Outside in the car the numbness begins to wear off and anger takes over as her words sink in. I turn the key and the engine kicks into life, but inside I’m screaming at myself. Silent words that fill my head. ‘What are you doing? Why didn’t you just tell her how you feel?’
You’re jealous of Seth, heck, you’re even jealous of Niall, how sick is that? What else is there left to undermine your confidence and make you feel like you aren’t good enough for Elana? You’re running out of excuses, Luke, and you know it. It’s time to be the man you want to be, not the one you’re in danger of becoming if you keep hanging onto this negative self-image. Can’t you see what you are doing to yourself?
As the wheels spin off the drive, I slam a hand down onto the steering wheel with force. ‘Enough.’
How do you make up for being a total idiot, when someone feels you have hurt them in the worst possible way? And how do you make a woman like Elana hold her breath as you tell her you love her? Whatever I do has to be big, and bold, and leave her in no doubt whatsoever that I’ve always loved her, and I always will.
At work I go through the motions, a part of me wracking my brains for ideas. Then it hits me. I pick up the phone.
‘Janice, I have a few errands to run and probably won’t make it back here today. If anything urgent crops up you can get me on the mobile.’
***
I’ve never been in a jeweller’s shop on my own before and I don’t think I’ve ever been this uncomfortable, or so self-conscious. Two of the assistants are serving other customers. At the far end of the shop an older guy in a very smart suit, whom I assume is the manager, and a young sales woman are deep in conversation. They don’t appear to have noticed me. My eyes scan the cabinets and I wonder how anyone can ever make a decision when faced with this amount of choice.
‘Can I help you?’ The manager has strolled down to greet me, probably homing in on the fact that a part of me wants to turn and run.
‘I need a ring.’
‘Ah, you’ve come to the right place. Did you have any particular style in mind?’ His tone is serious and I’m relieved to see that he isn’t dismissing me as some time-waster.
‘To be very honest, I have no idea what I’m looking for, but I expect I’ll know it when I see it. She’s a very particular lady, good taste, and I’m looking for something a little different.’
‘Come this way. I’ll pull a selection and we can take it from there.’
How long does it take to choose one ring? Well, the best part of an hour, it seems. Eventually all three of the sales ladies, and the manager, help me to whittle it down to a choice of two. It’s the most expensive item I’ve ever purchased, other than the car, and it’s a tough call.
‘It’s between the French-set, split shank eighteen-carat white-gold ring and the more traditional cushion-shaped diamond-halo style. The choice is yours, sir; only you know the lady in question.’
All eyes are on me. The square one is simple and elegant, but the French-set ring is, to my eye, more romantic. It’s a statement, it’s bold and, although both rings have a one-carat stone at the centre, I can actually visualise Elana wearing this.
‘Well, I’ve made my decision and I think she’s going to love this one. Thank you all so much for your help. I was really rather clueless when I walked through the door.’
‘You are very welcome,’ one of the ladies replies, the others nodding in agreement. ‘This is a very special ring indeed and any woman would be thrilled to open a box and find it inside.’
It seems, at last, that I’m capable of making a good decision and, clearly, these ladies are impressed. As I leave the shop with it in my hand, the manager escorts me to the door.
‘Good luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it. I wish everyone who walked through this door was as sure of their intended, as you are, Sir. It would make our job so much easier.’
‘Well, if all goes well I’ll be back for the wedding ring really soon.’
He inclines his head, as I walk through the door and out into the busy street. I can do this and, what’s more, I can do it with style!