I slap at the tsunami of tears rushing down my face. Emmett doesn’t bother with his. Instead, he sniffles, opening that velvet ring box, showing me the ring I asked for the day after we met. Three-carat emerald-cut diamond with a hidden halo and pear-shaped accent stones set on white gold. “I went four carats,” he murmurs through his tears. “You’re a four-carat kind of woman.” I bark out a laugh, followed by more tears. “So true.”
