Page 46 of Stay With Me
“You could definitely say that, sir,” I say. “I know it's only been a few months, but I think I’ve been gone for that girl since the day I met her.”
“Oh, I know the feeling, son. I met my Emma when we were just seven years old. Loved her for sixty-one years before she passed. I think we were only going steady for about three weeks before I proposed. When you know, you just know, right?” His eyes crinkle around the edges, misting over as he talks about his late wife.
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Elijah adds.
“Well, what kind of lady is yours, Everett? Is she a princess cut, something traditional and sophisticated? Or maybe something with a beautiful gemstone like Mrs. Harding?” He places a few rings on a cushioned tray on the counter. They’re all nice, but I don’t see anything that screams Kelsea.
“Man, I don’t know. What do you think, Eli?” I rub the back of my neck. I didn’t think this would be so fucking difficult.
“I don’t know her as… intimately as you do, Ev. But I can tell you that ‘traditional’ and ‘sophisticated’ aren’t really words I would use to describe Kelsea.” He laughs.
“Tell me this, young man. If you had to pick just one word to describe your lady, what would it be? Don’t think about it, just pick.” Mr. Parker asks.
“Bewitching,” I scoff, remember a line from a bookshe read to help calm me down after a particularly rough nightmare. “That woman has definitely fucking bewitched me.”
“I see. A romantic, huh? Perhaps something in a vintage style?” He suggested, walking to the far left case and pulling a tray out onto the counter.
Eli and I make our way down the counter to meet him. Before he makes another suggestion, I see it. In a flash, the next sixty years of my life flash before my eyes. I see myself sliding that ring on Kelsea’s finger, her walking down the aisle like the fucking goddess she is, bringing home our children, however they come to us. I see the fights and apologies, the nights spent comforting each other through every obstacle we may face. I see the image of Kelsea’s beautiful face, worn from age but still as radiant as the day I met her, opening her eyes on the pillow next to me and smiling that smile that steals my heart every single day. I want to make those visions a reality more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.
“That one,” I point, and he knows which one I’m talking about without question. As long as he’s been doing this, Mr. Parker has grown quite an eye for ring selection.
“Ah, an antique. Years and years of love have already woven their way through every inch of this one,” he says, holding it out to me.
The center stone is a classic oval diamond, not huge, but not small. But the tiny rectangular diamondsframing it are what drew my attention. They fan out around the center like a starburst, creating a beautiful shimmering halo. It screams ‘Kelsea’, and I know I can’t leave here without it. Something about the way Mr. Parker said it already has years of love woven into it sounds personal. “What do you mean it’s an antique?”
He gets a mischievous but all-knowing look on his face, and I’m even more intrigued. “When my Emma fell ill, she made me promise to pass that ring on. To let it become part of someone else’s love story with all the years of our wisdom and devotion to each other as a legacy for the couple who chose it. I think she would be over the moon to see it pass on to you, son.”
I find my eyes stinging a bit as I realize what he’s telling me. He loved his wife for sixty-one years with that ring on her finger, and now it’s my turn. I look at Elijah, who’s doing his best to cover up a sniffle.
We both clear our throats at the same time, adjusting our posture like the manly men we are. But we both know the right woman can bring even the strongest men to their fucking knees.
“I’d be honored to take it with me, sir,” I tell him.
As he cleans it up and slips it into a dark green velvet box, Elijah smiles over at me.
“You’re really gonna do this?” He asks one last time. “Big bad Everett Blake is gonna let a woman lock him down for life?”
“If there was ever a woman capable of it, it’s Kelsea fucking Sawyer,” I smirk.
I take the bag from Mr. Parker and shake his hand, promising to bring him a wedding photo in the future for the wall of photos he keeps behind the counter. As Eli and I step out of the store, we run straight into my sister as she leans against Eli’s bike. Her hip is cocked to the side, full of attitude, and she looks like she’s got a bone to pick with one of us.
“Everett Blake, what kind of shitty ass proposal is ‘marry me, Kelsea’?!” She says, hilariously mimicking my voice.
“Look, it wasn’t exactly planned out, Sparky. If I’d had time, I could have done better,” I defend myself, but she doesn’t seem to be buying it.
“Well,” she says, holding her arms out wide. “You’ve got time now, Ev. What are you gonna do with it?”
thirty-five
At Embers, be home tomorrow. I love you.
I stareat the text Everett sent me last night for the hundredth time today. I don’t blame him for not wanting to come home last night. Breaker gave me a lot to think about after our talk yesterday, and I know I didn’t really react well to Everett’s spontaneous declaration. I don’t think either of us did. Right now I’m just hanging on to the ‘ I love you’ at the end of his message. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it, so I know I haven’t completely blown it.
I've been erratically cleaning the townhouse all day, scrubbing every inch of every surface I can possibly reach. I've always been an anxious cleaner. Taylor Swift blares through the sound bar in the living room, singingabout being somebody’s end game. I’d give anything to be Everett’s. All of my fears from yesterday seem so stupid now, and I’ve only spent one night away from him.
Resting my hands on the cool granite of the bar, I shut off the water after scrubbing every dish we own. Rory has steered clear of me all day, and I don’t blame her. My phone buzzes on the counter next to me and I pick it up without even checking the caller ID.
“Everett?” I say.
