“Maybe... maybe you should-” my mind halts my thoughts. Maybe you should consider your other options. 

“Maybe I should what, Liz?” He asks, turning to smile at me while we stare at the precious stone that lays on the counter. It’s gorgeous actually, physically dynamic in it’s own way. I’ve actually never seen anything like it before. 

The stone itself is a round cut diamond, about four carats, and around it he plans on having interlocking triangle trivet diamonds, increasing the width of those for every ten years that he believes they’ll stay together. 

He’s buying her something like this because deep down inside he believes that Lauren will be impressed by his creativity and the sheer size of the stone itself, he wouldn’t be wrong. What he can’t seem to understand is that anything less than five carats to Lauren is completely unacceptable for somebody who is dating the biggest celebrity of all time. 

Tell him, you moron. My mind chides in to my thoughts as my jaw seems to regain it’s natural structure after he first dragged me along with him to this store. 

“Liz, maybe I should what?” He questions again. 

Tell him you fucking moron, tell him! I tell my mind to shutup, “I mean, are you sure a round cut is what she’s going to want, I thought she was a fan of the square.”

He looks at the stone quizzically, considering his options. Price of course is no object to him but he wants nothing less than perfect for the supposed love of his life. 

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right, we can always change that later though, right?” The clerk nods, simply in awe of the fact that Justin Timberlake is in a Tiffany’s actually purchasing an engagement ring hours before Christmas Day. He’s specifically requested the store, at eleven at night open only for the two of us. The windows all are covered by the signature color curtains and Tiny is sitting in a stool across from us, shaking his head back and forth every time I go to look at him. 

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, and as usual when I’m with Justin, I ignore it, knowing it’s probably an unimportant text. The phone continues to persistently buzz and I look at the caller ID to which I flash to Justin. 

“Don’t say anything,” he commands and like his own personal slave, I have intentions of obeying, no matter who it betrays.

“Hey Trace,” I mumble onto the speaker. 

“Hey Liz-bo!” The greeting although, classless yet so Trace, doesn’t have the ability to alter my mood in the least. “What chu’ up to?” He questions.

“I’m just hanging out,” I state, lies implied at the way my voice shakes as I talk to Justin and my best friend. 

I watch Justin continue to speak to the clerk who has begun to secure the ring into the blue box with a ribbon on top. I can faintly hear Trace in the phone as I feel myself screaming at me. I know this is wrong, I feel it in every part of my body, the puzzle pieces just don’t fit. I haven’t figured this jigsaw out, but something about this just doesn’t seem right. 

“... I mean I don’t know if you’re busy, and if you are that’s totally cool. But I don’t know, I just kind of figured we should talk about this Lauren chick. I don’t like her at all, Liz. I really don’t feel good about it.” The word Lauren wakes me up from my trance. 

“Wait, what Trace?” 

“This bitch, Liz, I don’t like her at all. It’s time we get rid of her, Liz-Ace style.” 

I laugh at his inability to craft slick nicknames, but also his ability to read girls for his best friend almost as well as I can. “And what if we can’t, Trace? Then what?”

“Oh we will. We have to, long before he decides to buy a ring. After that, Liz, the deal’s sealed, it’s all over,” I see the clerk handing Justin the box and I feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. 

“Trace, I’ll have to call you back.” I turn to Justin, who looks like the happiest man on earth. I turn to Justin, telling him goodbye. “J, best of luck, Merry Christmas. I’ll see you at Lynn’s tomorrow?”

I practically run to my car, only to be stopped by Tiny who I could have sworn was still sitting in the store. 

“You know it don’t have to be like this.” The large man says looking down to me. 

“Yes,” I quip through the tears, “yes it does. Because he has to be happy and I won’t refuse him of that.”

“Elizabeth use your God given smarts. That boy is blinded by something that ain’t there. You got to do something before it’s too late or you’ll have nobody to blame but yo-self.” Knowing of who is on his way down the stairs, he lets go of his strong hold on my shoulders and allows me to pass as the tears begin to flow more freely. 

I run to the car and before the car door is even fully closed, I’ve drove off into the darkness. It’s cold and bleak, like the feeling that resounds throughout my body right now. I can’t stop the tears from falling because I know that I can’t stop myself from loving somebody that I know will never truly love me back. 

I pull into Trace’s driveway, afraid of the reaction he may have to my news. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, I’ll just disappoint Justin beyond belief. I stay in the car, thinking through my decision to come here over and over. I hear the pounding on the car window and I don’t turn to look, just unlock the door, I continue to feel the strain on my heart as Trace repeatedly asks what’s wrong.

“He..” I start, but can’t seem to finish. I yank my phone from the cup holder, trying to find the strength to speak the words that refuse to come from my mouth. 

“He what, Liz? He what? What did he do?”

“Liz, you gotta tell me what he did.”

I can’t take the strain anymore and I cry out, “He bought her a ring! He did it tonight but he wouldn’t let me tell you. He made me come with him because he cares so much about my opinion.”

“Come on,” Trace states, fuming, pulling me out of the car, “we’ve got work to do.”