I reach her floor, I’m breathing hard again, though whether from exertion or nerves, I can’t tell.
Freya opens her apartment door before I can knock. She’s wearing pajama pants and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looks beautiful and comfortable and slightly wary.
“What’s so important that it couldn’t wait twelve hours?” she asks, stepping aside to let me in.
For a moment, I just look at her. This woman who has been the most constant presence in my life for fifteen years. This womanwho knows me better than anyone else in the world. This woman I’m about to risk everything for.
“I was writing my vows,” I say finally.
“Okay. And?”
“And I realized that everything I was writing was true. Not fake, not performance, not part of our arrangement. True.”
Freya goes very still. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I love you, Freya. I’m completely, hopelessly, devastatingly in love with you, and I have been for years.”
She stares at me like I’ve just told her I’m an alien from Mars.
“I know this is terrible timing,” I continue, the words rushing out now that I’ve started. “I know we have a wedding tomorrow that we’ve both been treating as fake, and I know this complicates everything. But I can’t marry you without you knowing how I feel.”
“Ben…”
“I should have told you years ago. I should have been brave enough to risk our friendship for the chance at something more. I should have kissed you the other night instead of pulling away like a coward.”
“You pulled away because of our agreement.”
“I pulled away because I was terrified. Because I’ve been in love with you since we were seventeen years old, and I was too afraid to admit it even to myself.”
Freya sinks onto her couch, looking stunned. “You’re in love with me?”
“Completely. Utterly. The kind of love that makes you want to be a better person, the kind that makes everything else in life make sense.” I move to kneel in front of her, pulling the ring box from my pocket. “I know this is crazy. I know you might not feel the same way. But I had to tell you before tomorrow.”
I open the ring box, revealing the oval diamond she fell in love with months ago.
“Freya Hull, I’m not asking you to marry me for business or publicity or any other practical reason. I’m asking you to marry me because I love you. Because I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Because I can’t imagine a future without you in it.”
