“It’s not nearly enough. If I could, you would have a ring on your finger,” he rebuts. “But I will settle for a brooch for now. I figured it may be something your husband would assume you’ve had for years.” Emotion clogs my throat as I set the box on his stomach and wrap myself around him. He cradles me to him as I brush my lips against his. “Thank you,” I whisper against his mouth, also hating that his ring doesn’t decorate my finger. Maybe one day, but today, I am only happy he’s here. “Just be careful,” he murmurs between soft kisses. “It could prick you.” I grin against him, my chest so
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