You plead with him to forgive you. You pour out your heart and soul, telling him you don't know how you could have been so stupid. He tries to remain rigid and stoic as you blubber away but you can see the emotion sweeping through him, his eyes give it away and his tears only reinforce it. You reach into your pocket and pull out the small velvet box. He looks hard at it and his face crinkles in a desperate attempt to hold back his feelings. He turns away quickly so you won't see the volume of tears collecting in his lids.
"I think this belongs to you" you whisper, handing it to him "I don't deserve it"
He takes the small box and tucks it in his jacket pocket.
"Can we go inside and talk?" you ask pleadingly
He pauses a moment, contemplating the request and finally nods his head. The two of you walk inside. He is guarded and cautious about his feelings, and understandably so, after the way you stomped them into the dust. Your emotions gush out in waves of confessions and admissions, navigating their way right past pride and self confidence. You confess everything and place your heart squarely in front of him on the floor, open for the smashing, desperate to salvage what was lost. You tell him all about the job and your dilema with the dating situation. Finally, exhausted, you take a deep breath and sit back in your chair. Ristain sits silently in the dim room, still having not said a word. You stand up, satisfied that you've said all there is to say and yet colossally disappointed by his silence.