My heart in my throat and my soul flying, I whisper, “Ten carats? So tiny. God, you’re a cheapskate, gangster.” He hugs me, hard, kissing the top of my head, my earlobe, my neck. Into my ear he says softly, “Marry me.” Of course it had to be a command, not a question. My voice cracks when I answer. “Let me get a look at this tiny ring first. I’ll let you know in a minute.” “It’s a flawless cushion-cut diamond on a platinum band. Harry Winston.” I press my cheek against his chest, listening to the comforting sound of his pounding heart. “Ugh. Sounds hideous.” “Is that a yes or a no?” When I
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