Page 77 of Yours, Finally

I found a big one and offered it to Jake. "No, it's my gift. Please."

"Let's see if it fits before we argue about it."

It fit, and I won the argument, mostly because Jake really had a hard time denying me anything.

"It's not fair," he said later. "It's hard to find things I think you will like in places like this."

We walked down the street eating artisanal ice cream. The bag with his new hoodie hung from his wrist while we held hands.

"It's okay." I squeezed his hand. "Keep your eyes peeled for anything unique with violets— I collect those for obvious reasons. If not, we'll find something else. It's fine."

"No, I really want to find something that will remind you of this weekend."

I licked from my delicious dark chocolate and whisky ice cream. "I will remember, memento or not, Jake."

"Still. Just like I will remember when I'm wearing the hoodie, or you borrow it."

He came to an abrupt stop by a small storefront. It drew my attention to the window, where a painted sign announced they specialized in glass and stonework - from home décor to unique jewelry pieces, from the look of the street-facing display.

"Oh, let's see here," he said.

We didn't have much ice cream left, and we finished it before going inside. Jake and I walked through the narrow passages, gazing at all the details in the small shop. The store cast light into every corner, with strategically placed sconces, lamps, and hanging fixtures. Glinting objects of all kinds sat on shelves and display tables; from crystal cocktail glass collections tocolored glass vases, polished and unpolished stones in wooden containers, and jewelry in distinctive showcases.

"If we don't find anything that looks like a violet," Jake said, "it could be something in the right shade of purple, perhaps?"

I stared at one of the jewelry displays. "What about a ring?"

He didn't immediately reply. "You want a ring?"

I cut a glance at him. He stared at me with a spark of mischief in his eyes.

He arched an eyebrow. "Would you like me to get you a ring?"

I laughed. "Not that kind of ring yet, big guy. We probably should count at least a few months together and one fight before we decide yes, we're it for each other."

"We need to fight?" He put his hands on my waist and turned me to him.

Surrounded by precious materials, some as ancient as Earth's core, I gazed at the man I had adored for years and looked at a future with him.

"Of course." I grinned at him and placed my hands on his chest. "I know the past twenty-four hours have been incredible, but it can't all be bliss. What if we're not good at making it better after a fight? We can't have that kind of fragility in our lives, if this is love."

"Not fighting is fragility, huh?" He lifted a hand to my face.

"Yes. Good fights set the course straight. A love that can't weather a little storm may not be love at all."

He frowned, thoughts passing behind his eyes like clouds. Yet a small smile turned one of the corners of his lips up.

"I'll fight with you one day, then." He kissed my forehead, then my lips. "Just to shake things up and test your theory."

"It has to be a good fight, though." I surrounded his waist with my arms. "A productive verbal scuffle that resolves fast. Should we practice and see what happens?"

He chuckled and kissed my cheek. "Nah. The right time will come." He took my hand and led me to a tray full of rings. "Now let's see which one you'd like."

"If it's a ring, it's got to be unique. Remember that!"

A salesperson approached us. "May I help you? I think I heard mention of a ring. We do custom pieces, if you’re interested."

"Not today, but can I see this ring right here?" I pointed at a silver piece with two round amethysts.