He had bought it while on a business trip abroad. He'd been caught in a robbery and took three knife slashes to the chest to protect it. I remembered him being wheeled into the emergency room, pale and bloodied, clutching this ring.
His last words before the anesthesia took him were, "No matter what happens... I will never leave you."
Now, that memory sliced through my heart like a blade.
Had it all been a lie? Or was his "deep affection" just a mask he wore until Charlotte returned?
In the early hours of the morning, the front door clicked open.
I was feigning sleep when Walter climbed into bed. Reeking of alcohol, he pulled me into his arms, nuzzling my neck.
"Wife... I feel terrible..."
My eyes opened. Angry red rashes bloomed across his arms.
In the past, I would have sprung up to fetch medicine and cool towels, no matter how tired I was.
Today, I just stared at him.
"You drank?" I asked flatly.
"Social engagement. Couldn't be helped." He mumbled, pressing closer. "Wife, give me a kiss. It'll make me feel better."
Bile rose in my throat. I shoved him away.