“Feels like you are.”
I pull the velvet box from my pocket. Her breath catches and the world narrows.
I hold it in my palm for a second before flipping it open.
The ring catches the sunrise, gold and simple, a small diamond set cleanly at the center.
She stares at it.
“What is that?” she whispers, even though she knows.
“I bought this when we were eighteen.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “You what?”
“I was going to give it to you the night before you left.”
She steps closer, disbelief written all over her face. “You never said anything.”
“I didn’t.”
“Why?”
I swallow. “Because I realized if I handed it to you, you might stay.”
“And that’s bad?”
“It would’ve been wrong.”
Her voice tightens. “You thought I’d stay out of obligation?”
“I thought you might choose me instead of yourself.”
She studies me like she’s trying to see eighteen-year-old me standing here.
“I didn’t want to trap your dreams,” I continue. “I didn’t want you looking back in ten years and wondering who you could’ve been.”
Her eyes glisten slightly. “So you just… kept it?”
“I kept it,” I admit. “Hoping you’d come back.”
The mountains glow brighter behind her. The light hits her hair, turning it gold.
“And if I hadn’t?” she asks.
“I would’ve kept it anyway.”
Her breath trembles. “You idiot.”
“Probably.”
She steps closer until she’s right in front of me. “You should’ve told me.”
“I know.”
“You should’ve fought.”
“I’m fighting now.”
