FORTY-SEVEN

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"Morning, fiancée," Nick whispers. His blonde curls bob as he lifts his head, and as much as I want to turn him over and leap on him, I'm waiting for the bubble to burst and the residue of truth to pour over him about today. I don't know how to act; do I act as if today isn't his late sister's birthday? Do I mention it first? Or do I give him what I bought for her grave or wait for him to mention it?

"Morning, fiancé," I reply before planting an innocent kiss on his lips. He chuckles in that husky, still-half-asleep tone and shifts, so he's using my chest as a pillow. Usually, I'd kick him off, but he lifts my hand and inspects the ring.

The morning light that's slithering through the curtains hits the diamonds clustered on my finger. It's not modest by any means: a massive what they call 'cushion cut halo' ring with white diamonds surrounding a yellow diamond in the centre. They dance on the ceiling when I put them in the sunlight. The band of the ring has tiny white diamonds that shine in my eyes when I look. I researched after we celebrated last night; it's a Tiffany ring, and I know he paid over-the-top amounts for it. I also know exactly why he chose this ring, and it makes my heart race at the thought of it.

"How did you even afford this, Nick?"

He chuckles. "You mean how did we afford it, my daisy?"

"Had we better merge money now, is that what you're saying?" I snort.

"Well, I mean, we can get a joint account if you want. I don't really mind," he admits. "But your point: I have money saved up. I was saving for a house of my own, like a proper house with two stories and a garden. But I thought this was more important to me! There's still enough left, but we might have to live here for another year or two before we can grow daisies of our own."

"You think I haven't noticed how the ring is like—"

"A daisy," we say together. The way the yellow diamond in the centre is surrounded by clear diamonds is obvious.

"A daisy, for my daisy!" He's so proud of himself, and it shows in the way he beams at me and twists the ring around my finger. "An expensive and permanent daisy, but it's a daisy nonetheless."

"I love you so much," I whisper.

"I love you too, my daisy. My mum's going to murder me for not waiting till later, but I just couldn't."

"That's you, though – can never be patient," I point out.

He just laughs, and it's like angels singing when he does it.

I sigh and decide to raise it myself, now he's started talking about the day ahead: "Okay, so... I've never been faced with something like this before, so I didn't know what to do or whether to do anything or... yeah. So, wait there."

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