Page 93 of Doing It for Love

I continue to choke on my own breath as I stare blankly at both of them.

“Landon’s ring. I have to buy him a ring.”

“Yeah…?” Jace says, but Alec slams his eyes shut and releases a long breath because he knows. He knows what’s playing in my mind. The decreasing number in the honeymoon fund, the lack of income even with the overtime, and Landon’s empty left hand at the altar. I grab onto the arms of the recliner, try to balance myself, but I can’t. I slump to the floor. I hear Alec softly tell Jace, “Money, dude.”

My vision goes in and out of focus as I shake my head. How could I forget about his ring? I’ve had mine for months, twisting it, cleaning it, showing it off, staring at it, hugging it, and I hadn’t given one thought about putting one on his finger. Now we’re only a week away.

What am I going to do? It’s the ring or the honeymoon. You can’t have a wedding without rings. But you can’t have a wedding without the honeymoon. I feel the weight of a thousand Hurdles pound on my back, turning me into a rambling idiot on Jace’s floor, going on and on about all the meaningless wedding chores I gave myself. The no-sex rule, the wedding dress fiasco, the damn upside-down turkey, and how it means nothing now because I can’t buy my fiancé his ring.

Both guys look at me like they have no clue how to handle a woman and have been winging it up until this point. Jace clears his throat, pulls his phone out, and steps from the room while Alec pats my back. He keeps saying he’ll advance my paycheck, offer more hours, but I’m shaking my head because all the money from my paychecks needs to go into rent, utilities, food, normal grown-up things, and I suddenly feel so not ready for it at all.

“Beth Ann,” Jace says, tapping my shoulder and holding his phone out to me. I take it and try to steady my breathing.

“Hello?” I say into the receiver.

“Once upon a time, there was a boy with no fingers.”

“Landon—”

“And he desperately wanted just one…only one finger.”

“Your finger story will not change the fact that we—”

“On certain days, he desired a thumb. Days when his buddies would give him thumbs-up or when his friends played Thumbs Up, Seven Up, or had thumb wars. And he would make a wish to the skies for a thumb. But it never happened.

“Then, when he became a teenager, he wanted a middle finger to effectively describe how he felt toward certain things. All the other kids were doing it, and he’d love to stick it to someone like that. But of course, that wish went ignored, too.”

“He wished to give people the bird?” I say, and I feel myself wanting to laugh, but maybe I’ve forgotten how.

Landon ignores me. “He became a man, and fell in love with an out-of-his-league woman, and hedesperatelywanted a finger. And not to do what I know you’re thinking, dirty woman, but to wipe her tears away, to prod her chin, to link just one finger with hers. He begged the stars for one finger. Even just a pinky. But they didn’t answer.

“Then their wedding day came. The bride helped him button his shirt, tie his tie, and then kissed him on the lips. He cupped her face in his palms, all fingers gone, wishing out loud that he had just the one finger on his left hand so the world would know his heart had been stolen. And his bride brought her own finger to his lips and said, ‘The world will know because I will always be with you.’ She sealed it not with a ring, but with a promise in front of all their friends and family. And the man never felt the need to wish for another finger in his lifetime.”

“Landon…”

“I don’t need a ring. I just need you.”

Now I’m crying. “I just need you.”

“Then please, don’t worry about this.”

I pause, battling my nature toworry.

“All right.”

“All right.” He lets out one of those sighs, but it doesn’t make me nervous this time. “I’ll be home soon. Meet me there?”

“You want me to head out now?” I look to Alec, and he pushes off his knees and grabs his coat.

“Yeah. I…I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” And I say it the same way he did…as if we haven’t seen each other in weeks. I tap the end button on Jace’s cell and hand it back, then snort a little when my knees crack as I stand.

Alec sings to me on the way home, and I join in a few times but keep my voice low because he’s so much better than I am. He starts “I Get a Kick Out of You,” but I stop him, requesting “You Are My Dream” instead.

“I’ll walk up with you,” he says, parking in Theresa’s extra stall. “I gotta get something from Theresa.”

We hop into the elevator and I tease him by threatening to push all the buttons. He stands in front of them till we get to my floor.

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