Page 4 of Rekindling Desire

My eyes widened. “What?”

Damien forced his closed hand toward his sister. “We don’t need a ring to make this legal.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Your mom can’t offer her wedding ring.”

Dani forced a smile. “She didn’t. It isn’t. The band was our grandmother’s. Since Nana passed, Mom has always worn her ring on her right hand. She wants you to have it, Ella. She wants to be here, but she can’t make herself leave the waiting room.

“We know this wedding is rushed, but you can’t erase the years you were part of our lives. My brother is the one who needs to make this right.” She feigned a smile. “Like they say, you don’t only marry the person, you marry the family. Our family loves you.”

I would guess Dani’s new sister-in-law wasn’t a fan, but maybe she wasn’t including Amber in the overall family umbrella.

Sniffing, I worked to keep my emotions at bay as I looked up to Damien. “If you don’t want to use it, we don’t need a ring.”

“I want you to have the best. A seventy-year-old band isn’t the best.”

“May I see it?” I asked.

Slowly, Damien opened his fingers. The ring lying upon his palm looked too small. Yet as I reached for it, I realized that it was the size of his hand that dwarfed the band. In my fingers, the band looked as if it would fit. I twisted the golden circle, rolling it between the tips of my finger and thumb. I squinted my eyes. “There’s an inscription.”

“Really?” Dani questioned, reaching for the band. “I never knew that.” She took the ring toward a light and turned it until she began to read, “It says: Don’t let the flame extinguish. Always rekindle.”

For a moment, the words of the inscription hung heavily in the air.

Finally, I admitted, “I never knew your grandparents. Rekindle.” The word settled into my psyche.

To relight.

To revive—something that has been lost.

“Rekindle,” I repeated the word and looked at Dani. “Does Marsha really want me to have it?”

Dani nodded. “She does. Who knew Nana and Papa were romantics?”

“They sound practical,” I replied. “As if they knew what it took to keep a relationship working.”

“If you ask me,” the pastor said, “I think they are giving timely advice from Heaven. Flames aren’t difficult to ignite, whether of love, desire, or lust. A spark can turn an entire forest to ash. However, that flash is incapable of igniting the forest fire alone. The striking of metal and flint creates a flicker, yet without fuel, the spark dies. To truly ignite the blaze requires other elements. I think your grandparents’ inscription means they understood that to keep the flames burning, it takes work.” Her smile broadened. “All relationships ebb and flow. That is life. Taking the time and making the effort to rekindle the fire—that is what is required for a successful relationship.”

The buzzing in my ears stilled as I held the wedding band. When I looked up at Damien, there were tears in my eyes.

His palm gently came to my cheek. “Ella.”

On the plane to LA, he’d asked me what I would have said if he’d proposed in Aruba. My honest answer was I didn’t know. That didn’t mean I would have said no or yes. I truly didn’t know. There was a time I imagined my forever with the man before me.

My leaving him was because I felt as if when with him, I disappeared. Maybe if he had proposed, I would have known that I wasn’t invisible—that he saw me.

“Five months,” Damien whispered. “If what we shared isn’t rekindled, we’ll agree to amicably part ways.”

Part ways.

Is that possible now that we’ve both remembered the passion?

The clergy spoke. “I don’t encourage contingency plans at a wedding.”

I scoffed. Of course, she didn’t. Then again, she didn’t know our history. I feigned a smile. “Maybe you should. It sets a goal.”

Damien nodded, the storm inside his orbs settling. “Are you ready?”

The tips of my lips curled upward as I leaned into his touch. “No, I’m not.” I inhaled. “Let’s do this.”

---