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“What is that?”
“Library.”
Her head snaps toward me. “Ryder.”
“Floor-to-ceiling shelves. Window seat. Whatever weird ladder thing you wanted.”
“I mentioned that once.”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes fill.
Fuck.
“No.”
She laughs. “No what?”
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m happy.”
“Still don’t like it.”
She looks back at the plans. “And the garage?”
“Mine.”
“Ours.”
“No.”
“You just gave a speech about this being our house.”
“Fine. You can have a shelf.”
“In my own garage?”
“Two shelves.”
She laughs through her tears.
Better.
I reach into my pocket.
Her laughter stops. “Oh my God.”
“Don’t make this weird.”
“You have a ring.”
“Observant.”
“Ryder.”
I take her left hand.
