He takes the necklace from the case—a ruby necklace, a huge poppy—and fastens it around my neck.
I hiccup. “Gosh…it’s heavy.”
And then I actually have hiccups. I’m in a little room inside a jewelry store with hiccups, knocked up by my ex-husband and wearing a necklace that probably costs millions of dollars.
“Life is so weird.”
“I’d say weird suits you.” He touches the necklace, and I wrap my hand around his.
“What about the other one?” I whisper, looking into his eyes.
“The ring.” He smile-smirks. “What about it, Marley?”
“I want it.”
“You do?” He’s still trying to smile, but his face has gone very still, his blue eyes wide and frozen.
“I want to be your wife again. I know it’s crazy, Gabe—but I want a taste of crazy. I want you at my house at night when I get home from work. I want to be where you are. New York, Fate…wherever. We have fun together…and you make me feel cherished.”
His eyes close, very briefly. Then I watch him visibly exhale. “Okay.” He kneels in front of me and pulls something from his pocket. I hold my breath as he opens a black box, revealing the most gorgeous ring.
It’s a single diamond, round and glimmering so brightly, I feel almost blinded by it.
“Marley—will you marry me?”
I laugh so long and hard, I end up on the floor with him, crying and kissing him…and Gabe is kissing me, and… “Mar…I want to put the ring on.”
I cling to his neck, and Gabe’s hand finds my free one—and he slides the ring on.
“Better than the last one,” he says roughly.
“I always liked that one, too. Well, until I didn’t.” I laugh, and Gabe kisses my cheek. “This one will be better,” he says softly.
Gabe pulls me up, and we stand, hugging, in the corner of the glass case.
“Is this real life?” I giggle.
“I think so.” He kisses my temple. “I’m pretty fucking sure this is real life. You like it here?”
I nod.
Not long after, we walk back onto the street. I’ve got Gabe’s necklace under my jacket and his ring on my finger. Just when I think the night can’t get more perfect, I look up and almost gasp as something floats above us.
“Oh my God, that’s…a hot air balloon. A bug one…and a star back there?” I point, and Gabe says, gently, “Marley. Do you remember what tomorrow is?”
I cover my mouth. “They’re setting up for the parade. Because it’s Thanksgiving.”
5
Gabe
“I booked the room a while back.”
Marley shoots me daggers with her eyes as we sit on the bed, our curtains open, peering at the neon city. “I guess you decided to just sit things out until it was time to use it?”
I shake my head, and she laughs. “I’m just kidding. Mostly.”
“Nahh, you’re right. I was stupid. Victor had me thinking you might want a lot of space. Like it would be some fucking crime to interrupt you.”
“Tell him that I’m coming for him,” she says, but she’s smiling.
“Why do you think his mom was roped into making two dozen pies?”
“Not really two-dozen, was it…” She looks down at her lap.
I chuckle. “Not two-dozen.”
Marley stretches out on the bed, pulling me down with her. “I am so tired.” She yawns. “I feel like I took a sleeping pill.”
I kiss her hair. “You did. Vitamin D.”
She chortles at that, like I thought she would. “That’s why I love you,” she yawns.
“Why?” I peel the covers back, and Marley slips into bed.
“Because you’re punny. It’s endearing,” she says, reaching for me as I climb in, too.
“Is it?” I smile.
“Sometimes.”
She holds up her hand, catching the diamond in the lights that stream in through the windows of our eighteenth-story room. “I’m never taking this off.”
I kiss the ring and pull her close. “You don’t regret committing to this asshole ex who almost chased you off the lawn when you pulled up that day?”
“Oh, I regret it,” she says, nuzzling me. “I feel like I’m wearing a big, sparkly…chain.” She smiles, and I can tell she’s teasing.
“We should sleep. You’re tired.”
She shuts her eyes. Sighs. “I miss my mom. And I want her to meet the baby. But you know what?” She yawns again.
“What?”
Marley shakes her head, smiling a funny little smile. “I’m kinda glad I don’t have to explain this crazy plan of ours to her. Mom thought you were so attractive, I think it made her think you were arrogant, too. I think she was always a little worried about me. In the face of your huge ego.”
“What do you think?” I kiss her head.
“That was never your problem.” She hugs me. “And now we have no problems…”
*
Marley
It’s a squeal that wakes me up. The sound of children’s voices. I roll over, smiling at my dream, and reach for Gabe—but I don’t feel him. I open my eyes. Sit up. I look around, but I see nothing: just our posh, all-white hotel room, and the city sprawled out like a blanket of jewels below.
I hear another peal of laughter, followed by a low voice. And I know. I know as I run to the bathroom to get sick…I just know that it’s Geneva. That she’s here. That Madeline is here. I know that it’s going to be bad…even as I wash my face and brush my teeth and pull the bathroom door open again with utmost caution.
I step into the bedroom, and I don’t hear anything. I walk to the door and peer out the peephole, and I nearly have a heart attack when I see pale blonde hair. When I see Gabe holding Geneva.
The little girl is pretending to fly, her arms and legs stretched out as Gabe holds her above his shoulder. I can’t see his face, but I catch a glimpse of Madeline’s and am relieved to find she looks unhappy.
God. Stinging saliva fills my mouth, and for a long, miserable second, I think I’m going to be sick again.
I think of opening the door. I want to pull it open. “Hi—I’m Gabe’s fiancé…”
But I can’t, of course. I couldn’t do that to his daughter. So I stand there at the peephole, while Gabe keeps his back to me and talks to her. While Geneva bounces around both of them, and Madeline talks with elaborate hand gestures. While she starts to sob.
Gabe glances back at the door. I can see his worried eyes, for half a second. Then his shoulders slump. He pats Madeline on the shoulder, and he takes Geneva’s hand. And then, without another glance at me, he disappears with them.
*
In my defense, it’s 12:30 a.m. when he takes off. I text him twice and wait until 7:30 to get moving.
Why would he fail to text me when he left, unless he meant to leave me?
I cry the entire time I pack my tiny overnight bag. I cry when I book my ticket home—with Delta. I cry as a hail a taxi. I cry at the airport. I want to call Kat so badly, but I can’t, because I’m also just not ready to tell her about this.
I look down at my gorgeous ring, and my heart sings with pain. I still don’t have a text. No phone call, either.