Except, she’d made a terrible miscalculation. She’d canceled the mailbox at school too early. Trevor came home one blistering summer afternoon for lunch and intercepted the mail the day her diploma arrived at their house. He opened the package, found out what she’d done behind his back, and flew into a rage. He shredded her diploma in front of her, screaming mad, and then shoved it down the garbage disposal until it was pulp. That wasn’t the only thing he’d destroyed that day.
They both knew it was only a piece of paper. The real damage was already done. She’d lied, and he never let her live it down. Her life became a prison of suspicion and misery, anger and violence.
A year to the day of receiving her diploma, she found the last shreds of courage to leave him. There were some things Trevor could never take away from her, including her education. She’d packed her bags and filed for divorce. She only wished she could say she’d never looked back. Unfortunately, for the past four years Trevor made that wish impossible.
She glanced at Logan. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Absorbed in study, he shook his head. “I’m good.”
Leaning over the aisle, she read the page header. “Are you sure I can’t quiz you on ‘The Decade of Terror After 9/11’?”
“It’s more frightening than fascinating. Not what you’d call quizable.”
She fidgeted. “I’m no engineer, but if there’s something I should know to do a better job—”
“You’re exactly what I need,” he stated. “You know my system. You have the demonstration skills I don’t and the language skills I never will. Bring those things to the table, that’s all I ask.”
“I can do that.” She hoped she’d accomplish her vow to get him this contract.
“Which reminds me.” Setting the tome aside, he withdrew something from his suit coat pocket. “Here.”
He handed her a little black box. She stared at it dubiously in the palm of her hand. “What’s this?”
“Insurance.”
Wary, she pried open the velvet box. Her eyes flew wide. A diamond the size of her thumbnail sparkled like a disco ball. “Cripes, Logan!” She snapped the box shut. “Is it real?”
He slanted her a look. “What do you think?”
“Take it back.” She held it away from her. “I don’t want it.”
“Just put it on.”
“Why would you purchase such a thing?”
He rolled his eyes. “Stop reading into things.”
“It looks an engagement ring.”
“Trust me, when I ask a woman to marry me I’ll know the answer is yes.”
“Why do you want me to wear it?”
“I told you, insurance. In case you get morning sickness in the middle of the presentation. And I have to explain why you ran out of the room abruptly.”
“It’s not so bad,” she insisted. “I can control it.”
“That’s not what my sister tells me. She says it sneaks up on you out of nowhere. Dizziness, too. Especially after air travel.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Two. But only Stephanie talks to me about that stuff.”
That explained a lot. His protective instincts had become embedded through years of honing. “Your concern is touching,” she admitted, “but unnecessary.” She didn’t want him to see the part of her that melted.
“Humor me.” He dropped all pretenses. “The Suits on Capitol Hill have distrust down to an art. Maybe because they earn a living speaking half-truths and making promises they probably won’t keep. Regardless, if you show signs of pregnancy and you don’t at least have a ring to show for it, that typecast can influence their decision.”
The idea was ridiculous, totally outdated. “Single mothers make up a hefty chunk of their constituencies.”
“These aren’t just American politicians. There’s top military men, ambassadors, security heads. They want proof of stability in my company and employees. It’s subtle, but it’s part of the game you have to play.”
“Hardly fair,” she muttered.
“All’s fair in war and politics.”
As she slowly opened the box again, the enormous diamond caught the sunlight through the oval window and nearly blinded her. “What if I lose it?” she asked nervously.
“Then some sucker will get lucky. And I call my insurance company to handle it.”
“Oh.” So practical.
It’s not a real engagement ring. It never will be .
Why did a sad, hollow feeling creep over her then?
Reluctantly, she removed the faceted jewel from its satin cushion and slid it on. An exact fit. She stared at its over-the-top dazzle, shocked to see her left ring finger occupied. The first time since she’d removed her wedding band, left it on the kitchen counter, and walked away from her life with Trevor.
Memories and emotion welled up. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Crazy pregnancy hormones .
A tear slid loose and trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly so Logan wouldn’t notice.
But he did. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“No, nothing.” Her nose started to run. “I’m just… I have to go to the bathroom.” Unbuckling her seat belt she darted toward the rear of the plane.
Safely locked inside the small restroom, tears tumbled down her face. So many conflicting feelings from the past and present converged. An internal typhoon hit her. Sobs wracked her chest.
This is stupid , she berated herself between hiccups. She didn’t miss or want Trevor, not for all the castles in France. Yet she still remembered so clearly the hope and promise of those long-ago vows, the pretty fairytales and happily-ever-after her wedding ring had signified. She also acutely experienced the sense of failure for leaving the man she’d sworn to love and stand by for all time. No matter what an awful person he was. So much pain and loneliness, so many nights in agony, tortured and broken-hearted. She thought she’d thrown off Trevor’s chains, the manipulations he’d used to keep her shackled to him. She’d never stopped running, never stopped fearing. She hadn’t felt safe enough to pause and heal the deeper hurt still lingering in the defeated places in her heart.
The ring she wore now held no expectations, no promises. No sentiment from Logan.
No surprise, considering she was closeted in a bathroom crying her eyes out, an ungodly mess. The man didn’t deserve this kind of baggage.