I hadn’t seen that ring in years. It had been locked in my bedroom drawer, tucked away like a small piece of my past I couldn’t afford to lose. A white gold band with a rare oval sapphire flanked by tiny diamonds. It wasn’t flashy, but it was priceless to me.
I walked to my bedroom and opened the drawer. The small red velvet box was there. When I flipped it open, empty.
Ellie had gotten into my house somehow while I was out. She had taken the only thing I truly had left of my past.
I called Jacob. He picked up on the first ring.
He told me she had been spiraling ever since the loan fell through, screaming and throwing things, saying I was trying to destroy her. He went to work that morning and came home to an empty apartment.
“I already reported the ring stolen,” he said. “Filed a police report.”
“You didn’t mention her name, though,” I said.
“No,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“She’s still my wife,” he said weakly.
“She’s not pregnant,” I said.
“What?”
I told him about Rachel’s messages and the screenshot.