“Show me, then,” I demand. And he does. His lips meet mine in a kiss at once passionate and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to kiss me in any way he wants.

When he pulls away, he laces his fingers through mine and leads me back into his condo where we spend the rest of the night showing each other how we feel, over and over again.

Chapter 31

Ryan

I lie awake long after Scarlett has fallen asleep. Her dark hair is splayed out on the pillow, and her face is peaceful. Maybe more peaceful than I’ve ever seen it.

Her hand is resting on my chest, and I bring it to my lips to kiss her fingers before laying it gently next to her so I can get up. The rhythmic rising and falling of her back doesn’t change, which tells me she’s deeply asleep. As quietly as I can, I tiptoe over to my dresser and slide the top drawer open. Using my phone as a light, I rummage under the clothes until I find the small box I’m looking for. I take it with me out into the living room, closing the bedroom door behind me so I can turn on a light and sit on the couch.

The box is a soft, navy velvet that has been worn down over the years. I haven’t taken it out to look at it in a while—not since I got my tattoo, actually—but this box has been well loved, first by my parents, then by me. I used to hold it all the time even though I’d never open it. I haven’t opened it in five years.

My hands almost dwarf it, and my fingers shake slightly as I take a deep breath and crack it open. The hinge squeaks and pops open to reveal a ring. The band is gold and flares where it meets a single, small diamond solitaire. It was my mother’s ring. My dad had bought it for her on a limited budget. To hear her tell it, he always said he’d get her a new one—a better one—but she wouldn’t have it. “This is my ring,” she’d say, and that was that.

I use my thumb to spin his matching gold band around on my middle finger. His hands were always so much bigger than mine. Where he was bulky and solid, I was always thin and spindly. When he gave it to me before he died, it slid right off my finger. I wore it on a chain on my neck until I was an adult. Even now, I have to wear it on my middle finger.

My mom gave me her ring years after he died. She said she wanted me to have it just in case I ever met a woman I loved as much as my dad loved her.