Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Henna cups a hand over her mouth, tears still shining in her red eyes. But she snorts. Bodhi rests his hand on his hip and bows his head. I feel every ounce of his disappointment or secondhand embarrassment.
Zoya blinks. Nothing but an unreadable expression.
“So I stuck it in my pocket, thinking it might make you feel better, like having a piece of her with you after the funeral. Then I showed it to Rupert and Callie, and …” I shrug, leaving my shoulders at my ears a little longer than necessary.
“So … you’re not proposing?” Zoya asks, blotting her eyes.
I look at her parents.
Nothing.
Not the hint of a nod or headshake.
They shift their gazes to Zoya.
“Not really,” I say cautiously.
She turns back toward the grave. Henna does too. But Bodhi gives me a little headshake. What does that mean? Where was that when I needed guidance a few seconds ago. What does that mean?
Don’t propose now?
Ever?
Don’t worry about her reaction?
Don’t take another step up the hill?
I wait.
After a few more minutes, Zoya and her parents walk toward me.
“Just give me the ring before you lose it,” she grumbles holding out her hand.
“Give it to you? Propose?”
“Zoya, let’s go home,” Henna says.
Zoya snaps her fingers twice and holds out her flat hand. When I don’t move, she brushes past me toward the car. Henna follows her, reaching for her arm, but Zoya pulls away.
I look at Bodhi.
“Just go big,” he says loosening his black tie.
Big …
“Really, Juju?” I call, heading down the hill.
She and Henna turn, just as they reach the black SUV.
“At a cemetery? This is where you want me to propose?” I hold out my arms and turn in a slow circle. “I’m not as smart as you, but I suppose there’s something symbolic about it. The end of an era. The beginning of a new one?”
Henna steps away from the vehicle, as if she and Bodhi can fade into the distance, like hiding behind a curtain while their daughter takes center stage.
“I would have married you the day we met. That’s exactly how long it took for me to know that I would never look at another woman the way I looked at you—the way you looked at me.”
She looks away for a beat, wiping her tears.
“Love at first sight.” I laugh. “That’s bullshit, right?” I step closer, until there are maybe ten left to take. “Yet here we are two years later, and there isn’t a day that passes where I don’t replay that moment in the gallery. You looked at me, and I looked away. Then I looked at you, and you looked away. But when our gazes locked, you stripped me down in a single breath. Looking at you felt like really seeing myself for the first time. Feeling my heart beat for the first time. That moment was so big.”
She laughs, but it comes out as a sob.
I pull the ring from my pocket. “So yeah, you can have your grandma’s ring. And it doesn’t have to mean anything.” I walk the last ten steps between us and take her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger. “But I hope it can mean everything.”
She stares at the ring, tears spilling down her face. Then she sniffles. “Ask me,” she whispers.
“Will you—”
“Yes.” She throws her arms around my neck, lips pressed to mine.
This will forever be so big.