“Does this make you feel better, Justin?” His voice was quiet, but a little mocking, too. “The Christmas lights, the fire, the wedding rings?” He nodded at his ring, on the table.

I looked at him. “Yes.” I didn’t say anything else.

He sat down heavily on the sofa next to me, looking at his ring, and then at the fire. “I don’t understand that.”

“I know.”

He snorted. “God, I fucking hate it when you say that.”

I shrugged. “Get over it.”

He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Decided to try being a little less understanding?”

“Stop. Just stop.” I got up. I was absolutely not going to listen to this again.

Brian grabbed my left hand, and pulled me around to face him. “I’ll stop.”

I sat down and looked at him. “I don’t just mean now. This has to stop.”

He nodded. “I know.”

I laughed, and after a second, so did he, and pushed his hand through his hair again. He looked sideways at me, and bit his lip.

I took a deep breath. “Do you think it’s all romantic bullshit, Brian? The Christmas tree lights, and the wedding rings, and the fireplace?”

He shrugged but didn’t answer me.

“Because it’s all your romantic bullshit, Brian. You bought this house, you bought this fireplace, you bought the fucking firewood. You bought the Christmas tree, and the lights, and you bought these fucking rings. I never asked you for any of this. Never.”

He turned his head, and his eyes looked hurt, but I just stood up, and picked up his ring from the table. “You can tell me it’s all bullshit if you want. You can throw our rings on the floor and tell me to fuck off. Go ahead.” I started to pull my ring off, his still in my palm, and Brian grabbed my hand and stood up. He didn’t let go of my hand, just pulled it up and shoved my ring back down on my finger.

“Don’t.” He had his forehead pressed against mine, and his hand was clenching so hard on mine it hurt.

I felt tears burn in my eyes again. “Why, Brian? Why shouldn’t I? You did.”

He shook his head, and dug his ring out of my palm, and pushed it hard on the finger of his left hand. “Don’t.”

I closed my eyes, and he just pressed his forehead harder against me, and held our hands together tighter.

“Brian…”

“Justin, Justin, please… just…” and he kissed me, and I thought, sometimes there just aren’t words for everything. He broke his mouth away from mine, and let go of my hands, and brought his up to either side of my face, his fingers lacing into my hair. He kissed my forehead, and then my hair, and looked at me. “I love you.”

I stood there for a second, looking at his eyes, and then I smiled. “I know.”

He laughed, and pulled me down on the sofa, and I crawled up onto him and pushed him against the arm, and kissed him. And we didn’t fuck, or talk. We just sat there in front of the fireplace, with the bullshit romantic fire and Christmas tree lights, and our wedding rings, and held onto each other until we fell asleep.

That whole bit deserved to be quoted. It deserves to be carved onto stone tablets, actually.

You have written the most beautiful, perfect ring exchange ever. And I know how long and hard you fought with it, but take a bow, wife. You nailed it!

Brian and Justin cuddling on the couch with their fucking rings and their stupid fireplace and their lame christmas tree. That Brian fucking loves just as much as Justin does kthx. Perfection!

As always, it's the little mentions, the lights Justin was looking at earlier, both of them looking at the rings. The way they reflect light, all these things that add to the overall atmosphere of each chapter and make it special. Plus your usual hotness omg, and humour and love. I'm a happy girl whenever I read your work.

And I'm so excited for the final chapter!