I shifted uncomfortably. “Not really. I mean… she knows I’m disappointed. But I’m trying to keep it together.”
She shook her head. “You need to talk to her, Adrian. You know, communication? That thing couples are supposed to do before they get married?”
Teresa had a point. I’d been holding a silent grudge, letting my resentment bubble up beneath the surface, because on the outside, it was easier to pretend I was fine. But inside, I was a mess.
Saturday came, and Marina and I drove to a quaint jewelry store she’d found in an old part of town. It wasn’t a fancy boutique with bright lights and glass cases; it was more like a cozy, antique shop—wooden shelves, faded wallpaper, and a gentle old dog sleeping in the corner. A petite woman with kind eyes introduced herself as Georgina, the owner. Marina immediately seemed at ease, scanning through a set of velvet trays laid out on a weathered wooden counter.
Meanwhile, I was pacing around the shop, pretending to admire the décor but really just bracing myself for the moment we’d pick out “the other ring.” Eventually, Marina called me over. She had three rings in front of her—a delicate rose gold band with a moonstone, a vintage 1920s-style piece with engraving on the side, and a striking emerald-cut diamond set in a scalloped band.
