The Ring I Designed, The Finger She Wore It On Chapter 06

The Ring I Designed, The Finger She Wore It On Chapter 06

Grant tried to call me for seven straight days and never got through.

On the eighth day, he finally reached my former mentor.

“Where is she?”

My mentor’s voice turned cold. “And what exactly are you to Irer now?”

“I’m her husband.”

“She sent you divorce papers.

“I haven’t signed them.”

“That’s your problem.”

Grant lowered his voice.

“She just lost the baby. She needs someone taking care of her. I’m bringing her home.”

“Where were you when she actually needed someone?”

The line went dead.

Grant spent the entire day outside the interpreting firm.

Years ago, when I worked until well past midnight, he’d waited there for me too.

It had been pouring that night. I’d run out into the rain, and he’d opened his umbrella and pressed a hot coffee into my hands.

“You come before everything else,” he’d told me.

Now rain drummed against that same umbrella, but no one came running toward him.

That evening, Camille stopped his car.

“Grant, I already explained everything to the publisher. It was an editing mistake.”

“Move.”

“Are you really going to ruin me over Vivian?”

She grabbed the car door.

“You were the one who said she was simply the best person to marry. You said feelings shouldn’t cloud judgment. That’s why I thought I could come back and find you.”

Grant-looked at her.

“When did I ever tell you we’d be together?”

“You gave me a perfect score.”

“A perfect score meant I admired you. It was never a promise.”

Camille laughed through her tears.

“You scored her. You scored me. Now that she’s gone, suddenly you’re playing the devoted husband.”

“Grant Calloway, do you even know what love is?”

He didn’t answer.

He drove away, leaving Camille behind.

When he got home, the little notebook where I’d recorded his scores for my cooking was still on the dining

table.

During our first year of marriage, he’d graded dinner every night.

[Seasoning: 88.]

[Presentation: 87.]

[Nutrition: 89.] .

After that, I remade every low-scoring dish more than ten times.

On the last page was my recipe for baked salmon.

Beside it was a note in my handwriting.

(Grant only coughed twice today. He should be better soon.]

There was no score.

Then he found my certificates. They covered French, German, Spanish, international protocol, nutrition, and jewelry design.

I’d kept a study log with each one.

[2:00 a.m. Grant still isn’t home.]

[4:00 a.m. Reheated the milk for the third time.]

(6:00 a.m. He said Camille’s stomach hurt.]

The notes ended there.

AM

Grant sat in the empty room until morning.

His assistant brought him the investigation findings.

“Mr. Calloway, Ms. Ward received an invitation from the Global Conference Interpreting Institute three months ago.”

“Three months ago?”

“Ms. Warren intercepted the invitation email. She also used your digital-signature credentials to send a reply claiming that Ms. Ward had serious mental-health issues.”

Grant looked up.

“How did she get access to my credentials?”

The assistant hesitated.

“You let Ms. Warren come and go from your office as she pleased, and you said anything involving her was always the highest priority.”

The answer hit him hard.

Grant picked up his phone.

For the first time, he didn’t order me to come home.

He spent a long time composing the messages.

Grant: [Vivian, I’m sorry.]

Grant: [I didn’t know about the baby.]

Grant: [Can I come get you?]

The messages went through.

I never replied.

Half an hour later, an attorney delivered notice that I had filed for divorce.

The evidence list was long.

[Misappropriation of premarital assets.]

[Unauthorized proxy voting of my shares.]

[Fraudulent use of digital-signature credentials.]

[Wrongful interference with my career.]

The final item concerned the copyright infringement involving my mother’s manuscript.

The attorney held out a pen.

“Mr. Calloway, Ms. Ward said that if you’re willing to agree to the divorce without contest, she won’t seek additional damages for emotional distress.”

Grant didn’t take it.

“What else did she say?”

“She said your apology came too late. It doesn’t count anymore.”

After the attorney left, Grant tore the divorce agreement in half.

But almost as soon as he threw it away, he crouched beside the trash can and picked up every torn piece.