“Lanaya, I need to talk to you about something…”
The hesitation and unease in his eyes made me want to pull my hand away. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want him to say he wanted to break up. I didn’t want him to use the debt of saving his life as an excuse to turn me from his bride into his bridesmaid.
“Let go. You’re hurting me,” I said, pulling my hand free.
He glanced down and saw my bare hand—no engagement ring, just an ugly scar. Still, he refused to let go.
“Lanaya, what if I told you…”
His expression was as if he were about to take a leap of faith, and my heart raced with fear.
Just then, his phone rang.
It was his alarm, reminding him it was time to go to the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Hurriedly, he silenced the phone, flustered and stumbling over his words.
“Lanaya, the engagement ring you liked was bought by someone else. I’ve ordered a custom one, but it won’t be ready for a while.”
“You’re not mad at me for messing things up, are you?”
I shook my head.
“It’s fine.”
His phone rang again, and with one glance at it, he got up to leave.
“There are still a few wedding details I need to sort out. I might not have time to be with you these next few days,” he said in passing.