“You don’t want to look around?” he asks tentatively. “Don’t you need to, like, make sure they match your bridesmaids’ dresses or fit with the vibe of the venue?”

I can’t help but laugh a little bit.

“Come on, I’ve seen my brother and all my cousins and some friends get married. I get how this works,” he says.

“They’re perfect. I want you involved in making these decisions, too. I love you.”

He beams. I can figure out how to get my hands on those centerpieces later.

By the time Blake and I consider getting out of bed the next morning, it’s nearly noon. Truthfully, I could lounge under the covers with him forever. Our luxuriously lazy mornings in bed are one of my favorite parts of our relationship. Together, we could spoon while debating brunch delivery options for hours. But the moment he grabs my hand and admires the way my ring sparkles, I snap out of my sleepy, sex-addled, sun-drenched reverie. I don’t have time to waste: if my plan is going to work, I have to set it into motion today.

“I’m glad Sophie told me to go with this one,” he says, tilting my hand so the diamonds catch the light. “It’s an impressive piece.”

I flex my hand and try to see the ring through fresh eyes, the way he does. “Yeah, it’s amazing,” I say, kissing his cheek.

I reach for my phone on the nightstand and pretend to scroll through my notifications. He grabs his from the other side.

“Wow, okay, so I got an update from the hotel,” I say finally.

He looks up from his screen. “Yeah?”

“They’re available almost two years from now, or . . . they had a cancellation, so they have one date randomly open next month. October nineteenth,” I offer.

“So, maybe we go somewhere else, then,” he says, returning his attention to his phone.

I try not to panic. I double-check today’s date on my phone. It’s September fifteenth. The wedding is approaching so soon, I can practically count the days. If I can’t get Blake on board with an October nineteenth wedding at the Wythe Hotel, there won’t be any wedding. At least not on this accelerated timeline. For the first time, I dare to think past October, and I can imagine a scenario in which I have Blake, no wedding, plummeting sales, and eventually, no more Brooklyn Jewels. Would Blake care? If my ambition and drive and success are what attracted him to me in the first place, would he even still want me as a floundering failure? Without the hook of a wedding to spike sales, why bother getting married so soon anyway?

I clear my throat. I have his attention again.