The Ring I Designed, The Finger She Wore It On Chapter 01

The Ring I Designed, The Finger She Wore It On Chapter 01

For Grant Calloway, everything in life came with a score.

When we were dating, he told me that anyone or anything that couldn’t score at least a ninety wasn’t worth his time.

After we got married, he started scoring everything about me.

On our wedding anniversary, I cooked all his favorite dishes.

He took one bite. “Eighty-nine.”

Then he set down his fork and left to have dinner with Camille Warren because she hadn’t had much of an appetite.

For the company anniversary gala, I tried on twenty-seven dresses.

Grant gave me a quick once-over. “Eighty-eight. Not presentable enough for the gala.”

That night, he walked into the event with Camille on his arm, and all she wore was a simple white dress.

Chasing a perfect score, I quit my job, earned seven professional certifications, and learned four foreign languages.

But no matter what I did, I never got past an eighty-nine.

Camille didn’t have to do a thing. She could simply stand there and still get a perfect score.

I asked him, “What does it actually take to get a ninety?”

He glanced at Camille and said nothing.

And then I laughed.

His scoring system had only ever had one real rule: if it was me, it was never enough.

I pulled off my wedding ring and dropped it into the wineglass in front of him.

“Grant Calloway, this time, I’m the one doing the scoring.”

“Your loyalty? Zero.”

“This marriage? Zero.”

“And you? You fail.”

***

The ring sank to the bottom of his glass with a faint clink.

Grant watched it for two seconds, then used his napkin to fish it out.

“Making a scene in public gets you an eighty.”

He set the ring on the table, his voice cool.

“Vivian Ward, don’t make everyone else uncomfortable just because you’re upset.”

The laughter around us died.

Camille hurried between us, her white dress spattered with wine.

“Grant, don’t blame Vivian. She only did this because she cares too much about you.”

Then she turned to me, her expression soft.

“Vivian, you shouldn’t throw your wedding ring away like that. Put it back on.”

She held out her hand. I didn’t move.

A slim blue-diamond ring sat on her ring finger.

I had sketched that design myself the year before.

Grant had told me the finished piece had a flaw and wasn’t good enough for me, so he’d had it destroyed.

Apparently, “destroyed” meant Camille got to wear it.

“Looks good?” I asked softly.

Camille drew her hand back instinctively.

“Grant gave it to me for the company anniversary. If you want it, I’ll take it off right now.”

Grant stopped her.

“A gift is a gift. You don’t take it back.”

“Vivian, you have plenty of jewelry. You don’t need to fight over everything.”

I laughed.

“Why shouldn’t I fight for something I designed?”

“Because it belongs to Camille now.”

He slid my wedding ring across the table to me.

“Put it back on. Apologize to her, and we’ll forget tonight ever happened.”

“I’m not apologizing.”

Camille gave his sleeve a gentle tug.

“It’s fine. It’s just a dress. Vivian’s been out of the workforce for so long. It makes sense she’d be a little sensitive.”

Grant’s expression softened.

“You always make excuses for her.”

He picked up the microphone and announced the final executive appointment of the evening.

“Effective today, Camille Warren will head Crestwell Group’s International Business division and oversee the Horizon Initiative.”

Applause broke out.

Everyone there knew I had spent two full years building that division from the ground up.

The clients I’d brought in before I resigned, the four languages I’d learned, the hundreds of pages of proposals I’d written—all of it had become the work behind Camille’s perfect score.

Grant handed her the microphone.

Camille took it, her eyes already red. “Thank you, Mr. Calloway. And thank you, Vivian. She wasn’t involved in the later stages, but a lot of her ideas inspired me.”

A few people in the crowd started teasing.

“Mrs. Calloway is generous. She’ll even hand over her own project.”

“It’s all in the family. Mrs. Calloway gets to enjoy the good life at home—why compete with Ms. Warren over a career?”

Grant looked at me.

“Hear that? No one’s denying what you did. Camille is simply a better fit.”

My hand closed around the medical printout in my purse as a chill crept through me.

I’d planned to tell him tonight that I was pregnant.

The doctor had warned me that the pregnancy was at risk and told me to avoid stress.

I crumpled the printout in my fist and pushed back my chair.

Grant caught my wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Put the ring back on first.”

“It’s dirty now. I don’t want it.”

His grip tightened slightly, though his voice stayed even.

“Vivian, know when to stop testing me. The more you push this, the lower your score gets.”

“What if I want a divorce?”

He stared at me, then laughed.

“Threatening me with divorce to make me change my scoring system? Not smart.”

Camille walked over and handed me a document.

“Vivian, this is a voting proxy tied to the Horizon Initiative. Grant wants you to sign it tomorrow. Then everyone can forget tonight ever happened.”

I opened it to the last page.

It would give Grant full authority to exercise the voting rights attached to my fifteen-percent stake.

Once I signed, I wouldn’t even have a voice in the company anymore.

I closed the document.

“What if I don’t sign?”

Grant pressed the wedding ring into my palm.

“You will.”

“Why?”

“Because this marriage is the only accomplishment you have worth mentioning.”

He let go of me and turned to help Camille into her coat.

The crumpled medical printout slipped out of my purse.

Camille bent to pick it up.

I reached for it, but Grant stepped between us to shield her, jostling me aside.

The printout fell into the ice bucket, and the melting ice quickly soaked it through.