I know Sophie gave him the ring as a gift on the house (because if he pays the full $45,000 for it, and the engagement goes south, New York state law says I could be legally required to return it to him—and that’s a risk I don’t want to take). At times, I even catch myself in a sheer panic because my ring finger is bare. Then, of course, I remember that I didn’t lose the ring, but rather, I took it off on purpose. I really thought he would pop the question in Massachusetts, but the long weekend has come and gone.

I’ve only been waiting for six days, but the time is starting to gnaw at me. It’s given me enough time to reconsider if all this—an engagement, a wedding, Blake—is what I really want. If I go through with it, I’m making a choice to irrevocably intertwine my personal life with my business and my livelihood. I can’t take that back. Blake and I will be linked, romantically, financially, publicly, and that means opening up our relationship to scrutiny. My ruse could be exposed. But I can so easily envision the highlight reel of our lives together: first, a gorgeous wedding, then a generous spike in Brooklyn Jewels’s sales that leads to a healthy bank account balance, and ultimately, the kind of soul-affirming love that can sustain the shared life of a marriage. If I truly let my imagination run, I can see us spending weekend mornings in bed with our laptops, each happily working on our businesses; I can see us sunbathing on his rooftop on summer afternoons; I can see the two of us eating stir-fry with Sophie and Liv and maybe their baby someday. But once I let people in to see all that, I can’t take it back. I can’t guarantee a happy ending. If we go public and then fizzle, it would be ruinous. Personally, it’d be mortifying. But professionally, it could be disastrous, too. All my new customers and followers who gush over our relationship could leave me cold.

I don’t have to go through with it. I could say no to Blake’s proposal. I could push away the wedding planning, cancel the splashy party at the Wythe Hotel, return the glitzy dress. Maybe that’s the logical decision. The safe choice. But the prospect of shutting all that down makes me feel lost and lonely. After building up the idea in my head all spring and summer, I don’t know how to pivot away from it. I would be so sad to lose Blake. And now that I’m hinging on an influx of business to keep the shop afloat, I’m too far gone. I have to go through with my plan or else.