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“He chuckled and dropped me to my feet. I blinked against the rain, watching him dig into his pocket for something. He pulled it out, pinching a vintage Victorian ring with a teardrop diamond and a platinum band encrusted with more jewels, encased by an ornate setting above and below. It was almost like three rings in one, and nearly an inch in width. “It’s very old,” Will said, slipping it onto my finger, his hand shaking. “It’s your family’s?” “It’s yours now.” He met my eyes. “It’s been yours for nearly ten years.” — Penelope Douglas
He chuckled and dropped me to my feet. I blinked against the rain, watching him dig into his pocket for something.
He pulled it out, pinching a vintage Victorian ring with a teardrop diamond and a platinum band encrusted with more jewels, encased by an ornate setting above and below. It was almost like three rings in one, and nearly an inch in width.
“It’s very old,” Will said, slipping it onto my finger, his hand shaking.
“It’s your family’s?”
“It’s yours now.” He met my eyes. “It’s been yours for nearly ten years.