He reached into the inside pocket of his coat, holding out four rings a moment later. She leaned forward and picked them up one at a time, examining each in turn. All four were polished metal—the design work on them reminiscent of the sculpture she’d seen earlier this afternoon. As she looked at them, she realized they were actually two matching sets, not four different rings. One set seemed to have little metal flames flowing through the metal, and the other had a design reminiscent of a forest of pine trees.

“Oh, wow, Stuart. They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“These are your wedding rings?”

“Yes. Jai put me in charge of getting them, and I thought, ‘Hey. I work with metal. Why not make them?’ Of course it was harder than I thought, and I only finished today, with a lot of help from my friend who does jewelry. But now I can’t decide. Which ones do you like better—the fire or the trees?”

“Gosh. I don’t know. They’re both gorgeous.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I want to hear. I want you to tell me which ones my husband and I should wear for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, is that all?” she said with a laugh.

“Yes.”

She considered the options for a solid minute, the fire bands in her left hand, the pine trees in her right. Both had their merits, and both were, as she’d said, stunning. Still, as she considered what they’d represent, and why they mattered, it was suddenly no question. While what she’d seen of Stuart and Jai’s love was a quiet affair, comfortable, demonstrative without being over the top, at least on the outside, she knew Stuart, and she knew what she herself wanted in a relationship, and that kind of passion always had heat.

“Do one of each,” she said holding them out. “I think you should be the fire, though.”

He took them. “Yeah? Why?”

“Now you’re questioning my choice?”

He held up his hands and laughed. “Nope, nope! You’re right. I asked, you told, and that’s the end of it.”

They stood there staring at the rings in his palm, and her eyes teared up when she saw his lip quivering. She put her hand over his and the rings, and he squeezed it into a fist.

“I’m getting married,” he said.

“You are.”

“I’m going to marry the man I love.”

“That’s right.”

“I never thought—”

She pulled him toward her, and they hugged, both of them crying now.

He finally moved back, wiping his face. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m so happy.”

“I’m happy for you, too.”