"Could you check?" I asked, playing along.
"Of course! Give me one second." We heard movement, footsteps. "uhmm…I think it might be in the restaurant. Didn’t you take it off when you wanted to wash your hands?”
Oh my god, I love Tasha so much. She made our lies align so perfectly.
"No need," Nathan said quickly.
He grabbed my hand roughly and shoved the ring back on my finger, squeezing hard enough to hurt.
"Thank you, Tasha," my father said, ending the call. He looked at me for a long moment. "Your hair is a mess."
"Wind," I said. "Tasha's convertible."
"In November?"
"She had the heat on full blast. You know how she is."
He studied me, and I forced myself to meet his eyes. After what felt like forever, he nodded. "Inside. Both of you. We need to discuss this therapy situation."
