Page 47 of Sugarplum Dreams
She and Wilson had been married a month. She’d woken up smiling over their anniversary, although still frustrated because their relationship seemed to be going nowhere. He still slept downstairs on the couch, only on his couch now that they’d moved, and she slept upstairs in the room that used to be his bedroom but now was solely hers.
She supposed this was what she got for agreeing to a marriage of convenience. Although, she couldn’t blame it all on that. It was very difficult to find time alone without the children. They got up early, and while they didn’t go to bed super late, by the time she got them in bed and tucked in with all the stories and drinks and bathroom runs and changes of clothes and baths, she was exhausted. She assumed Wilson was the same.
She just couldn’t wait to go into her room, close the door, and try to process what she learned tonight.
“I was hoping I could talk to you for a few minutes.” Wilson’s voice came down the hall, and she turned, not seeing him there at the top of the steps in the dark.
“Of course,” she said. She wasn’t mad at him. Not really. She was more mad at herself. For being so stupid. Hoping that they would have something more than just a friendly relationship; she should have known better. She didn’t even know what she wanted.
She just knew that she wasn’t expecting to hear that Wilson was the one who had made sure that her children had gifts and who made sure that she had money for groceries and who had brought her electric bill current so that her lights didn’t get turned off. It was embarrassing, of course, but more than that, she felt betrayed, because she hadn’t known. Wasn’t him marrying her taking the Secret Saint thing a little bit too far? Why hadn’t he said anything? Surely he could have told her, “Hey, I’ve been doing some nice things for you, one more nice thing I’d like to do is to marry you.”
Of course he couldn’t say that.
“Today is one month since we got married,” he said softly.
“I know. I woke up thinking about it, but then the kids got up, and I never said anything to you. But happy anniversary.”
It was like a teenager, who celebrated the anniversary of going out with her boyfriend, except she was married. And she didn’t know her husband any better than a teenager might know that boy she was dating. Less probably.
“I got you something. I am a little nervous, because I wasn’t sure whether you’d like it. And actually there’s something in there for me too.” He handed her a little box. It was a jewelry box, and her heart stirred while her hand went to her mouth.
“Aren’t you going to open it? Are you going to leave me here nervously wiping my hands on my jeans and praying that you like it indefinitely?”
“You’re nervous,” she said, smiling up at him.
“Yes. I thought long and hard about this, and I almost took you with me to pick them out, but I wanted it to be a surprise. You don’t get too many of those.”
She didn’t. But she’d had a different surprise tonight. One that wasn’t nearly as good. She needed to talk to him about it, but she didn’t want to ruin this moment. He was making it so sweet.
Admitting that he was nervous, wanting her to like it, wanting her to have a surprise. She really couldn’t complain about any of it. In fact, it was also very considerate of him.
She slowly opened the lid of the box, savoring the idea of a gift. They hadn’t exchanged gifts at Christmas. She hadn’t even known that he was going to be in her life, when she had thought about shopping, not that she had any money to buy anything.
And she assumed the same was true for him, since there had been a gift from the Secret Saint saying…that had been him. She shook her head, and then pushed the thought aside. She’d take that up with him in a minute, but first, she wanted to appreciate whatever it was that he had gotten her.
He said there was something in there for him, and so when she opened it and saw a set of wedding rings, she wasn’t exactly surprised. But the diamond ring that winked beside them just threw her a bit.
“Wow,” she breathed, touching them gently with her finger, like they were going to feel like anything other than cold metal and stone.
“I ask your friend Kyra what your finger size was. She didn’t know, but she took her best guess. They might not fit, but the jeweler said he could resize them.”
“Oh. I… I wanted a ring, but I hated to ask, because… It seemed frivolous with all the other things, and that’s something that you never even talked about—the expense of taking on five children and a wife. Your grocery bill might only have doubled, but there are so many other things that have to be bought. I’m sorry.”
“It’s what I want to spend my money on. Trust me. I thought long and hard about it, and I couldn’t think of anything more worthy.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that.”
She looked up at him, and he seemed to know what she meant because he nodded, and then he said, “Want to see if the rings fit first?”
The thought went through her head that maybe he was giving her the rings to butter her up because he knew that there was going to be a confrontation, but she shook the thought aside immediately. Of course he wasn’t doing that. He couldn’t have gone to the store and bought the rings after he heard her finding out about him being the Secret Saint. And she believed him when he said he wanted to do it to celebrate their wedding anniversary.
It all made total sense, and she needed to just accept his words at face value. After all, she wanted him to accept her words the same.
He had gotten her ring out first, the diamond. It wasn’t huge, but it sparkled in the light and was nicer than anything she ever had, including the diamond ring that she sold once her husband had left her. It had bought groceries for a week.
She didn’t get nearly what they had paid for it, but groceries had been more important than rings at that point in her life.
“It fits perfectly.” She held her hand up, admiring the way the band looked on her finger.
