“Okay,” I say, shaking my head. “Good. Glad we’re aligned.”
We start walking again, slower now.
He’s quiet for a second, like he’s sorting through something, then he says, “Can I ask you a question?”
I glance over. “Isn’t that what happens on dates?”
He ignores that. “When I was at your shop picking up the ring for Emma, you handed me the wrong box first,” he says. “You mentioned something about a bride who never got to wear that ring.”
I look down at my ice cream. “Yeah.”
“That story stuck with me, but also felt like there was more to it than what you said.” He watches me, careful but direct. “Is there?”
I let out a small breath before nodding. “Yeah,” I say softly. “There is.” I take another bite of my ice cream, mostly to buy myself a second. “It was mine.”
I don’t look at him yet. Just keep my focus on the sidewalk, on the rhythm of our steps.
“My engagement. My ring. My…almost wedding.” A quiet, humorless laugh escapes me. “Kind of ironic, actually.”
That’s when I glance up at him, lifting my cone slightly. “I mean, my favorite ice creamisrocky road.”
He looks at it. Then back at me with a sad smile playing on his lips. “Things are falling into place now,” he says.
I smile, too, but it’s more wistful now. A little more real.
“Yeah,” I agree. “It will.”
There’s a beat where neither of us moves. Then I spot a bench up ahead, tucked under a tree that’s doing its best impression of providing shade.
“Come on,” I say, tipping my head toward it. “If I’m going to tell the story, I feel like I should be sitting down for it.”
His brows lift slightly, but he follows without question.
We sit, a careful kind of not-too-close at first. The kind that lasts about three seconds before it naturally moves into something easier. I take another bite of my ice cream, buying myself a second.
“Okay,” I say. “So…Chris.”
Ty nods once, like he’s bracing for incoming information.
“There were so many red flags,” I start, glancing over at him. “Like, I just called you a red-flag guy over your ice cream choice?—”
“Rude,” he mutters.
“—but that’s nothing,” I continue. “Nothing in the grand scheme of things.”
He gestures for me to go on, like he’s invested now.
“The first one should have been when he introduced me to his entire family three weeks after we met,” I say. “And told them I was the love of his life.”
Ty blinks. “Three weeks.”
“Three weeks.”
He shakes his head. “And you were just like, yeah, this checks out?”
“Insta-love is a thing,” I say, nudging him with my elbow as I tilt my head. “In my defense, I was younger. And he was very convincing. Also, we were together for over a year when he proposed, so…”
“Mm-hm,” he says, like he’s filing that away.
