Chapter 9 - The Ring He Wasn’t Supposed to BuyTheo bought the engagement ring twenty-seven days before Clare returned permanently from Paris.
He had no intention of proposing immediately.
That distinction mattered.
At least to him.
Owen disagreed.
“You bought a ring.”
“Yes.”
“That is generally step one of proposing.”
“I’m planning.”
“You’ve been dating less than a year.”
“I’ve known her twenty-four years.”
“You ignored her for most of those.”
“Very helpful.”
They sat inside a private room at a jeweler where Theo had spent nearly two hours rejecting diamonds because none seemed right.
The salesperson had wisely stopped offering opinions.
Owen held up the ring Theo finally selected.
It was elegant.
Not enormous.
That had required restraint.
A central oval diamond surrounded by tiny stones, mounted on a thin platinum band.
“Clare would like this.”
Theo took it back immediately.
“Don’t touch it.”
Owen stared.
“You invited me here for advice.”
“Not fingerprints.”
“You need therapy.”
“Possibly.”
Theo placed the ring inside the box.
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Christmas?”
“Too obvious.”
“New Year’s?”
“Worse.”
“Her birthday?”
“No.”
“The pool?”
Theo paused.
Owen pointed at him.
“Oh, God. You considered the pool.”
“It’s meaningful.”
“You already used the pool for the first kiss.”
“It deserves multiple uses.”
Owen groaned.
“Please do not make my parents’ pool the central romantic landmark of your relationship with my sister.”
Theo smiled.
“No promises.”
The ring went into Theo’s office safe.
He told no one else.
Naturally, Clare found out within two weeks.
Not because Theo confessed.
Because his mother could not keep secrets when excited.
Clare had returned to Chicago for the final stage of Maison Beaumont negotiations. She was having lunch with Theo’s mother when the older woman casually said, “I’m so relieved he chose something tasteful.”
Clare stopped lifting her fork.
“What?”
Theo’s mother froze.
“Oh.”
“What did he choose?”
“Nothing.”
“That was the least convincing nothing I’ve ever heard.”
“Clare.”
“What did Theodore choose?”
His mother looked physically pained.
“I promised.”
“Promised what?”
Silence.
Clare’s heart began beating harder.
No.
Impossible.
“Is it jewelry?”
Theo’s mother closed her eyes.
Clare dropped her fork.
“Oh my God.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
“You absolutely told me.”
“I said nothing specific.”
“Is Theodore buying an engagement ring?”
“I cannot answer that.”
“That’s yes.”
“Clare.”
Clare stood.
“I need air.”
“Please don’t tell him I said anything.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“That seems excessive.”
Clare walked outside.
An engagement ring.
Theo was planning to propose.
Her immediate reaction should have been joy.
Some of it was.
A huge, overwhelming wave.
Then came terror.
Marriage.
Ashford.
Public life.
Family expectations.
Her career.
Children someday.
Everything they had only begun learning how to balance.
She loved Theo.
There was no question.
But was she ready?
Clare did what she always did when emotionally overwhelmed.
She called Owen.
He answered.
“Hey.”
“Your best friend bought a ring.”
Silence.
“Owen.”
“I have no knowledge of illegal activities.”
“You went with him.”
“How do you know that?”
“I didn’t until now.”
“Damn it.”
Clare closed her eyes.
“You’re both idiots.”
“He isn’t proposing tomorrow.”
“You know that?”
“Yes.”
“He said he’s planning.”
“That does not make me feel better.”
“Why?”
Clare sat on a bench.
“I don’t know.”
“You love him.”
“Yes.”
“You want a future.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to marry him?”
The question was too direct.
Clare whispered, “Yes.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The scale of it.”
“What scale?”
“Being his wife.”
Owen became quiet.
Clare continued.
“It sounds ridiculous.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I know Theodore. I love Theodore. But Theodore Ashford is… something bigger.”
“That’s not actually him.”
“It’s part of him.”
“Yes.”
“I’m scared I’ll lose myself.”
Owen sighed.
“You’ve already had this fight.”
“I know.”
“And?”
“And he listened.”
“Then maybe marriage doesn’t automatically change that.”
Clare stared at the people passing on the sidewalk.
“Do not tell him I know.”
“Absolutely.”
“Owen.”
“I mean it.”
“You’re terrible at secrets.”
“So is Mom.”
“She isn’t my mother.”
“You know what I mean.”
Clare returned to lunch and pretended nothing had happened.
That evening, when Theo picked her up, she studied him differently.
His hands.
His face.
The man she might marry.
He noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That is suspicious.”
She kissed him quickly.
“Drive.”
Theo looked confused but obeyed.
For three days, Clare behaved strangely.
Theo noticed everything.
She stared at his left hand.
She asked hypothetical questions about marriage during breakfast.
She casually mentioned prenups.
Then she asked whether he wanted children while he was brushing his teeth.
Theo nearly swallowed toothpaste.
He called Owen immediately afterward.
“She knows.”
Owen pretended ignorance for exactly eleven seconds.
Then confessed.
“My mother told her.”
Theo closed his eyes.
“My mother.”
“She accidentally implied something.”
“I told her not to tell anyone.”
“She didn’t technically.”
“Owen.”
“She said you chose something tasteful.”
Theo dropped into his chair.
“Why would she say that?”
“Because she’s Mom.”
Theo looked at the safe.
The proposal was ruined.
No.
Not ruined.
The surprise was ruined.
Maybe that was useful.
Clare clearly needed time.
Theo made a decision.
That evening, he arrived at Clare’s apartment carrying nothing.
No flowers.
No dramatic gesture.
Clare opened the door.
“You look serious.”
“We need to talk.”
Her eyes widened.
“That phrase should be illegal.”
He stepped inside.
They sat on the couch.
Theo took a breath.
“You know about the ring.”
Clare’s face went blank.
“What ring?”
“Clare.”
She lasted four seconds.
“Your mother is terrible at secrets.”
“Yes.”
“And Owen is worse.”
“I know.”
“You bought an engagement ring.”
“I did.”
Her breathing changed.
Theo immediately continued.
“I am not proposing tonight.”
Relief appeared.
Then Clare looked guilty about feeling relieved.
Theo noticed.
“That’s why we’re talking.”
“Theo—”
“No. I need to know something before I ever ask.”
He took her hand.
“Do you want me to ask someday?”
Clare looked at him.
No escape.
No jokes.
Truth.
“Yes.”
Theo exhaled slowly.
“But?”
“I’m scared.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
“Marriage?”
“Partly.”
“My family?”
“Definitely.”
He smiled faintly.
“Understandable.”
Clare squeezed his hand.
“I’m scared of becoming Mrs. Theodore Ashford and waking up one day wondering where Clare Montgomery went.”
Theo’s smile disappeared.
“She doesn’t go anywhere.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“I can guarantee I don’t want her to.”
Tears appeared in Clare’s eyes.
“I worked so hard to become myself.”
“I know.”
“And I love you so much that sometimes it scares me.”
Theo understood more than she realized.
“Do you think I’m not scared?”
She blinked.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
“You’ll wake up and decide loving me costs too much.”
Clare stared.
“Theo.”
“You think I don’t know what comes with my life?”
His voice remained calm, but vulnerable.
“Photographers. Board politics. Caroline. People questioning your motives. People questioning your work. Every mistake becoming public.”
He looked down at their hands.
“Sometimes I think loving me is unfair to you.”
Clare’s heart broke slightly.
“That isn’t your decision.”
“I know.”
“Just like my career isn’t yours.”
“I know.”
“Then maybe we’re both still learning.”
Theo nodded.
“Probably.”
Clare smiled through tears.
“Keep the ring.”
His head lifted.
“What?”
“Keep it.”
His heart visibly stopped.
“But don’t ask yet.”
Theo smiled slowly.
“Okay.”
“I want to finish Paris.”
“Yes.”
“I want us to live in the same city again for more than five minutes.”
“Reasonable.”
“And I want to know what marriage would actually look like.”
“We can decide together.”
“Not Ashford tradition.”
“No.”
“Not your aunt’s expectations.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Not society pages.”
“No.”
“Us.”
Theo lifted her hand and kissed it.
“Us.”
Clare breathed easier.
“Good.”
Theo leaned closer.
“So hypothetically—”
“No.”
“I haven’t asked anything.”
“You’re about to discuss proposal preferences.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m not helping you plan my own proposal.”
“Information improves execution.”
“Theodore.”
“Fine.”
She laughed.
He pulled her onto his lap.
For the next hour they discussed marriage without discussing a wedding.
Careers.
Where they would live.
Whether Clare would keep her apartment.
“Yes,” Theo said immediately.
She stared.
“You don’t want me to move in?”
“I do.”
“Then why keep it?”
“Because you love that apartment.”
Clare became unexpectedly emotional.
“You remember?”
“You built your first independent life there.”
Theo touched her cheek.
“If one day you want to sell it, fine. But I’m not asking you to erase it to prove commitment.”
Clare kissed him.
They discussed children.
Theo wanted them.
Clare did too.
Not immediately.
They discussed money.
Theo insisted on a prenup protecting Clare’s company and intellectual property.
Clare stared.
“You want a prenup?”
“I want nobody ever saying you stayed because leaving would cost you.”
That sentence nearly destroyed her.
They discussed names.
“I’m keeping Montgomery professionally,” Clare said.
“I assumed.”
“Personally maybe Montgomery-Ashford.”
Theo smiled.
“That sounds good.”
“You’d take Montgomery-Ashford?”
He blinked.
“That wasn’t part of the hypothetical.”
“Why not?”
“Theodore Montgomery-Ashford sounds like a nineteenth-century duke.”
Clare laughed so hard she cried.
By midnight, the fear had not disappeared.
But it had changed.
Marriage stopped feeling like a cliff.
It began to feel like a house they could design together.
Twenty-seven days later, Clare’s Paris project officially completed.
The opening celebration filled Maison Beaumont with architects, artists, investors, journalists, and clients.
Theo stood inside the grand ballroom and watched Clare speak to a group of international designers.
She glowed.
Not because she stood beside him.
Because she belonged there.
He had never been prouder.
When she finally saw him across the room, her face lit up.
That was enough.
Clare crossed the ballroom.
“You came.”
“Obviously.”
She kissed him.
“No canceled meetings?”
“None.”
“No irresponsible flights?”
“Scheduled responsibly.”
“Good boy.”
Theo raised an eyebrow.
“Careful.”
She laughed.
Later, Elise Laurent announced that the completed renovation had received three major design nominations.
Clare cried.
Theo applauded louder than anyone.
That night, after everyone left, Clare and Theo stood alone inside the ballroom.
She looked around.
“I did this.”
Theo stood behind her.
“Yes.”
“I really did this.”
“Yes.”
She turned.
“And I’m ready to come home.”
Theo’s chest tightened.
“Good.”
She smiled.
“I missed my ugly apartment.”
“I like your apartment.”
“You called the plumbing medieval.”
“It is.”
“I missed my family.”
“They missed you.”
“I missed Chicago.”
“Questionable taste.”
“And I missed you.”
Theo pulled her closer.
“I missed you every day.”
Clare rested her forehead against his.
“Take me home, Theodore.”
He kissed her.
“With pleasure.”
In the safe inside his Chicago office, the ring waited.
Theo was patient.
May you like
For now.
But not forever.
