Two Years of Marriage, I Never Got My Wedding Ring Chapter 40

Two Years of Marriage, I Never Got My Wedding Ring Chapter 40

I picked up the other ring, the one for him.

He immediately held out his hand.

I looked at the silver band already on his finger.

“What about that one?”

“I’m keeping it.”

“You’re going to wear two rings?”

Alessio glanced at the finger that had been red and swollen just a day ago.

“To remind me.”

I didn’t say anything else. I just put the new ring on his other hand.

The vendor clapped.

“Now that looks much better.”

Alessio turned and handed her his phone.

“Could you take a picture of us?”

I was surprised.

“You voluntarily take photos now?”

“I have a lot to make up for.”

He stood beside me, not too close.

The vendor held up the phone.

“Closer! You two just made up, right? Don’t stand there like you’re in a board meeting.”

Alessio looked down at me.

I took half a step closer.

His hand brushed my shoulder, then stopped.

I glanced at him.

“It’s fine.”

Only then did he let his hand rest there, his arm loosely around me.

In the photo, the background is a blur of messy signs and market stalls.

Alessio has the $29.99 silver band on one hand, and I have the new ring he just gave me on mine.

On the way back to my apartment, Alessio walked me to the door.

He didn’t ask to come up.

He just pressed the box of cold medicine into my hands again.

“Can I bring you breakfast tomorrow?”

I thought for a moment.

“The coffee can’t be too hot.”

“All right.”

“No sugar.”

“I remember.”

“And the bagel should be toasted until it’s crispy.”

Alessio actually took out his phone and started taking notes.

I watched him type, trying not to smile.

“Alessio.”

He looked up.

“Did you take notes like this when you were negotiating deals?”

“Deals change.”

He said, “I don’t want to miss a single thing you say ever again.”

The hallway light flickered on.

I stood on the steps and looked at him.

The new ring on my finger was warm against my skin, and very light.

Before turning to go upstairs, I looked back and said, “Seven-thirty tomorrow.”

Alessio stood at the bottom of the steps, a real smile finally reaching his eyes.

“All right.”

At seven twenty-eight the next morning, my doorbell rang.

I opened the door.

Alessio stood there, holding coffee, a bagel, and a small cup of warm fruit.

He handed me the breakfast, then immediately looked down at my hand.

The ring was still there.

He tried to suppress a smile but failed.

I asked him, deliberately, “What are you looking at?”

Alessio pulled the old $29.99 receipt from his wallet, then took the new pickup slip from the back of his phone case.

He said, “Just making sure I brought the right one today.”