The Light Between Us (19 page)

Derek shoved a hand in a pocket, the other still clutching hers, and she held on just as tightly, feeling dizzy, although not in an entirely bad way.

“
And given the situation . . . well, I got to thinking that maybe I have a solution.”

Ruth frowned, confused.  “The situation?”

He drew his hand from his pocket, holding something small and dark.  “With your writing.  With us . . . with how much we care for each other, against all the odds, and all reason.”

“
Wait, what does my writing have to do with anything?”  She felt like they were having two completely separate conversations at the same time, and her brain could not synch the two.

He smiled, a thin, wavering thing, fear and hope warring in the depths of his eyes.  “It got me thinking.  About us.  About the future.”

Ruth drew a deep, trembling breath.  Where was he going with all this?  She wanted to grab his shoulders and shake the truth out of him.  Instead, she wound her fingers into his even more snugly.

“
And – well, you know I've lived my life in a certain way, and I don't want to live that way anymore.  I want to be the kind of man that you expect.  That you deserve.  I want to be that man, and be with you.”

“
I want to be with you, too,” she said.

“
Good,” he said, nodding as if she'd just confirmed something.  “Because . . . well, I'll just show you.”  He unlaced his fingers from hers and extended the hand that held the dark mysterious something.  She saw that it was a tiny box.  The kind that might hold a tiny piece of jewelry.

Ruth didn't know that her heart could hammer any faster than it already was, but the sight of the box sent it careening alarmingly against her ribs.  “Derek . . .” she said, unable to take her eyes off the box.

He opened it, holding it out to her.  Inside was a ring.  The band was a muted gold, and there were five small diamonds embedded into it at regular intervals around its circumference.  And at the center rested a much larger diamond, cradled by a setting reminiscent of tiny leaves. 

Ruth felt like the bottom dropped out of her stomach, like she was either going to scream or vomit at the sight of the ring.  The ring that looked very much like an engagement ring.  She couldn't decide if the nausea swirling through her was born of excitement or horror. 

“
Ruth,” Derek said, fingers clutched tightly around the box, the harbor air tousling his dark, decadent waves of hair, “will you marry me?”

“
Holy shit,” she breathed, wide eyes still glued to the ring.  Silence hung between them for  long, excruciating moments.  She willed herself to say something else, anything else, but all she could feel waiting to emerge from her lips were more expletives. 

“
Well,” Derek said at last, forehead creased with concern, “I've been hoping for a yes and bracing myself for a no . . . but I certainly did not expect that to be your response.”

His words seemed to break her own muteness.  “Derek,” she said, shaking her head in wonder, “that ring is – well, wow, it's amazing.”

“
But . . . ?”

“
We haven't known each other for even a week!” She threw her hands up in exasperation.  “Getting married would be insane, right?  Especially after the start we had.”

“
We had a terrible start,” Derek agreed, nodding, “and yet you're still here.  And if that doesn't scare you off . . . I figure that's a damn good sign.”

“
Maybe it is, but that doesn't mean we need to run off and get married!  I thought we agreed to take thing slow.  This definitely does not feel slow.”

“
We agreed to take things slow in terms of sex.  But this isn't about sex.”

“
Then what is it about?” she demanded. 

“
Well, you said it yourself – the teaching, the first graders, it's not you.  It saps you, and leaves little time or energy for your true passion.”

“
Writing,” she said, squinting at him.

“
Writing,” he repeated, flashing her a half smile that made her heart flip flop in spite of the engagement ring he still held out to her.  “And I got to thinking that if we were married, you wouldn't have to work at anything except what you want, what you love.”

“
That certainly sounds like a marriage of convenience.  Which mostly only end well in romance novels.” 
Ironically
, she added silently.

He sighed in exasperation.  “No, but it wouldn't just be a marriage of convenience.  I love you, Ruth.  I didn't even know I could love anybody, and certainly not like this, but you . . . somehow you've unlocked this part of me that I thought – and hoped – that I'd killed.  And instead I find that it's very much alive, and even more than that, that I'm glad that it is.  And it's because I love you.”

“
Are you sure you aren't just in lust with me?” Ruth asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“
No.”  His reply was immediate and firm.  “I'm an expert in living lustfully, remember?  This thing we have – it's like nothing I've ever experienced before.”

Ruth felt like her head was swimming.  “Derek, this is all very – well, it's crazy, but I'm really flattered and –”

“
Flattered?” he reeled back, as if the word offended him.  “
Flattered
?  I just put all I had out on the line for you, and all you can say is that you're flattered?”

“
Well, I am.  What else do you want me to say?” she countered.

“
How about whether or not you love me, too.”

She winced.  “Oh.”

Derek rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, oh.  So what'll it be?”

“
Like, will I or won't I marry you?”

“
Do you love me?”  His eyes were ablaze.

Ruth stared long and hard at him, watching his face grow redder with what she imagined was shame and embarrassment.  She felt heat begin to spread across her own cheeks, her heart beginning to hammer again.  Seeing him like this, practically writhing under the chill of her silence, wrenched at her gut, her eyes filling with tears. 
Is this love
, she thought,
that I'd do practically anything to keep him from being hurt?  That all I can think about is his breath, his eyes, his skin against mine?

Padme's voice suddenly echoed through her memory.  “How about we just agree that this is a damn good thing,” she'd said earlier during their phone call.

A damn good thing
.  That was what she had with Derek.  That was it exactly.  Something she'd stopped hoping for, something that she'd no longer believed existed.  And yet – she had it, with him.  With this man that made her feel more alive than she had in – well, maybe ever.

Twin tears spilled from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks as drew in a shaky breath and opened her mouth to reply.

“
I –“ she began, limbs trembling.  Another deep breath, and she managed to blurt, “I need you to get tested for STDs.”

Oh. Shit.
she thought. 

Chapter 11

The idea had come to him when he was heading back to the office after he and Ruth had ridden swan boats.  Striding along the busy Boston sidewalk, traffic belching the scent of exhaust into the air as it hustled by, Derek had passed a jewelry shop with trinkets of diamond-studded gold and silver gleaming at him invitingly.  The sight had made him stop in his tracks, then drawn him into the store, barely understanding why.

Until he saw the ring.  It was the first that his eyes fell on once he was inside the doors, but he knew instantly – it was for her.  For Ruth.  The muted gold, the finely wrought leaves, the way the central diamond blossomed from its setting – it could only be hers.  It begged to be hers.

And it was only then that the gears of his brain started grinding out what such a gift would mean.  Engagement.  As soon as the word revealed itself, it glimmered alluringly, and then alarmingly.

Was  he, the devout bachelor, actually considering
marriage
of all things?  Tying himself to a single woman until death do them part?

But, the ring seemed to remind him as he gazed at it, resting within its glass case, it wouldn't be just any woman that he'd be tying himself to.  It'd be
the
woman – the one who had so surprisingly, so deliciously captured his mind and heart.  Who was teaching him how to love love itself, to understand why so many poets' pens had bled words of the heart, why it was considered by some to be the most powerful force on the planet.

And marriage . . . well, that seemed to be the next logical step after finding love.  Wasn't it?  He'd shaken his head at the ring, unsure.  They hadn't even known each other a week.  Surely pursuing engagement at this point was premature. 

And yet he couldn't get the idea out of his head.  Nor could he take his eyes from the ring, with its antique essence. 

A clerk, an older woman with coiffed silver curls and violet eye shadow, had approached him.  “Would you like to take a closer look at anything?”

After a moment, Derek had nodded.  “Yes,” he'd said, pointing at the ring.  “That one, please.”

“
Ah,” the clerk had said knowingly, slipping the ring from its perch, “one of my favorites.  Such a lovely piece.”  She passed the ring to him, and he accepted it into his gently cupped hand.

The ring felt alive in his hand, strangely warm and electric.  As if it knew, knew the insanity that he was apparently considering seriously. 

“
I'll take it.”  The words were out of his mouth before he'd even decided to purchase the ring.  But even as he felt his eyes widen with shock at his own statement, he knew that he wouldn't take it back.  That he couldn't. 

“
What a special gift this will make,” the clerk had said with a knowing wink.  “For a very special person, I hope?”

“
An incredible woman.  One that I am lucky to know,” he'd replied, wiping suddenly sweaty palms on his trousers.

“
How wonderful,” she'd said, ringing him up, settling the ring into a tiny box, and slipping the box into a bag with the receipt before handing it to him.  “Best of luck, dear.”

“
Thanks,” he'd said, heading back out the store, clutching the bag.  Glancing at his watch, he saw that the whole exchange had only taken a few minutes, even though it had felt curiously longer.

Resuming his march down the street back to his office, Derek's heart had started to pound. 
Did I seriously just buy an
engagement
ring for the woman I just met a few days ago?  Me?! 
But then he'd remembered the feeling of the ring in his hand, and of Ruth leaning against him while they rode the swan boats, and his panic receded, replaced by a deeper knowing. 

Reaching his office building and riding the elevator up, he'd recalled Ruth's frustration at the job that leached all of her time and energy, leaving little for her passion – writing.  He could clearly see how much it hurt her, how it made the work she needed to do to make a living more and more unbearable the longer her dreams went unpursued. 

But if we were married
, he realized,
she wouldn't have to teach, or work at any job unless she wanted to
.  His law career made more than enough money to support himself and another comfortably, leaving her free to write. 

His heart had begun to thump again, but this time with excitement. 

By the time he'd stepped off the elevator, he was smiling.  Jani looked up from the typing she was doing, eyes instantly traveling to the bag he carried, which was clearly marked with the name of the popular jeweler's. 

“
Is that . . . jewelry, Mr. Stone?” she'd squeaked. 

He'd winked back.  “You'll see soon enough,” Derek had said as he breezed by, heading straight for his office and stowing the back in the bottom drawer of his desk. 

Derek had spent the rest of the day grinning, much to the perplexity of his co-workers.  But their teasing couldn't rattle him.  He'd finally found love, he knew, and it had been more of a gift than he'd ever expected.  There was nothing that would make him give it up.  He couldn't wait to see Ruth again, this time with the ring in tow. 

* * *

As soon as the words had flown from her lips, Ruth wished she could snatch them from the ocean-scented air and stuff them back down her own throat.  She felt her eyes widen in horror as his confusion yielded to comprehension.

“
Tested,” Derek said, voice flat.  “You want me to get tested for STDs.”

“
That's not what I meant to say.”  The words sounded weak and reedy even to her own ears, tossed about on the wind.  She tasted the tang of panic infiltrating her mouth.

“
I can get tested,” he said, shrugging.  “I don't care about that.  But it sounds like what you're really saying is that you're not into me.”  In one smooth motion he snapped the ring box closed and stuffed it back in his pocket, turning on his heel and striding back toward the hotel arch.

Ruth stood motionless, her insides in tumult as she watched Derek stalk away.  At last something broke in her and she dashed after him, shouting, “Wait!  Please!”

At her cry, he turned, his usually golden skin uncharacteristically pale, his lips set into a thing line.  “What.”  The word was not a question.             

“
That's not what I meant to say,” she repeated as she ran up, hair whipping around her face. 

“
So what did you mean to say?”

“
Well . . . that the ring is beautiful, for one thing,” she replied, smiling apologetically.  “I mean, I've never imagined what kind of engagement ring I might like, but if I had . . . it would have looked a lot like the one you chose.”

Derek's mouth softened a little.  “When I saw it, I knew, somehow, that it wasn't meant for any other finger than yours.”

Ruth wanted to melt, to actually disintegrate into a puddle of lovestruck guts right there on the wharf.  “That's amazing.”

“
Was that all you had to say?” said Derek.  “Because I'm still not hearing anything like a 'yes.'”

She sighed.  “Derek, I so want to say yes.  Desperately, really,” she said, realizing the truth of her words as she voiced them.  “But it feels so fast, you know?”

“
I know,” he agreed.  “But I also know that this thing between us, it's just
right
.  Don't you feel that, too?”  Ruth felt as if he was looking down into her soul with those amazing blue eyes of his.  She sighed again, this time a swooning sort of breath.

“
I do feel it,” she whispered, reaching out to tug at one of the buttons on his jacket.  “I do.”

“
But . . . ?”

She shook her head.  “We've only known each other a few days!  How do I know that this rightness you feel won't wear off in a week or a month or a year?  That you won't miss your wandering ways?  Because I will
not
tolerate being a trophy wife to you or any man who intends on having a string of affairs.”

“
I know that there's no logic I can present to convince you, Ruth,” said Derek, brushing a thumb across her face, making her tremble.  “All I can say is – I love you.  I love
you
.  I don't know why, or even how, but I do.  And it's enough to make me give up any other way of living.  Forever.”

“
How can you make promises of forever?” she asked, forehead furrowing.  “I mean, I can't even promise you what I'll eat for breakfast tomorrow.”

“
But can you promise me that you'll always be true to me?” he asked. 

“
Well, yes, of course,” she said, as if it was obvious. 

“
I am promising from the some place you are.  Even if my past doesn't give you much proof of fidelity . . . I am still promising you from the deepest parts of myself.”  Derek's voice came quiet and soft now, thin plumes of hurt tendriling through his words.  “Depths I didn't know existed until I met you.”

“
Oh,” Ruth breathed, both worries and words fading, failing, at his reply. 

“
You have changed me.  You are changing me.  And not because you treated me like a project,” he continued.  “I'm not changing begrudgingly.  Knowing you makes me
want
to be better.  Knowing you makes me better, period.”

“
But . . . maybe this is just a sort of reversed Florence Nightingale effect, then,” she murmured, not truly believing her own words, but feeling she had to protest nonetheless, “and you'll forget me as soon as I'm not around anymore, or things get hard, or –”

“
I don't think you were hearing me earlier,” Derek said with a smile, taking her chin gently in his fingers and tilting her head up toward him.  “I can't stop thinking about you, even when I want to, when I need to.”                           

“
And getting engaged will help with that how?”

“
I'll know that no other eligible bachelor will snap you up.”

“
You trust me so little?” she murmured, raising an eyebrow. 

“
I love you so much,” he teased back, and then his lips were on hers, hard and insistent and yet somehow gentle.  She wound her arms about his neck, lacing her finger into his thick hair, pulling his head down toward her, their kiss growing in intensity and insistence.  She felt as if their two was becoming one with each other, with the swell of the harbor waves and the sighing of the insatiable wind.

When their kiss broke, Ruth tucked herself into his chest and pulled his arms around her.  The box bearing the ring, she saw, was still clutched by one of his hands.  Smiling up at him, she plucked the box from his fingers and opened it. 

The glimmering of the exquisite ring made her breath catch.  “It really is perfect,” she breathed, taking the ring and sliding it onto her finger.  “And it fits  How in the world did you manage that?”

Derek shook his head.  “I didn't manage anything.  Like I said, I knew the ring was for you, so I bought it.”

“
You didn't guess at sizing it or anything?” she gasped.

“
Nope,” he replied, smiling.  “It looks like I was right – this ring really was made for you.”

“
It's amazing,” she said, extending her hand so she could admire the ring.

Derek squeezed her gently.  “So . . . is this a 'yes'?” 

“
It's . . . a maybe,” she managed.  “As long as I get to keep wearing the ring while I decide for sure.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, smile gleaming brighter.  “That sounds suspiciously like a 'yes,' you know.”