“So what? You told me there was nobody special.” “Maybe I lied.” “Well, I don’t see a ring on your finger.” Ridiculous argument. “Gay men don’t wear—” “Oh the fuck they don’t,” he dismissed me. “Who says what they can or can’t do?” “Sam—” “You’re gonna wear a ring for me.” I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to the waiter. I ordered a club sandwich and soup and Sam ended up having the same. Alone again, Sam slid closer, putting an arm around the back of the seat.
