I've Got Your Number

“Get through it?”

“That’s not what I mean.” He breathes out impatiently. “Look, come on, Poppy. The wedding’s all set up. It’s all arranged. It’s not about what happened with Lucinda, it’s about you and me. We can do it. I want to do it. I really want to do this.” He’s speaking with such fervor, I stare at him in surprise.

“Magnus—”

“Will this change your mind?” To my astonishment, he sinks down on one knee beside the sofa and reaches in his pocket. I stare speechlessly as he opens a little jewelry box. Inside is a ring made of twisted golden strands, with a tiny diamond perched at the side.

“Where … where did that come from?” I can hardly find my voice.

“I bought it for you in Bruges.” He clears his throat, as though embarrassed to admit it. “I was walking along the street one day. Saw it in a window, thought of you.”

I can’t believe it. Magnus bought a ring for me. Specially for me. I can hear Wanda’s voice in my head: When he really wants to commit to someone, he’ll find a ring for himself. He’ll choose something carefully. Give it some thought.

But I can’t relax.

“Why did you choose this ring?” I probe. “Why did it make you think of me?”

“The strands of gold.” He gives an abashed smile. “They reminded me of your hair. Not the color, obviously,” he amends quickly. “The shine.”

That was a good answer. Quite romantic. I raise my eyes and he gives me a hopeful, lopsided smile.

Oh God. When Magnus is sweet and puppy-dog like, he’s almost irrestistible.

Thoughts are still spinning round my head. So he made a mistake. A big, big mistake. Am I going to throw away everything for that? Am I so perfect myself? Let’s face it, twenty-four hours ago my arms were wrapped around another man in a wood.

I feel a tiny pang in my chest at the thought of Sam and give myself a mental shakedown. Stop. Don’t go there. I got carried away by the situation, that’s all. Maybe Magnus did too.

“What do you think?” Magnus is watching me eagerly.

“I love it,” I whisper. “It’s amazing.”

“I know.” He nods. “It’s exquisite. Like you. And I want you to wear it. So, Poppy … “ He puts his warm hand on mine. “Sweetest Poppy … will you?”

“Oh God, Magnus,” I say helplessly. “I don’t know … ” My new iPhone is flashing with messages and I pick it up to buy myself some time. There’s a brand-new email from samroxtonpa@whiteglobeconsulting.com.

My heart skips a beat. I sent Sam my new number this afternoon, just so that he had it. And at the last minute I added, Sorry about this afternoon, with a couple of kisses. Simply to clear the air. Now he’s answering me. At midnight. What does he want to say? With trembling fingers, my thoughts veering onto wild possibilities, I click on the message.

“Poppy?” Magnus sounds a little affronted. “Sweets? Could we focus?”

Sam is delighted to have received your email. He’ll get back to you as soon as he possibly can. Meanwhile, thanks for your interest.

I feel a sting of humiliation as I read the words. The brush-off email. He got his PA to send me the brush-off email.

I suddenly remember him, that time in the restaurant: You must have a brush-off email. They come in pretty useful for fending off unwanted advances too. Well, he couldn’t be any clearer than that, could he?

And now there’s more than a tiny pang in my chest—there’s a real wrenching pain. I was so stupid. What did I think? At least Magnus didn’t delude himself that he and Lucinda were anything more than a casual fling. In some ways he stayed more faithful than I did. I mean, if Magnus even knew the half of what’s been going on these last few days …

“Poppy?” Magnus is peering at me. “Bad news?”

“No.” I toss the phone onto the sofa and somehow find a dazzling smile. “You’re right. We all make stupid mistakes. We all get carried away. We all get distracted by things which aren’t … which aren’t real. But the point is … ” I’m running out of steam here.

“Yes?” prompts Magnus gently.

“The point is … you bought me a ring. Yourself.”

As I say the words, my thoughts seem to come together and consolidate into something firm. All my deluded dreams fall away. This is reality, right here in front of me. I know what I want now. I take the ring out of the box and examine it for a moment, the blood beating hard in my head. “You chose it for me yourself. And I love it. And, Magnus … yes.”

I meet Magnus’s gaze head-on, suddenly not caring about Sam, wanting to take my life forward, away from here, to somewhere new.

“Yes?” He peers at me as though not sure what he’s hearing.

“Yes.” I nod.

In silence, Magnus takes the ring from me. He lifts up my left hand and slides it onto my ring finger.

I can’t quite believe it. I’m getting married.

95 Artistic license.