I Don't Want the Ring or You

From the back cover

For our fifth anniversary, I planned to bid on a pink diamond ring. A young woman outbid me.

I followed her outside to ask if she would consider selling it to me.

She stood at the curb, showing the ring on her hand to the friend who had come with her. "I'm already tired of this one.

"So my boyfriend told me to pick out something I liked for our first anniversary."

I stopped. She would never part with an anniversary gift.

Reese was busy handling the smuggling trade along the coast and could not come with me.

He had only said he would not be home for dinner and told me to buy myself something nice to celebrate.

When I heard her say her boyfriend had a candlelit dinner waiting for her, I smiled and envied their young love.

My car pulled up. As I was about to get in, she turned around.

I saw the ring on her hand, the one she was already tired of.

My breath caught. Cold shot from the soles of my feet to the base of my skull.

It was the ring Reese had given me last year, then discarded because it did not fit.