The room erupted.
I looked at Sloane. On her feet, clapping harder than anyone, tears streaming down her face.
Just like she'd promised.
She mouthed the words clearly this time.
I love you.
I mouthed them back.
That night, after the ceremony, after the handshakes and the photographs, I lay awake in bed.
Sloane was asleep beside me. Curled on her side. One hand tucked under her pillow. Moonlight catching her face, the sharp cheekbones, the soft curve of her mouth.
I thought about the ring.
It was in my locker at the station, hidden in the back corner behind my extra shirt. The same ring I'd given her years ago.
Keep it, she'd said.For when we're ready.
I'd been thinking about it for weeks. It was perfect, for who we'd been then.
But we weren't those people anymore.
Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow I'd talk to Brian. He'd upgraded his ring for Ava at a jeweler in Astoria. The same woman who'd sold him Carmen's ring years ago, who'd helped him trade it in for something that actually fit the woman he was meant to be with.
Maybe she could help me too.
The shop was smaller than I expected. Tucked between a bakery and a dry cleaner, the kind of place you'd walk past a hundred times without noticing. But Brian swore by it, and Brian had good taste when it mattered.
The woman behind the counter was older, her hair more gray than brown, with sharp eyes that assessed me the moment I walked in.
"Another firefighter." She glanced at Brian. "You boys travel in packs?"
Brian grinned. "My friend here wants to upgrade a ring."
I set the velvet box on the counter. Opened it. The modest diamond caught the light. Small and simple and full of memories.
The jeweler picked up the ring. Examined it with a practiced eye. "Good stone. Clean cut." She looked up at me. "Tell me the story."
"The story?"
"Every ring has one. If you want me to help you transform it into something meaningful, I need to know what it means." She set the ring down gently. "So. Tell me."
I glanced at Brian. He nodded.
"I bought this ring years ago. Gave it to the woman I loved." I paused. "We were supposed to get married. We fell apart."
The jeweler waited. Patient. Like she had all the time in the world.
"She came back," I continued. "After eight years. We found our way back to each other. She returned the ring to me a few weeks ago. Told me to keep it for when we're ready." Iswallowed. "I want to ask her again. But I want it to mean something different this time. Something more."
"Tell me about her. About what you survived."
I thought about Sloane. About everything we'd been through. The miscarriage that had broken us apart. The years of silence. The fire that had almost taken her from me forever. The way she'd walked back into my life and made me remember what it felt like to be whole.
"We lost eight years. But we found each other again." I looked at the ring on the counter. "I want it to reflect that. The past. The present. The future."
