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The Wedding Ring Falls, Never to Be Picked Up Novel Cover

The Wedding Ring Falls, Never to Be Picked Up

While working a delivery, Stanley Dickerson rushes to assist an elderly man at his wife Susan's request. But the good deed turns devastating when he overhears a familiar, affectionate voice. Stepping out, Stanley confronts his wife arm-in-arm with another man. After three years of devotion, the painful truth of her betrayal is laid bare. Realizing he has lost a long-standing bet with his father, Stanley decides to abandon his modest lifestyle and walk away from the marriage forever.
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Chapter 4

4: 4

4

I stared at the two of them for a long moment, hesitated again and again, and in the end I still nodded.

"Fine, I'll go buy it."

By the time I got back with the liquor, the table was already set with a spread of good dishes.

Bryce came over grinning to carry in the bottles, the happiness on his face impossible to hide.

We were supposed to be drinking hard and having a good time, but the whole meal tasted like nothing to me.

Every time I lifted a bottle to my mouth, out of the corner of my eye I could plainly see Susan and Bryce trading looks on the sly.

Only when she noticed my face darken did she finally start putting food on my plate.

Besides the few dishes I liked, the table also held braised eggplant and scrambled eggs and tomatoes, two things I didn't like.

No need to guess. Those were made for Bryce.

After dinner, Bryce used digesting his food as an excuse and lingered in the living room, watching TV with Susan, refusing to leave.

I sat alone at the table, drinking to drown it out.

I can't hold my liquor, but tonight, of all nights, I put away fifteen Heinekens in a row.

My head went hazy, and before I knew it I'd fallen asleep right there at the table.

When I woke, my head was splitting and my stomach churned like it was on fire.

I couldn't even manage to throw up. My eyes went to the living room on instinct, and both of them were gone.

That cleared my head fast.

"Baby, where are you?"

"Susan, where are you?"

No one answered. I stumbled into the living room, then back to the bedroom to check, and she was nowhere.

When I saw the clock hand pointing to two in the morning, my breath caught and my head throbbed like it was being torn apart.

I pulled out my phone and called Susan again, and again it said the phone was off.

I dropped back onto the couch and gripped my hair with both hands.

This late, where in the world could she be?

I didn't want to keep thinking about it, and I had no idea where to even look for her.

The whole night I couldn't sleep at all, and at dawn a message from Susan suddenly came through.

I opened it. It was a photo taken in bed, Susan sound asleep with her arm around a man's shoulder.

The person who sent it was Bryce.

The phone clattered to the floor.

I'd waited the whole night, and this was what I got?

I should have seen it coming. I'd just forced myself not to think about the worst.

She'd lied after all.

I was surprisingly calm. No roaring, no smashing things.

I picked the phone back up. The photo had already been deleted in a second.

Was this her getting a thrill out of me, betting I hadn't woken up to see it?

But in that gamble, everyone lost.

At seven in the morning, I contacted the real estate company and sold this ten-million mansion off cheap, no questions asked.

From the buyer sending people over, to inspecting the house, signing the contract, and handling all the paperwork, the whole thing took less than two hours.

The moment the door of Unit 12 in Section A was sealed with a notice, I wheeled my suitcase out, ready to leave Waterview Estates.

Outside the courtyard, Susan came back in a taxi.

She saw the seal on the door at once, and her voice trembled.

"What on earth happened? How did our mansion end up like this?"

"Honey, where are you going?"

She grabbed hold of me, her face awful, more lost than I had ever seen her.

"I sold the mansion. Let's get divorced!"

As I said it, I threw a set of divorce papers into her hands.

Outside the courtyard, the Rolls-Royce the butler had driven over was already waiting.

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