And he’d relied on it.
I wasn’t certain I could ever forgive that.
I removed my shoes and collected the mail.
There was a thank-you card from a patient and my electricity bill.
Everyday things.
I placed them beside my keys.
Then I noticed a little white box at the edge of the kitchen counter.
My wedding ring.
I’d brought it to the church Saturday in my purse, intending to give it to Paige before the ceremony.
It had never been placed on my finger.
I opened the box.
The plain gold band reflected the afternoon sunlight.
For weeks, I’d wondered what wearing it would feel like.
Now I wondered how long I’d have worn it before discovering what Seth believed marriage entitled him to demand.
My phone rang.
Seth.
I stared at his name.
Part of me wanted to answer.
I wanted him to grasp how much he’d destroyed and say something proving he finally understood why I’d left.
