I heard the panic in his voice as he dropped the phone, scrambling to reassure her. “No, Paula! You’re beautiful. You’re the only one for me. I’d never marry her.”
Two denials. The words pierced deeper than any blade.
I hung up, refusing to listen to another second of their ridiculous performance.
That night, Jason finally came home. The door creaked open and when he saw me sitting there, he froze, startled.
“How did you get in here?” he asked, his voice cold. “Where did you get the key?”
He’d forgotten. I was the one who had turned this house into a home. I chose the furniture, I decorated every corner and I had the keys made.
Realization flickered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a forced smile. From behind his back, he pulled out a small velvet box.
“Look at this,” he said, opening it to reveal a ring. “I had this customized. Just for you.”
He grabbed my hand, his touch gentle but calculated and moved to slide the ring onto my finger.
“You owe Paula too much,” he murmured. “I don’t want an apology from you. This is enough.”
The audacity—the sheer audacity—made me want to laugh all over again.
Was this the man I once loved?