Chapter 54

Three. That was the number of men Gabriel almost fired for hitting on me during my first week of work. They didn't actually "hit on" me. One simply asked if I wanted to grab drinks after work; it seemed friendly, and several colleagues might have joined us.

I declined because Mike was already smirking and heading toward Gabriel's office. It was all part of a silly bet Mike and Benny made about Gabriel's reaction if someone bothered me, or worse, hit on me.

Eye roll.

They found immense amusement in their boss being "whipped," as they put it. Gabriel didn't fire them—he couldn't risk a wrongful termination lawsuit. Instead, he buried them in paperwork, ensuring they wouldn't leave the office for at least a week.

That weekend, the rings arrived. My impulsive jewelry shopping spree had culminated in thirty diamond rings sitting on our dresser Sunday morning.

Thirty. Diamond. Rings.

I hadn't worn my wedding ring since removing it, and had no intention of putting it back on after learning its history.

"Which one do you like?" he asked, as if I had much choice.

"All," I replied, sitting on his bed—ours now—and crossing my legs.

"Choose one, Freckles."

"You choose."

He stood, picked up a couple of ring boxes, and placed them on the bed. He sat across from me. "I narrowed it down to five. Now pick one."

I shook my head. "You pick," I emphasized. "It's a replacement for my wedding ring, and I don't want to choose it myself."

His expression softened, and he began examining the rings. They were all beautiful, and he took an annoyingly long time to decide. Midway through, he retrieved more rings from the side table, eventually considering eight.

I hid a smile, watching his furrowed brow. Finally, he picked one. "This."

I peered into the box, but he held it close.

"Show me!"

"No. Let me." He removed the ring and asked for my hand. I offered it, and he slipped a ring I hadn't seen onto my finger. It featured two pear-shaped diamonds nearly touching, with a diamond band. It complemented my wedding band perfectly.

This ring was far simpler than my last, yet somehow felt more mine.

I looked up at Gabriel, surprised. "I haven't seen this one before. We didn't buy this together."

"I placed an order two weeks ago when you left for your grandpa's," he said carefully, avoiding mention of Lily's ring or the kidnapping. In retrospect, I was glad; thinking about it brought on a wave of anxiety.

I blinked. "Then why did you take so long to choose it?"

"Because those idiots sent it with all the other rings."

"So… you didn't remember which ring you chose for me?"

"What? Of course not! Do you think I have the memory of an Alzheimer's patient?" He scowled, offended.

I was even more confused.

Reading my expression, he added, "I just wasn't sure if I should go with that one because it's a lot simpler than the others we chose."

"Oh." Realization dawned, and I fought a smile, and the urge to kiss him. "I think this ring suits me better than the extravagant ones. It's perfect. Thank you."

His smile mirrored mine. "Wait, does that mean I have thirty-one rings now?"

"Yup," a mischievous glint in his eyes. "For the months with thirty-one days."

My jaw dropped. "Thirty-two, if you count my old wedding ring—in a drawer, wrapped in plastic, with a note saying, 'It was always yours.'"

Holy shit.

Then, another thought struck me. "Wait! Is this all that was delivered?"

"Yeah," Gabriel leaned back, his eyes on me. "Why? Are you unhappy? Do you want to pick some new ones?"

"No, no," I hastily replied, cutting him off. ".I had ordered a ring for you too."

He raised an eyebrow.

I finished sheepishly, "I had ordered a ring for you, too."

"No, I was only charged for these rings."

My cheeks burned. I didn't answer, letting him figure it out.

"Wait, you paid for it with your money?"

I nodded.

"Freckles… what?" His lips parted; he sat up straight, his full attention on me, eyes narrowed.

"I just wanted to… okay?"

"No. Your money is yours."

"And yours is yours."

"My money is ours. Yours is yours… to save and do whatever you want with it. Not to be used on me."

"I wanted to," I huffed, slightly annoyed. "Your family helped pay for your ring at our wedding. To be honest, I couldn't afford a good one then. I can now. Let me, okay?"

"No." He frowned. "And while we're at it, I haven't seen any transactions on my Amex card. When did you last use it?"

I looked sheepish. "When I bought that Hermès bag for your mom!"

"You haven't used it in four months?"

I shook my head.

"How are you covering your expenses?"

"I don't have any," I shrugged. "My wardrobe's full. What would I spend on?"

"I don't know. Whatever girls spend on? Hair and beauty products, I guess?"

"I have everything I need."

"Freckles."

"Gabriel," I mimicked his firm tone.

"I gave it to you for a reason. Use it. If you don't, I'll open a new account, put money in it, and give you a card." He warned.

"Is that supposed to be a punishment?" I grinned. "That sounds like a reward."

"Okay then. We're doing it."

"I was joking," I giggled. "I'll try to find a reason to use it."

"By not donating to any more charities and pampering yourself instead."

My eyes widened. "You know about the donations?"

"I know everything," he smirked. "Do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

"Good," he smiled. "I'll call the jeweler tomorrow about your ring. Come here so I can see it on your finger."

I scooted closer, and he kissed my knuckles. In moments like these, the small, intimate ones, my fear of losing him was reflected in his eyes. These were real moments; we were real.