Plonk.
Something falls from the shirt and to the floor. Together, we both look at the floor, and my breath catches in my chest when I see a black, velvet box.
“Ah, I wondered if he still possessed the ring he bought you,” Keiko says casually.
“The . . . the what?” I ask, looking up to her.
“The engagement ring. I attempted to convince him a check for a down payment on a house or a practical savings bond would be more appealing than a diamond to show his dedication to your amorous entanglement, but he insisted on the traditional circle of wedlock.” Keiko shrugs. “To each their own.”
“When did he get that?” I ask, pointing to the ring box on the ground.
Keiko looks to the ceiling as she thinks about her answer. “If I remember correctly, the twentieth of December. I attended the shopping adventure with him. He treated me to a slice of deep-dish pizza after. The pizza did not settle well with Blanche/Seymour, therefore, I spent the rest of the evening in the lavatory.”
“He . . . he got it before the accident?”
“Oh, yes. He intended on purchasing earlier, but due to a heavy dose of intestinal gas during that timeframe, I cancelled on him twice. From the conversation I walked in on, I dare say he has no intention of presenting it to you anymore.”
“But he was going to?” I ask.
“Naturally. He loves you. As I heard it, he wanted to give you the wedding you deserved. The engagement you deserved. He planned to bow on bended knee on Christmas Eve. Unfortunately, that did not transpire.”
I glance up at her. “He said that to you?”
Keiko adjusts her glasses. “Correct. He felt confident with our friendship to share a surprise he had planned for you. He was exuberant in expression about it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was not my position to say anything.”
“But . . . you’re telling me now.”
“Ah”—she nods—“that’s because you have very clearly now seen the ring box from your own actions and it seems there is no chance of you coupling again. Am I right?”
Stunned.
In shock.
I walk over to his bed and take a seat.
“I don’t know, Keiko. I—I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”
“Well, I dare say, I’m not proficient with emotions, but I do know sadness. You are exhibiting the classic symptoms of sadness. Are you sad?”
I nod. “I am.”
“Are you sad from Pike omitting the truth? Or are you sad because you miss him?”
I glance up at her. “Both.”
She nods. “The answer is simple, then. One can mend the trust between two humans, but one cannot mend a broken heart. You need to love yourself and trust in yourself before you can trust someone else. But you can trust that he loves you. Trust that he would do anything for you. Trust that he wants only unsurpassed conditions for you. As for your heart, that won’t be revived unless you are with the correct person. I know firsthand of this heartache. And I am conscious of the mending of a broken heart that occurs when with the love of your existence. I might not specialize in relationships, but I do know one thing . . .” She straightens her shoulders. “That man occupying the lower story of this house, he is the ‘real deal.’ He loves you exponentially, and if you leave this abode, you will be composing the most commodious inaccuracy of your life. Don’t be a nitwit, Cora.”
And with that, she turns on her heel and heads back downstairs, leaving me alone with my thoughts and with the ring box. I wrestle with her words and the therapist’s words, so alike . . .
I need to love myself before I can even consider loving someone else. Because I have a man who loves me and is waiting for my love in return. For my trust.
But it has to start with me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
PIKE
I slouch down in the cushions of the couch and pull out my mobile, which has just buzzed in my pocket. Keiko left about twenty minutes ago, claiming a craving for chocolate, and then scolding me for not having any in the house.
But first, she showed me the wedding pictures and handed me a printed one of me and her, standing awkwardly shoulder to shoulder and not smiling at the camera. She declared it one of her favorites.
We look like sociopaths.
I sent a picture of it to Killian because I knew he’d appreciate it.
Killian: That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. Keiko looks beautiful, though, even if she’s not smiling.
Pike: She really was beautiful that day.