Cold Feet -

“I keep them in my nightstand,” he said, not looking at her. “I don’t know why. I just… I couldn’t throw them away.”

“But I’ve been thinking,” he continued. He pulled his knees up to his chest, made himself smaller. “About the pond. The proposal. You remember?” Cold Feet

They stood up together. Mark’s hand found hers—not the ring hand, the other one, the one that had been hanging empty at her side. Their fingers laced together, hesitant at first, then tighter. “I keep them in my nightstand,” he said,

The door was still open. The light was still on. And for the first time in a long time, Emma didn’t feel like a ghost. “I keep them in my nightstand