When we pulled apart, Mark glanced toward the window.
“By the way,” he said cautiously, “would you mind helping me collect the rest of my clothes?”
I looked at him.
Then I looked at Julia.
She burst out laughing.
I tried to remain serious, but I couldn’t help smiling.
“You’re lucky I said yes.”
“I know.”
“And you’re buying dinner tonight.”
“Anything you want.”
“Good. Because after the day I’ve had, I’m not cooking.”
Julia laughed again, and for the first time that evening, the house felt warm.
The next morning, I woke up with the ring on my finger.
For several seconds, I lay still, looking at the diamond catching the early sunlight.
I had imagined this moment so many times that it almost felt unreal.
Then I heard voices downstairs.
Mark was making breakfast, and Julia was telling him that he was putting too much butter on the toast.
