Page 67 of The Rejected Wife

He means Arthur’s now-dead wife.

"She left behind a piece of jewelry for each of her sons and grandsons to give to their future wives."And he wants to give it to her.So, he feels something for her? He must. That’s the only reason he’d give her a family heirloom as a ring.

My heart vacates my body, leaving an empty cavity in my chest. My pulse booms in my temples so loudly, I can barely hear myself think.Which is strange, given I don’t have a heart anymore. So how can the blood still be pumping in my body?How can I still be alive and listening to him go on about another woman? Bloody hell. Where’s your self-respect? Get out of here; leave before you say something you’re going to regret.

"Can you try it on?" he rumbles.

"What?" I jerk my chin in his direction. "No," I burst out, "I can’t do that."

His eyebrows knit. He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, then once more, fixes me with his hypnotic heterochromatic gaze, “I want to see how it looks."

What’s that got to do with me?My thoughts spiral, clawing at anything that might make sense. This is…some special kind of hell he’s putting me through.

If you survive this, imagine what else you’re capable of?

Another self-help platitude, which seems particularly apt for this situation. Only, it’s easier to read and far more difficult to implement in real life.

"Please.” His throat bobs. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important."

What the— Why does he look as desperate as I feel? Something in his voice—low, rough, full of something close to agony—cuts through the storm in my head. I swing my gaze to his and, oh shoot, that was a mistake.

The plea in those stunning mismatched eyes makes my breath catch.What’s he up to?

The first slivers of doubt pierce the panic that grips my mind. No, surely not… He doesn’t mean to… Nah.Not possible.

But the thought sparks, catches, spreads like wildfire. My heart pounds so hard in my chest, I’m sure it’s going to crack through my rib cage. I can feel the blood rush in my ears. The world shrinks to him, to this, to now.

When I don’t react, he holds out his hand. Not forceful. Not demanding. Just… Steady. Certain.

As if he did a mind-meld, I place my hand in his.

He slips it onto my left ring finger.

33

Tyler

It fits perfectly.

She stares at the ring on her finger like it’s going to change into a snake and bite her any moment. The ring catches and scatters light. Golden sparks flash in the depths of the stone. It reminds me of the sparkle in her eyes. It's no coincidence that my grandmother bequeathed this ring to me. Perhaps, she already knew that the woman I’d end up losing my heart to would have eyes resembling the color of autumn leaves kissed by golden sunlight.

“I had it resized for you.”

“Resized?” She tries to pull her hand away, but I hold on. She jerks her chin up, and her gaze clashes with mine. “For… Forme?What do you mean?”

“I mean—” I try to get my thoughts in order. " I need a wife, and Serene needs a mother figure in her life. She loves you already. She trusts you. And she fell for you as soon as she saw you."Like me."And we already know, we have chemistry…"

“Hold on.” She pulls her hand from mine again.

This time, I release it.

“Is this… Is this…” She seems to be having trouble forming the words. The anger and hurt I glimpsed in her eyes have faded. In their place is confusion. And disorientation. And a healthy dose of disbelief. “Is this what I think it is?” she sputters.

I nod.

“You mean…this…this is…” She swallows. Her eyes bug out. She opens and shuts her mouth, then shakes her head. “No, it can’t be. I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not. And thisisa marriage proposal.” There. It’s finally out in the open.

---