Page 10 of Entwined in Fate

Chapter Five

Istepoutofthe shower.

For the first time in a week, I’m relieved I don’t have a skull-piercing hangover. Hell, I slept really well. I guess $11,000 bottles of wine come with L-theanine or benzodiazepine—sleeping aids.

And boy, do they work well.

I feel reborn.

Walking back to my bedroom, I settle on my white furry stool right in front of the vanity mirror. I apply my moisturizer before anything. While doing so, my eyes fall to the glass jewelry box on the right side of the table.

Automatically, my eyes scan the trinkets above the velvet tray. There, I realize that somethingfamiliaris missing.

My engagement ring.

Before I could even soak my entire face with moisturizer, I’m already scouring the contents of the jewelry box and turning it upside down like a complete lunatic.

To no avail, I proceed to check the drawers and even moved the entirety of the vanity table in case I dropped my engagement ring somewhere.

Anxiety creeps into me as I fail to locate it.

Next, I run back to the bathroom just in case I left it on the sink or in the soap holder. Still, nothing.

Fuck.

In a slight panic, I run around the kitchen and the living room. Maybe I left it on the kitchen counter when I had my morning coffee? Maybe I dropped it in the crevices of the couch when I drank coffee there.

It should be here somewhere.

It should be.

As I lift the throw pillows and force my hand inside the couch, I hear the front door open, followed by a set of footsteps. Then, my mom’s voice speaks behind me, “Estelle, are you okay?”

“My engagement ring,” I say a little breathlessly. “I think I lost it.”

“What?” My mom’s voice raises. “Let me help you find it—”

Aunt Olive interjects. “What for?”

I glance at her, making me pause to think long and hard about the value of that ring. “What… what do you mean?”

She stares at me in pure question. “I mean, so what if you lost it? The engagement is over, and we’re calling off the wedding.”

“Olive!” My mom scolds her, perhaps wanting everyone to be gentle with me when it comes to that topic.

But now, I’m deep in thought.

So what if I lost it?Larson cheated on me, after all. That ring only reminds me of his blunt lies and sugar-coated promises. He wants to marry me? While sleeping with someone else behind my back?

As I let these thoughts pull me back to reality and calm my panic, the answer to Aunt Olive’s question pops into my head. I say, “It’s a $3,000 ring. Surely, I can sell it.”

For a moment, I think Aunt Olive isn’t impressed with my answer. But then, she bursts out laughing. After a second or two, I laugh, too. So did Mom.

We laugh until our jaws hurt, and tears pool at the sides of our eyes.

Once we settle to a sigh, Aunt Olive asks, “Where did you last wear it?”

I rely on my semi-alcoholic brain to remind me where I last wore it. With much thought, I realize where I last had it on, still feeling the metal band between my fingers as I twisted it around. “At the bar. A few days ago, I went to a bar, and I had that ring on.”

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