But her smile didn’t reach her eyes. And before the night was even over, she casually dropped, “I love you, and of course I want to marry you… but do you mind if I pick a different ring?”
Just like that.
I laughed at first. Thought she was joking. But she wasn’t. “This one just doesn’t feel like me,” she said. “We could go together this weekend and find one I really connect with.”
It wasn’t about the money. She comes from a well-off family—suburban Connecticut, summer house in Maine type of vibe. Her mom’s the kind of woman who side-eyes your shoes and asks what your “people do.”
So yeah, I was pissed. Not just because she didn’t like the ring, but because it felt like… something deeper. Like this whole thing suddenly wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.
I kept quiet in the car ride home. She was humming to the radio like everything was fine.
