Vivienne's POV
I drove to her house that same night.
Not because I had planned to. Not because it was late and the sensible thing was to call and tell her over the phone and drive over in the morning when we were both rested and the news had settled into something less immediate.
I drove because I needed to see her face.
And because some things belonged to certain places and this one belonged to that kitchen.
....
The ring caught the light from the dashboard as I drove.
I kept seeing it in my peripheral vision. Small flashes of warm gold at the edge of my sight. I had looked at it properly twice at red lights, full stops where I could bring my hand up and look at it without losing the road, and both times it had produced the same response. The specific and quiet disbelief of somethi
