Worth It (51 page)

I look at my dad and grin, and the irritation starts to fade. I’m glad I asked him to be here, too.

Zach sighs heavily through his nose, and he shakes his head. “Fine, it’s your life. I just don’t want to see you make a mistake.”

I snort and turn back to the case. “I’m not making a mistake, so shut up, and help me.”

I feel Zach and my dad approach and stand on either side of me.

“What were you thinking?” my dad asks.

I sigh and run my hand through my short black hair, feeling the irritation return. “I have no idea. I know she would want white gold, but that’s as far as I got. I figured this would be a cakewalk, but the sales guy started droning on about symbolism and cut and crap. Now, I’m drowning in information, and I have no idea what to do.”

My dad chuckles again and says, “Well, when you think of Anna, what’s the first thing that pops in your head?”

“Beautiful,” I say automatically.

Zach chimes in, “I would have said boobs. That girl has a great rack.”

I glare at Zach. “Watch it, asshole. That’s my woman you’re talking about. Quit being a dick.”

“Shit, sorry,” he apologizes quickly, holding up his hands. “I was just joking. Relax.”

I twist my lips. “You’re not helping.”

“So, beautiful. What else?” my dad interrupts, trying to steer the conversation back to where it should be.

I breathe deeply, trying to think of something to describe Anna that could also be applied to a ring. She’s smart and funny, but those wouldn’t work here. “Simple, I guess? Not like stupid, but as in low-maintenance, an understated class kind of way.”

“Good. Anything else?” my dad asks.

“Hmm…traditional fits, too, I think,” I say.

“Okay, so my take would be a round diamond with just a few side stones.” Dad stares at the case, looking at the possibilities.

I look at him sideways with a raised eyebrow.

“How the hell did you get that?” Zach asks, shocked, mirroring my thoughts.

Dad looks up at us and rolls his eyes. “It might have been a while, but I’ve done this before. You said beautiful, simple, and traditional.” He stops and points at a ring that is exactly as he described. “Look at that one—beautiful, simple, and traditional, just like you see Anna.”

I peer down at the ring he pointed out, and I swear that it stands out in a glow of light, making me think the good Lord above is saying,
This one!

I want to yell back,
Where were you an hour ago?

It’s white gold with a good-sized rock that’s about two carats if I had to guess, and it has three smaller diamonds on either side. It’s beautiful and simple, and I’m pretty sure Anna will love it.

“Unbelievable,” I breathe, stunned. “It’s perfect for her.”

My dad puts his hand on my shoulder. “Good. You should have called me earlier and saved yourself the trouble.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, I guess.”

Dad chuckles.

“Hey, sales dude!” Zach shouts. “We’re ready over here.”

“Find something you like?” the salesman asks.

“Yeah”—I point out the ring—“I’ll take that one.”

The salesman takes it out of the case, revealing the price tag.

“That’s kind of pricey, don’t you think?” Zach asks.

Yeah, this definitely has a hefty price tag for a middle-class workingman. It’s more than I have in my savings account, but I can make payments on the remaining balance. “A little, Zach, but she’s worth it.”

“How are you doing today, Anna?” Dr. Jenson asks from her office chair.

It’s been two weeks since that freaky phone call, and I haven’t heard from whoever it was again, so I’m thankful I never said anything to Jed since it turned out to be nothing.

“I’m doing fantastic.” I smile widely, and my heart swells with bliss. “I got the kindergarten job.”

Her face brightens with genuine happiness for me. “That’s wonderful news, Anna. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I beam. “It’s contingent on my graduation in three weeks, but that shouldn’t be an issue. I can’t wait to start decorating my classroom.”

“I bet.” Her face is content. “How was your vacation?”

My grin broadens, remembering my lovin’-filled mini vacay over Spring Break. “It was amazing. Jed and I rented a little cottage on the ocean down on Cape Cod.”

“It sounds like a magnificent time.”

She smiles, and my smile gets even bigger
.

If she only knew just how magnificent…

“Have you made any progress toward forgiveness?” she asks.

My mood shifts drastically with the subject change. I sigh heavily. “I’m trying, but it’s hard. It feels wrong to forgive them.”

“I know, Anna. It can be a very difficult part of the process.”

I nod.

“You’re not excusing their actions, and it does not in any way take away from the wrong that you went through. When you give forgiveness, it heals
you
, so you are able to move forward.”

I blow a breath through my lips. “I know, I know. It’s just easier said than done.”

She bobs her head up and down. “Have you tried imagery?”

I choke on laughter, remembering my absurd box-burning thoughts. “Yeah.”

She raises an eyebrow in question, so I explain my mental process that includes putting my pain and memories into a box and burning them. While I express my ridiculous imagination, her eyebrows remain skyward, and she nods thoughtfully. When I finish my explanation, her head bobs up and down faster.

“That’s precisely what I am talking about, but I want you to think about what you were doing with the box.”

My nose scrunches up. “You mean burning it?”

“Yes. What does fire represent?”

My eyes drift upward while I contemplate what fire means emotionally. “Thinking about it, I guess it means hate or rage.”

“Exactly. You can’t move forward if you are putting your pain and emotion into a fire of hatred and anger.”

I nod in understanding.
That makes sense.

“What would be another imagery you could use?”

“Hmmm,” I muse, chewing on my bottom lip in thought. “What if I put the box on a raft and let it drift out to sea?”

She puckers her lips and nods, thinking about what I said. “I want you to take something out of the box first though.”

When my brow shoots up in confusion, she continues, “I want you to take
you
out of the box first and tuck yourself into your heart.”

“What?”

“The experiences we encounter, both good and bad, shape and mold us into the people we are. Living, really living, is a blessing. You would not be the person you are, you would not have the people in your life, if it wasn’t for both the positive and negative events in your life. So, before you place that box of pain and sorrow onto that raft to let it drift away, I want you to reach in and grab you—the wonderful, beautiful you—and embrace yourself. Put you into your heart and love yourself with all you have.”

April 24th

Let go and embrace me, huh? I’m nodding in thought right now. I tried that silly imagery thing, and it does help. I can feel myself beginning to let go, starting to take each rock off my back before placing it onto that raft. I keep laughing though because it’s so damn insane when I think about it. I’ll do it though. It’ll take time, but I’ll do it. I’ll take each rock off until all I have left is me, and I’ll watch as the rocks drift away into the open sea, letting them go for good.

A month after our Cape Cod trip, I place my hand on my girlfriend’s back as we walk into the same restaurant we entered on our first date just over seven months ago. I’m praying that by the end of the night, she won’t be my girlfriend anymore. She’ll be my fiancée. I’ve watched this wonderful woman bloom over the last few months, and I love her strength, her drive, and her inner beauty. I’m so fucking proud of her. She’s accomplished so much.

She graduated yesterday, she landed her dream job as a kindergarten teacher, and she has almost completely healed herself emotionally. I know she’ll always have those scars inside her. They are a part of who she is—a fighter, a survivor—but the wounds are no longer bleeding. When we talk, she tells me that she’s still working on forgiving those monsters. I understand the logic, but I can’t say I blame her for having trouble with forgiving. I couldn’t forgive those fucktards either, and if I ever run into them, I’d probably kill them. Even though I’ve come a long way in controlling my fuse, I doubt anything would be able to stop me from ending them.

Shifting my thoughts to happier ones, I think about what I’m about to do. I knew early on that she was the one for me, the one to start a life with, the one to call my wife, but I wanted to wait until the time was right to pop the question. I figured now that she’s done with school, now is as good a time as any. I just hope I don’t fuck this up.
Don’t girls dream about this their whole lives?

I’m not going to do anything crazy, but the plan is to have the waiter bring dessert with the words,
Will you marry me?
, written in chocolate on the plate. I called the restaurant a couple of days ago to find out if they could do that.

The owner’s wife just said, “Of course we can, hon. That’s so sweet!”

So, maybe it’ll work. I have no idea what I’m going to say, but after they bring out the plate, I’ll get down on one knee and wing it.
Of course, now that I think about it, winging it doesn’t really work out for me. Crap, I should have written a speech or—

“You okay?” Anna asks, bringing me out of my panic, as I open the door for her.

“Yeah. Why?” I ask, trying to keep my cool.

“I don’t know. You seem quiet tonight,” she points out, shrugging.

Crap, I’m nervous as shit. That doesn’t even make sense. How can you be nervous as shit? Shit is an inanimate object…unless, of course, you count the bacteria, but they don’t have feelings—

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say quickly. I need to get my head in the game.

“Okay,” she drawls out the word, raising an eyebrow, as we make our way to the hostess. “Hey, do you mind if we sit at the bar?”

I want to growl at her because I had planned on a nice little cozy booth for this, and she’s messing up my plans. But the look on her face is too cute, so I plaster on a fake smile.

“Sure.”

I’ll just have to go and talk to the owner really quick, so I can tell her that we’re going to be at the bar instead. This doesn’t fuck with the plan too much, but I don’t know how romantic a proposal in the bar would be
.
Maybe I can do it later? First
things first, I need to find this lady and talk to her. She might have some advice.

Anna and I walk toward the bar, and she takes off her spring coat to reveal her sexy little outfit. A flowy, short black skirt hugs her just right, and a blue top shows off her fantastic cleavage without revealing too much. My favorite piece of her attire is her knee-high black boots. I want her to keep them on when I make love to her for the first time as my future wife. I take off my own coat and set it on the back of the stool.