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Without light.

I stared at the ring that had that half of the saying etched into the metal. Devon really was my light. He was light-haired, happier than I was, and always had a disposition about him that sparked the fire burning within me.

There is no darkness.

I was the darkness, and without Devon, I sometimes felt like I couldn’t exist. This phrase felt like it described me to a T. Without Devon, there was no me.

Xavi thought they were lame. He told me that engagement rings and wedding bands should be classy instead of containing a lame ass phrase that we hadn’t even put there ourselves. But since when had Devon and I ever been classy? Yeah, we might not have put the words on the rings, but they fit. I was eighty percent sure Devon would understand the saying and agree with me. That twenty percent of doubt really fucked with my confidence, though.

“What they say?” Pete asked, handing me a glass of lemonade on our lunch break. We sat on his front wrap-around porch, trying to stay out of the sun.

“Without light, there is no darkness.”

“Mm,” he mused, coughing. “Without darkness, there is no light,” he reversed the phrase.

“Stupid?” I asked. “To use as engagement rings?”

“Not stupid,” he said. This prick was almost as tight-lipped as I was. One or two-word answers were our style, so we got on pretty well. He drank half his lemonade in one gulp, wiped his mouth with the back of his dirty wrist, and coughed again. “Sometimes ya gotta know the dark to appreciate the light.”

Well… that was fucking profound. And perfect. I shoved the rings back into my pocket, wondering if I should try to clean them somehow before dropping to one knee.

“You earned ‘em,” Pete said. “When are you proposing?”

I shrugged. I had no idea. I wanted it to be special, but I wasn’t the best at grand romantic gestures. How did one go about proposing to the man of their dreams while keeping a competitive edge to it? But then my mind got all caught up, wondering if this was the worst time to propose. Should I at least wait until after the shit with Jim was over and the case fully closed? Would Devon be able to be happy about the proposal while stressing about his dad? Should I hold off a bit?

“Life is short,” Pete said. “Don’t wait on the things that make your heart beat too hard.”

Devon made my heart beat so hard that half the time I felt like it’d pound right out of my chest and kill me. That blond fuck was a safety risk every time he was near me.

“I know. There’s just… some shit.”

He waved that off. “There’s always some shit. You want a big wedding?”

“No,” I scoffed. “We can’t afford a big wedding. We’ll probably get married at the courthouse or something.”

Which fucking sucked. The nearest courthouse already held all the worst memories of my life. I didn’t want my trial to overpower what should essentially be one of the happiest days of my life.

Pete pointed across the yard, way out in the distance. “You see that Willow?” he asked, and I nodded. “I married my wife there. You can have it.”

“The Willow?” I laughed.

“The spot, boy,” he gruffed. “You can get married there.”

“I’m marrying a man. Problem with that?” There were a lot of homophobic fucks in Garron, so now was the time to clear the air.

“I married a woman. Problem with that?” He downed the rest of his lemonade and wiped his mouth again.

I grinned. I liked Pete even though he worked me like a slave driver.

“Them horses ain’t gonna bring themselves in,” he said. “Get.”

I chugged the drink. “Thanks,” I said, more about the offer of the wedding spot than the lemonade. “For everything.” I guess I owed a lot to this guy—the rings, the job, the advice and encouragement, and now the Willow.

He made a grunting sound when I walked away. “That glass ain’t gonna wash itself either.”

Laughing, I went back to grab both and took them inside to wash them. Bossy hardass.

“You’reanasshole,”Devoncomplained half-heartedly, smacking my ass. “It’s been a week. How’d you already get an ass like that?”

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