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“I know whatever it is, it’ll be amazing.” I hoped that would help reduce whatever had him nervous.

We locked up the shop and headed back across the yard.

Inside, I made a beeline to the calendar. Twenty-five small drawers in the shape of a tree. We’d built it in November, so we’d have a reason to surprise each other every day in December.

I pulled the last drawer.

A ring sat in a bed of red and green tissue paper.

I don’t know how long I looked before I picked it up. Cherry, with a thin line of walnut running the whole way around. I turned it, looking for the place the two ends of the walnut met. I couldn’t find it. He’d joined it so clean there was no seam.

Then I found the mark. Inside the band, where it would never show. No bigger than a grain of rice, every line still clean. The same joined knot and grain as the shop door and the serving pieces.

“How did you even—” I held it up to the light. “That’s inside the band. How did you get it in there and keep it legible?”

“Carefully.”

He took my free hand in both of his. He was shaking, which I had never once seen from him. In a year, I’d rarely heard him ask anybody for anything other than to maybe pass him a tool or keep him company. I’d had to catch him asleep on a concrete floor to learn he needed a bed.

“I’m not good at this part,” he said. “I’d rather build a thing than ask for one. You know that.” He turned my hand over in his. “So I built the thing to do the asking. Jake Sullivan. Will you marry⁠—”

“Yes.”

“—me.” He stopped. “Did you say yes?”

“I said yes.” I was already working the ring onto my finger. Of course it fit. He’s a professional, and he’s known my hands for a year. “Yes. All of it. Yes.”

“The cherry’s from the table,” he said, because he had to get the facts out now that the hard part was behind him. “The first thing we built. The walnut’s the bed. The most personal thing. It seemed right to use both.”

“That’s why you kept those offcuts. Now it makes sense. I can’t imagine how long this took. It’s so small and precise.”

“It’s the smallest thing I’ve ever done. I started in August. Right after we finished in here. I wanted to make sure I had the time to get it right.”

I stood in front of him with his ring on my finger.

“I was at Tommy’s making you a present.”

“And I was across town, trying to make something special to give you.”

I gazed at the ring again. “We need to get you one. Maybe I can⁠—”

He drew another deep breath that he let out slow. “I might have made two, hoping you’d say yes.” He opened the first drawer of the calendar and pulled out a matching ring. “I figured day one was a safe place to put it since we wouldn’t open that today.”

He was about to put the ring on, but I stopped him. “Let me.”

I held out my hand, and he placed the ring on my palm.

“I love you so much, Nico Stolyarov,” I said as I took his hand and slid the ring on. “This has been the best year. Can’t wait to see what the next one brings.”

He took my left hand in his left and held them so we could see both rings. “Me too. I know it’ll be great because we’ll be together.” He leaned in for more kisses. “Let’s head upstairs. Anything else that needs to be cleaned up can wait.”

My only answer was to nod and lead us out of the kitchen, turning the lights off as we headed for the stairs.

Everything else we’d made had its place in this house. The table. The bed. The bookshelf. The bench out in the shop. You had to go to them.

The rings came with us.

By our fiftieth anniversary that mark would be worn smooth on the inside of the band. I’d still know its exact place with my thumb.