I had found the one ten minutes later.
Oval center stone. Delicate but not fragile. Tiny hidden pink stones under the gallery where only Bliss would notice them. A band that looked classic from far away and a little dramatic up close.
Like her.
Charm had cried, then pretended she had allergies.
Ryan had looked at the ring, then at me, and said quietly, “That’s her.”
I had bought it immediately.
Asking Daniel Bennett for his blessing had been worse than getting stabbed.
Less blood, somehow more sweating.
He had met me at his house two weeks ago because I refused to ask him over the phone like a coward. Bliss had been at lunch with Aura and Charm, completely unaware Ryan was tracking her location like a professional criminal under strict instructions to keep her away from the Bennett house until I got through the conversation.
Daniel had sat across from me at his kitchen table with his hands folded and his eyes already wet, which had felt wildly unfair.
I had expected threats. A lecture. Maybe one of those father-of-the-bride speeches where he made it clear he could hide my body in a fire station and no one would ask questions.
Instead, he had listened.
To all of it.
To me telling him I loved his daughter more than hockey, more than the future everyone kept trying to hand me, more than the version of myself I used to think I had to become. To me telling him I would spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of the trust she kept giving me even when life had taught her not to. To me telling him I knew I was young, and she was young, and no, we were not getting married tomorrow, but I wanted her to know now that every future I could imagine had her name written straight through it.
Daniel had let me finish, then sat there so long I thought he might actually kill me after all.
Finally, he said, “You already answered the only question I had, son.”
I had not asked what he meant.
I knew.
He had given me his blessing.
Now Daniel stood near the balcony doors with my father, both of them holding glasses of scotch and talking like men who had somehow become friends through fear, grief, and shared devotion to the same blonde menace. My mother stood beside Bliss with one arm linked through hers, laughing at something Charm said. Aura and Easton were near the windows, pretending they were not standing close enough to share oxygen. Briggs was terrorizing the appetizer table. Rider looked like he regretted every choice that led him to loving this group of people. Ryan watched me from across the room and lifted his brows slightly.
He knew.
Ryan always knew.
So did Charm.
So did Daniel.
So did my parents.
Aura had the marble.
Not because she had made it.
That was mine.
I had gone to the art department myself once I was strong enough to make it across campus without Bliss threatening to sedate me emotionally. Aura had helped me get the name of the right professor, and she had kept Bliss distracted the first afternoon I disappeared, but I had done the work. I had sat in a studio that smelled like paint, clay, kiln heat, and college panic while a senior art student walked me through the process with the patience of someone who had clearly been warned by Aura Clarke not to fuck it up.
Black glass.
