Rose
Rose Maguire: said yes!
The stone in my engagement ring glinted under the bright lights of the dental surgery. I allowed myself a moment to revel in it – the way it caught the light and threw it back at me – before I slipped on my latex gloves and set to work.
We’d kept it quiet for a bit – not because we weren’t happy. We were happy, deliriously so, but because Cian said it would be nicer to hold the secret just to ourselves for a while.
I’d wondered if he’d been embarrassed about my ring – even though I wasn’t, not at all. But I know he wanted to give me more than he did. The ‘diamond’ in my ring was a rather lovely cubic zirconia, which to the untrained eye would look no different, but so many people had trained eyes these days. They’d wonder whether it was a platinum or white gold setting when the truth was it was silver. It had cost a little over £100 and he had vowed, on his knee in front of me, that when times got better he would replace it with my dream ring.
I didn’t want any other ring, I told him. I was entranced by the romance of it – that this ring was all we needed to say we loved each other. It made our love purer. Didn’t it?
‘I will get you another ring,’ he had said again, a determination in his voice. ‘You deserve more.’
I thought all I needed – all I deserved – was to be with him in the room we were in, in our lives together. Our flat. Our easy existence, me going out to work, him writing. I had such faith in him that I didn’t mind paying the bills, keeping us afloat. We were a team.
But Cian? He sometimes seemed not only to be embarrassed that I was the primary breadwinner in our relationship, but even resentful about it.
‘It should be me providing for you, not the other way around.’
‘Don’t be so silly,’ I’d chided him. ‘This isn’t the 1950s. We’re in this together. It’s not like you’re not working – you’re writing a book, Cian. One I know you’ll have great success with.’
He smiled. Seemed content with my answer. ‘And when I do, I promise I’ll make all this up to you. You’ll never have to work another day in your life. I’ll take care of you. Give you everything you’ve ever wanted.’
‘I already have what I’ve always wanted,’ I told him, kissing his forehead. ‘You, my job, my friends, my family, this ring on my finger. That’s all that matters to me.’
I meant every word. Those were our happiest days, strange as it sounds. When we were struggling a little bit. When our world was small – contained. When I still thought he was a good and decent person.