ARIA'S POV
The ring caught the light from the streetlamps on the drive home.
I kept looking at it. Not obsessively. Just the way you looked at something new on your body, registering it, checking it was still there. It was a pear-cut, simple band, sitting on my finger like it had always planned to be there.
The gala was still warm in my chest. The sales we made, Vincent's face,the room full of people who had stood in front of my work.
I was quiet on the drive.
Dominic didn't fill it. He sat beside me in the back seat and let me be quiet the way he always let me be what I was, Marcus drove, and the city moved past the windows in its usual indifferent arrangement.
We got inside at midnight.
He hung his jacket, I set my bag down, sat on the couch and looked at the ring again.
Dominic
