He places and collects the order between glances backward that he hopes are brief enough for her to miss. This time last week they were married and he had every right in the world to mean something to her, and today she has a face like thunder because he wants a few words. A little honesty. It's hard to reconcile with the feel of her in his arms such a recent memory.

"Here." He leans over to place her cup down, the ring plain and unshowy in the saucer he sets in front of her. He leaves it there as he sits.

"I'm not holding you hostage. But I'd really prefer you didn't just walk out."