[It’s impossible to be ready. As soon as Aubrey reads the question her hands clasp, the right pinching and rubbing at that “ring.” She’s still not sure if this is a reassuring gesture or not; it happens all the same.

[She stares down at it.] I… don’t know…?

[A compulsion; Aubrey folds, before it can get worse.]

I think I already am. However much that matters here— I mean, this wasn’t random.

[More, demands the universe.]

He said, “Marry me.”

[Nothing about how she says this implies it was a loving thing.]