I go still as he takes a giant bite of pizza. Part of me was expecting this from the moment he mentioned his brother. I didn’t want to believe it, but there isn’t any use in lying to myself anymore. The ring he’s been carrying around in his pocket all day isn’t for me. It never was.
Perhaps a small part of me should be relieved. I did, after all, experience a slight moment of panic when I’d first heard my boyfriend had been shopping in the I Do boutique.
But the sudden tightness in my chest doesn’t feel at all like relief. Nor do the unshed tears clouding my vision or the way my pulse has begun to pound so hard that I can’t fully catch my breath. This sensation isn’t relief at all. It feels more like heartbreak.
My phone buzzes again from the depths of my handbag. Maya, most likely. She’s probably sending me options for bridesmaid dresses. I want to crawl under the table and hide.
“It was nice of you to buy the ring for your brother,” I say, because I can’t keep sitting here in silence. That would definitely make Jeremy realize something is wrong.
But there’s an unmistakable tremor to my voice. I hear it. Jeremy hears it. Even the couple sitting at the table beside us hears it, if their sidelong glances are any indication. Hashtag awkward.
Jeremy frowns at me over his slice of pepperoni. He has a rogue string of mozzarella cheese stuck to his chin, which ordinarily would be something we’d both laugh about. Looking at it now makes me inexplicably weepy.
Get yourself together. An hour ago you were wearing Audrey Hepburn’s necklace, and tomorrow you’ll be on a plane to Paris. Everything is fine.
“What’s wrong?” Jeremy asks.
“Why did you roll your eyes just now?” The question slips right out of my mouth before I can stop it.
Jeremy’s brow furrows. The mozzarella on his chin doesn’t budge. “When?”
“Just a second ago, when you said Josh will be proposing to his girlfriend on Christmas Eve.” My voice has gone eerily calm with no trace of a tremor whatsoever. “You rolled your eyes so hard that I thought they might roll right out of your head.”
Jeremy stares at me for a beat before lowering the piece of pizza in his hand back down to the plate in front of him. “It didn’t mean anything. I just think it’s a little cliché, that’s all. I’m sure you agree.”
“With what, exactly? Is it a holiday engagement that’s cliché or the idea of marriage in general?” For the record, I don’t agree on either count. In fact, both options sound perfectly lovely to me.
Jeremy shakes his head, clearly baffled. “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset.”
Don’t say it. Now is the time to swallow my disappointment, save what’s left of the evening and go home to get a good night’s sleep before our flight in the morning. If I admit that I heard about the ring and assumed it was meant for me, there will be no going back.
I don’t have to say it, though. The truth is apparently written all over my face.
“Oh no. No, no, no, no.” Jeremy’s eyes go as wide as saucers. “Maya told you about the ring, didn’t she? And you thought…”
My face burns with embarrassment.
“You said you had a special Christmas surprise for me tonight,” I say in my defense.
“And I did! The necklace, remember?” He nods enthusiastically, as if he’s accepting an award for Boyfriend of the Year. I’m feeling less and less inclined to tell him about the cheese stuck to his face. “Why in the world would we want to get married?”
Ouch.
I feel like crumpling right here in full view of the other pizza shop patrons. A woman at a nearby table groans out loud.
“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.” Jeremy holds up a hand, backpedaling before I can articulate a response. “You know how much I care about you.”
Do I, though?
He loves you. Of course he does.
A rebellious tear slides down my cheek as I remember how alone I felt in Windsor an hour ago when I couldn’t even get him to look at me—and earlier at my apartment when he noticed and then immediately dismissed the new vintage charm brooch I’d been working on for days. Tiny things I’ve tried my best to overlook suddenly seem like monumental red flags.
This night is a disaster.
“I only meant that marriage isn’t for people like us,” he says, as if that’s supposed to make me feel better.
“People like us?” I echo.
“You know what I mean.”
Why does he keep saying that? I’m beginning to think Jeremy doesn’t actually get me at all.
“I honestly don’t.” I wrap my arms around my myself tightly in an effort to hold myself together.
“Babe.” He reaches for me from across the table, and I somehow manage to let him hold my ring-less hand. “Marriage? Really? Why would we want to go down that road? We’re living the dream.”
I nod mutely, trying my best to hold onto the feeling of Audrey’s pink diamond resting against my skin. Audrey Hepburn would handle this sort of disappointment with grace and poise. She’d never weep into a slice of pepperoni pizza.
“Look around.” Jeremy waves his free hand toward the view outside the window. Central Park dazzles with twinkling lights, and the gentle snowfall is so beautiful, it nearly makes me cry. I push back the urge since no matter how desperately I want to believe the gorgeous holiday scenery is the reason for the tears just on the verge of brimming, I know better. “Tonight, it’s Manhattan. Tomorrow, it’ll be Paris. We’ve got the sort of glamorous lives that most people only dream of.”
Paris.
During the past few devastating minutes, I’d somehow forgotten all about our romantic holiday vacation.
I take a deep breath. Back at my apartment, my passport is probably diving back inside a drawer, never to be seen again. As much as I’ve always wanted to go to Paris, it’s the absolute last place I want to be with Jeremy at the moment. “So you’re saying that after three years together, you’re not ready to get engaged.”
He gives me a tentative smile. “I guess so, yeah. But babe, that doesn’t mean…”
I stand without letting him finish. I’ve heard enough.
“Please stop explaining—it’s okay,” I say.
Really, it is. Because the more I think about it, the more I realize I’m not ready for marriage, either. Not to Jeremy, anyway. Not after tonight.
I slide into my coat, and the charm on my vintage pin gives a little jingle. Such a Christmassy sound. So joyful, when I’m feeling the exact opposite.