I felt terribly awkward a few days later, having coffee with Rob in a trendy cafe near the center of the city.

“They asked you about a ring?”

“Of course,” I said, trying not to let my embarrassment show. “When you get engaged, it’s the first thing everyone asks.”

Rob nodded. He put his hand on mine and his touch felt foreign to me. I was marrying a stranger.

“Well, I suppose they’re right.”

“Really?” I said, surprised he was agreeing.

“You should have an engagement ring, Lacey. You should find one you like.”

“Find one?”

“Yeah, go to a few jewelry stores, see what’s available. Tell me what you find.”

I thought about it. I supposed it was a nice gesture. Usually, the man would present the ring he’d chosen to the bride, but I wondered if these days it was more common for the bride to choose her own ring.

“I guess I could go look at some.”

“Yeah. Come back and tell me what you like.”

“Don’t you want to come with me?”

“I’d love to, Lacey, but I’m so swamped at work right now.”

Rob’s phone started ringing. I saw Cassie’s name flash across the screen before he rejected the call.

“You can answer if you want,” I said.

“No, no,” he said. “It’s just a buddy from the gym. I’ll call him back later.”

“A buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“A guy?”

“Yeah.”

Rob didn’t realize I’d noticed Cassie’s name. I thought about telling him I’d seen it. I wondered why he would lie about that. He worked with Cassie. There was nothing wrong with her calling him. Or was there?

Instinctively I forced myself to stop thinking about the possibilities. I’d been cheated on before. I was an expert at ignoring the signs.

“Well,” Rob said, after finishing the last of his coffee. “I’d better get back to the office. You go look at some rings and let me know what you find.”

“Sure,” I said.

He put some money on the table for the coffees and got up to leave.

“I love you,” I said, quietly as he left.

I wasn’t sure if he heard me or not. He didn’t respond.

The jewelry district wasn’t far from the cafe and I decided to go right there. I knew Rob wasn’t going to get me a ring unless I pushed for it, and I couldn’t go on facing Faith and the brothers without one.

Not having it was a constant reminder I was getting married to a man who wasn’t passionate enough about me to make the financial commitment. I caught a cab to Goldman’s, the largest and oldest of the city’s classic jewelers.

As I walked through the ornate, art deco doors, I felt a pang of nervousness. Goldman’s was one of those old institutions that oozed luxury, status, and prestige. A man in a classic suit approached me.

“Can I help you, madam?”

“Yes,” I said, a little uncertain of myself. “I’d like to look at your engagement rings.”

“Engagement rings?”

“Yes. You do sell them, don’t you?”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s just, usually it’s men who come to look at them.”

“My fiancé sent me to see what I like.”

“I see,” he said, but I could tell he disapproved slightly of the break from tradition.

“I mean, unless you have a problem with that,” I added.

“A problem, madam?”

“You seem displeased at the prospect of a woman selecting her own engagement ring.”

The man looked over his shoulder at the manager, an elegant woman with white hair standing behind a case of diamond encrusted tiaras.

“I’m here to help you in whatever way you wish,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said, but it was too late. I didn’t want him to show me the rings anymore. I’d already felt self-conscious being there without Rob, forced to pick out my own ring. The last thing I needed was this clerk making me feel bad for it.

“You know what?” I said, deciding to finally take a stand for myself. I knew it was Rob I should have been standing up to, but I was too weak to stand up to him. Instead, I was going to take it out on this clerk.

“Yes, madam?”

“I think I’d prefer to be assisted by the lady,” I said, indicating the manager.

The clerk hesitated, looked at me, and then went over to the manager and told her I required her assistance.

The woman was every bit as stiff and formal as the man had been, but she at least understood the delicateness of my situation and treated me with a little more sympathy.

“May I help you?” she said, approaching from around the counter.

“Yes, I’d like to be shown your engagement rings.”

“Of course,” she said, leading me over to a glass counter with a seat in front of it.

I sat on the chair and she took her position on the other side of the case.

“Is the ring for yourself?” she said.

I nodded.

“I see, and will your fiancé be arranging for payment or will you be paying yourself?”

“Do women buy their own engagement rings these days?” I asked.

The lady’s face betrayed no emotion, no judgement. She said simply, “Our clients find themselves in all sorts of situations. Sometimes the bride-to-be will come in and buy her own ring, just to avoid embarrassment.”

“You mean the embarrassment of marrying a man who’s not willing to buy her a diamond.”

The lady nodded.

“I suppose, sometimes, the men don’t have the money for a ring,” I said.

“Exactly,” the woman said diplomatically. “They can be very expensive.”

“Well, I do think my fiancé will be paying for my ring,” I said, although I wasn’t a hundred percent certain of that fact. “He just wants me to choose one I like so he doesn’t waste his money.”

“Very well,” she said. “And do you have any idea what you’re looking for?”

“Something classic,” I said. “Traditional. A single diamond.”

“A solitaire.”

“Yes.”

“An excellent choice,” she said. “And I hope you won’t mind me enquiring as to the budget you’re working with.”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Can I look without knowing the budget.”

“Certainly,” she said, “but when it comes to diamond rings, they’re all almost identical apart from the price of the diamond. If you want to spend ten thousand, I’ll show you stones in that price range, if you want to spend less, I can show you smaller stones, if you want to spend significantly more, we have larger diamonds of course.”

“I see,” I said, my face getting red with embarrassment. “I suppose it really is something he should be here for, isn’t it?”

“In my experience,” the lady said, “the process goes smoothest when the person paying for the ring is present, and they know what budget they’re working with.”

“I see, and what are the cheapest diamond engagement rings you have?” I said, my voice cracking with embarrassment.

The woman didn’t miss a beat. “For a real diamond, we could probably find something very small for about two thousand dollars. But it would be a very tiny diamond. A symbol.”

“But the ring is supposed to be a symbol, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course.”

I looked at her. “And what would you consider a more average price range?”

“Well, our store has a very good reputation,” she said. “Others might be cheaper, but here I would consider ten thousand to be a good budget to get a nice sized stone, good quality, good color.”

“Ten thousand?”

“Ten to twenty thousand.”

“Twenty?”

She nodded. “They’re not cheap, I know. That’s why usually the man comes in by himself and picks out something he knows he can afford. Sending the woman can be dangerous.”

“Why’s that?”

The woman pulled out a drawer and unlocked the glass cover over it. Beneath the glass were a number of velvet-lined compartments, each containing a stunning engagement ring.

“These rings range between a hundred and two-hundred thousand dollars,” she said.

“They’re beautiful,” I said.

“They’re the finest diamonds you’ll find in the country. They’ve all been individually purchased by our dealer in Amsterdam. They’re world-class.”

“And women pick out these for themselves?”

“Yes,” the lady nodded. “But only when they’re here without the man. Men never select these.”

“Why do they choose them?” I said, eyeing the glittering rocks.

“My opinion,” the lady said, giving me a serious look, “they want to punish their fiancé for something.”

“Like what?”

“There’s really only one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Infidelity.”

“Infidelity?” I said. In my mind I saw Cassie’s name flash across Rob’s phone. Was he cheating on me already? He’d only just proposed. We weren’t even married yet.

“I see,” I said. I looked carefully at the selection of rings. They were beautiful, but their prices were simply outrageous. No diamond in the world was worth more than the annual salary of the average person. “Which one is most expensive?” I asked.

The woman picked up a two carat, perfect clarity, white diamond ring. This diamond came from Namibia. It was sold to us at a special auction four years ago in Antwerp. Buyers came from all over the world to bid for it.”

“How much is it?” I said.

“Two-ninety-five.”

“Plus tax?”

“Well, you’d buy it through our intermediary in the Cayman Islands.”

I opened my purse and pulled out Rob’s card. “These are my fiancé’s details,” I said. “Can you have someone contact him and tell him I’ve selected this diamond.”

The woman smiled at me. “You’re looking to send him a message?” she said.

I nodded. “Yes I am. Do you think he’ll hear it?”

“Loud and clear,” the lady said, a broad grin stretching across her face.