He chuckled as he reached in his pocket and set a small black box on the table. “I stand corrected.”

I set my wine down. A nervous thrill shot through my body. “What do we have here?”

“Open it and find out.”

My satisfied smile was as close to genuine as it came for me. Red manicured nails glistened in the soft light as I reached for the box, held it in the palm of my hand, and then slowly opened it.

Inside was a solitaire diamond set in white gold. It was a decent size, but the setting was plain to the point of old-fashioned. I wondered if he’d put a lot of thought into choosing the ring. Or if it had been recycled from a mother or grandmother. If he knew anything about me, he’d know I preferred yellow gold. Bigger diamonds. And nothing that any other woman had ever worn. “It’s lovely.”

“It belonged to my mother.”

Ah, a family heirloom that meant something to him. Great, more past invading the future. He took the box and removed the ring. Automatically, I held out my hand and watched as he slid it on my ring finger.

It sparkled in the light as if hoping it could dazzle me into acceptance. “And is there a question that goes along with this ring?”

He held my hand. “Brit, will you marry me?”

Of course I would. He fit nicely into my life, and even though this ring didn’t exactly suit my tastes, I could work with it. “Yes.”

He leaned forward and kissed me. “Really?”

Arching a brow, I touched his face. “Have you ever known me not to speak my mind?”

He grinned and kissed me on the lips again. “No, I’ve not.”

I rolled the words engaged and fiancé over in my mind. Neither felt right, like a new pair of shoes that pinched, but in time, the words would stretch and mold to fit.

Marisa likely wouldn’t care one way or the other about this momentous moment. I’d ask her to be my maid of honor, seeing as she was the lone surviving sister. Given a choice, I’d have chosen Clare, who’d always been my favorite. If the universe had ever really screwed up, it was taking the wrong twin.

“Those lips are pursing again.” His eyes were hawkish. “Doubts?”

“Just working through the logistics of a wedding. You know me.” I smiled. “Have to have all my ducks in a row.”

“I’m sure Marisa will help. She’s been to enough weddings to know what works and doesn’t. Who knows, she might be willing to take our engagement pictures. Of course, we couldn’t ask her to do the wedding. She’ll be in it.”

Like it or not, I was stuck with Marisa.

41 MARISA

41

MARISA

Saturday, March 19, 2022

7:00 a.m.