I sit on the doorstep, turning the box, with its golden contents, around in my fingers, then startle as a shadow falls over me. Hastily I wrap my fingers around the box, hiding the ring then relax as I realise it’s only James standing over my shoulder.
He stares down. “Don"t you think it"s a bit early for that?”
“I want to try.”
He sighs, then sits beside me. “Mind if I look?”
“Not at all.” I pass him the box and the ring; white and yellow gold strands interwoven together.
He examines it then whistles. “This must have cost you a pretty penny.”
“It did,” I admit, “but I couldn"t find what I wanted. I had it made for her. I wanted to give her something as beautiful as she is.” I twist to face him. “You know, if the idea is we"re going to be the same to her, you should give her one too.
