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Wednesday is twenty six when she buys an engagement ring.
The last seven years have been the best of her life.
They stay in that room at Ophelia Hall for three years, a room filled with kisses and late night talks, wild sex and sleepy cuddles, fights and apologies and tender love-making.
Moving out of Ophelia Hall for their last year of college feels almost serendipitous, because several things align to make it possible and push them to that decision. For starters, their hallmates hate them a little bit, always complaining of the noise, since Enid is definitely not quiet while in the throes of passion.
But after three years, they’re also so done with the communal showers and bathrooms and having to cook in the shitty Hall kitchen or spend money on meals.
So when Gomez calls to tell Wednesday that a friend of his is renting out a slightly spooky but spacious and affordable apartment near Nevermore, they decide to take the leap together.
In the following three years, Wednesday and Enid turn the place into a home, settling in with the little quirks of the charmingly eccentric and gothic-adjacent apartment.
The first Christmases are spent there, but on the third, after the Sinclairs call to apologize to their daughter and beg her to return home to see her, Enid decides to give them another chance. Wednesday goes with her and they don’t even have to explain the way their friendship has evolved in the last few years—they already seem to know. Esther and Murray appear to have revisited their outdated views of the world and have come around to their daughter’s sexuality.
However, Enid’s relationship with them never improves. And yet, she seems happier than ever, having moved on from needing their approval and learning to accept them for what they are: the people who brought her into this world and nothing more.
One year out of college, Wednesday sends her novel to several publishers, hoping to become an author and be able to live off of that. When she gets a positive reply from one of them, she realizes her life is moving forward in the right direction, and she wants that life to always have Enid in it.
So for a whole year, Wednesday ponders and considers what she wants to do.
She’s never been one to pursue marriage or traditional families, but she knows they would do it in their own way, with their own rules.
The spring before Enid’s twenty-six birthday, the blonde gets offered a full-time position as Staff Writer for the Burlington Post’s digital editorial team, a job that will only take her into the office twice a week, with a half hour commute.
Enid accepts it immediately. And as they’re celebrating at their favorite Italian and Wednesday listens to her chatter about all the stories she wants to write, she knows it is time.
A couple weeks later, she’s walking into the jewelry store with confidence, inspecting the rings on display as she waits for a jeweler to help her.
Wednesday’s done her research and knows this is the finest jeweler in town, renowned for decades of impeccable craftsmanship. Their prices are exorbitant, but Wednesday has never been interested in budgeting when it comes to Enid.
The man introduces himself as Lawrence with a heavy French accent, and proceeds to ask Wednesday what the ring is for.
“An engagement," she answers dryly.
“Oh, lucky man?”
“Woman.”
“Delightful, women’s rings are so much prettier.” He winks at her. “What’s she like? Tell me about ‘er.”
“She’s vibrant and unapologetic in her enthusiasm about the world. Fearless in her convictions and far more compassionate that I could ever be. Her strength lies in her kindness, which she extends even to those who have done little to deserve it.” Wednesday doesn’t break eye contact with the man, even though she doesn’t really see him. “She likes the moon, silver tones and anything that sparkles. However, I don’t want something extravagant. She ought to be what stands out, not the ring.”
“Mon Dieu,” [my god] Lawrence says, bringing a hand to his chest, right over his expensive suit. “That is the most romantic description I’ve ‘eard in a while. Let’s find you the perfect ring, shall we?”
He looks at the drawers behind him, all labeled with little golden plaques with engraved numbers.
“You said silver, oui?”
“Yes, but it can’t be actual silver. She’s allergic to it.”
“Silver colors then, pas de problème.” [no problem] He brings out several ring display cases stacked on top of each other. “We ‘ave white gold or platinum. Let me show you my favorites that will suit your bien-aimée.” [beloved]
It takes Wednesday about an hour of back and forth with Lawrence before they settle on a simple platinum band with a round, brilliant diamond that sits in four delicate prongs, flanked on either side by small crescent and waning moons worked into the band.
Wednesday pays with her black card and takes the ring inside of a velvet box, keeping it safe in her pocket.
The box still sits inside of her coat pocket in early October, when the Harvest Moon Festival starts its celebrations near the park.
Enid, of course, asks to go on the weekend. They bundle up on that chilly afternoon and Wednesday puts on her coat with the box in the pocket, not by accident but just because she has a feeling in her gut that today is going to be the day.
They walk around the stands hand in hand, smelling the apple cider and the pumpkin pastries. Enid gets a caramel apple and eats it as they walk, flashing Wednesday a sugary smile with reddened lips that makes her heart warm in her chest and the box itch in her pocket.
There are tables and benches filled with people eating the many seasonal foods offered at the festival. Wednesday and Enid find a bench to sit a ways away from the crowd to enjoy their slices of pie. The live music and conversations fill the air, but they’re just a murmur in their little corner, where Enid talks about the lovely handmade decorations that they saw in one of the stands.
As the sun starts to set, the streetlights in the park and the warm strings of light of the festival turn on, all at the same time. They can hear the oohs and aahs from the visitors at the idyllic and charming sight.
Soon, people start sitting down in blankets and looking up from their seats, all expecting to catch sight of the Harvest Moon, the Moon that rises right around sunset for several evenings in a row during this time of year.
On their bench, Wednesday and Enid sit pressed together, Enid staring up at the sky in anticipation and Wednesday staring at her with a similar look of awe.
“I love this. This is so nice,” Enid says, taking Wednesday’s hand and holding it with both of hers in her lap. “We should come every year.”
“We can do that.”
Enid sighs, content. “I always liked looking at the moon.”
“I know.”
Enid turns to her, surprised. “I never told you this.”
“You didn’t have to.” Wednesday rubs Enid’s hand with her thumb. “We used to sit on your roof and you wouldn’t take your eyes off of her.”
“Ah.” Enid giggles. “I dunno. I always liked how pretty she looked. That silver light surrounded by darkness. Lonely, but lovely.”
Wednesday hums, looking up to see if she’s come out yet.
Enid nudges her side. “Maybe that’s why I like you.”
“Me?”
“A lonely, mysterious light surrounded by darkness.”
Wednesday rolls her eyes, making Enid giggle again. There’s gasping from the people around the stands and Enid snaps her gaze up, a smile growing on her face immediately at what she sees.
“There she is.”
Wednesday looks up too, finding the almost full Harvest Moon emerging against the dusky blue sky, its pale silver glow growing clearer by the minute. On the horizon, the sky fades into lavenders and peaches as the sun sets.
Wednesday brings her hand to the pocket of her coat.
“Oh my gosh, that’s so pretty,” Enid says, squeezing Wednesday’s hand in her lap.
Wednesday fiddles with the velvet box in her pocket before she reaches for Enid’s hand, unfurling it from around hers. She puts the ring on her palm and cradles her hand, curling Enid’s fingers lightly over it.
Enid looks down with a frown, noticing there’s something cold in her hand.
She opens it.
And stares at the ring with the same confused expression.
A second passes. Then two. Wednesday observes her girlfriend with obsessive attention.
The frown between Enid’s eyebrows relaxes as her whole face shifts. Her lips part and her eyes widen the tiniest fraction.
“Wednesday, what is this?” She asks, her voice a little shaky.
“An engagement ring.”
Enid’s eyes snap up to hers, starting to well up with tears immediately.
“What?” She asks in a shuddered breath.
“It’s an engagement ring.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to marry you.”
Enid looks down at the ring, then back at her, her chest heaving. “Are you asking me—?”
“I am.” Wednesday reaches up to wipe a tear from the blonde’s cheek. “Will you, Enid?”
Enid’s lips purse in the way they do when she’s feeling a lot and about to cry. She nods, closing her fist around the ring so tight Wednesday’s afraid she’ll cut herself on the diamond.
“Yes,” she whimpers, pulling Wednesday into a desperate hug as she lets out a sob against her neck.
“Enid. Why are you crying?” Wednesday asks softly, wrapping her arms around her.
“Because I’m s—so happy!” She hiccups.
Wednesday shuts her eyes tightly, absorbing this moment, taking it into her very soul. After a few seconds Enid breaks the hug abruptly, opening her hand and looking at the ring.
She laughs wetly.
Wednesday takes the ring and puts it on her finger and for the first time Enid looks at it closely.
“Oh my god,” she gasps. “You did know about the moon.”
“Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding? I love it, baby. It’s gorgeous.” Enid stares at it for a beat. “I’m engaged.”
“You are.”
Enid looks at her. “To my best friend.”
“Yes.”
“Who’s a woman.”
“Why are you stating facts?”
Enid chuckles, shaking her head. “I just never thought I’d get to have this—that this would be my life.”
“It only took us fourteen years.”
Enid takes the sides of Wednesday’s face, her new ring glinting in the light of the moon against Wednesday’s cheek.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Enid.”
The kiss that follows is gentle and full of promise, their first as fiancées. Enid breaks it after a moment, cuddling into Wednesday’s side and resting her head on her shoulder, her gaze finding the silver orb on the sky yet again.
“Do you want to go back to the festival?” Wednesday asks.
“Can we stay like this for a little bit longer?”
Wednesday looks up at the blanket of night that has slowly fallen around them without neither girl noticing and lets out a contented sigh.
“As long as you want, my love.”