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Taeli
“Ididn’t wear the right shoes for this,” Ansley says as the four of us hold on to one another, trying not to fall down the hill behind the bar that leads into the woods.
It’s dark ahead, except for the light from Erin’s phone and what looks to be a porch light glowing in between the trees in the distance.
I stumble over a rock or log or something large, and Jena tugs my arm to pull me off my ass. The ground is damp, and my ankle boots are sinking into the soft earth.
“We’re almost there,” Erin calls.
“Almost where?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” Jena says as she urges me forward.
A few minutes later, we are standing on the bank of Balsam Creek. Which is a large stream that runs off of the Coyote River and flows through the middle of the valley.
I look at the rushing water and back to them.
Erin holds her hand out to me.
“What?”
“Hand over the rings,” she demands.
I look down at my left hand. At the beautiful five-carat diamond ring that Damon gifted me on our fifteenth wedding anniversary to replace the small one he’d proposed with when we were poor college kids. The one he bought for me after I caught him in the hotel room with another woman. The apology ring he slid on my finger, recommitting himself to me and our marriage.
The guilt ring.
I yank them off and move to hand them to her, and she catches my hand.
“Are you sure you’re done with that no-good, lying, cheating, vow-breaking son of a bitch?” she asks.
“Yep,” I tell her without hesitation.
She grins and wraps my fingers around the rings. “Then, toss them,” she says.
I glance down at her fingers clasped around mine and back up.
“Trust me, it’s liberating,” she says.
Jena and Ansley cheer me on, and I step past Erin to the water’s edge.
I let loose the tears that I’ve been holding back, and as they begin to glide hot down my cheeks, I rear back and throw them as hard as I can into the flow.
Erin, Jena, and Ansley all start cheering and whistling as the rings hit the surface.
Before I know it, I’m enveloped by them, and we are jumping and laughing.
“How did that feel?” Jena asks.
“It felt good,” I shout.
“Right? I brought Erin out here to do the same thing when she found out Scott was cheating on her,” she tells me.
Ansley giggles, getting our attention. “I just imagine some fisherman gutting the trout he caught and finding a diamond ring inside. Like finding a pearl in an oyster.”
“Yeah, a twenty-thousand-dollar pearl,” I say through my laughter.
Erin’s head snaps to me. “What did you say?”
“Huh?”
She points to the dark water. “Did you say that those rings were worth twenty grand?”
“Yes. Well, the diamond ring is,” I confirm.
Her eyes go wide.
“The fuck you say?!” she shouts before she scrambles into the water and starts flailing around.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Getting that ring. Are you insane? Help me,” she demands, and we all jump in after her.
The four of us futilely swim around, searching the murky water for the rings. It’s a useless endeavor.
“Dammit,” Erin says as we pull ourselves to the bank.
We are all soaked, freezing, and exhausted.
“The current probably has that thing all the way to Nashville by now,” Ansley gasps.
“Or it’s in some fish’s belly,” Jena agrees.
Erin smacks me on the arm.
“Ouch. What was that for?” I ask.
“What moron throws a twenty-thousand-dollar ring in the creek?” she screeches.
“You told me to. You said it would be liberating!” I remind her.
“That’s because I thought it was just a regular wedding set, not one that could buy you a new car. You should have told me to kiss your ass, tucked the rock into your pocket, and tossed the wedding band only. It could have been symbolic.”
“You didn’t offer a symbolic toss,” I grumble.
One minute, we are yelling at one another, and the next minute, we are screaming in fear as a bright spotlight is flashed in our eyes.
We look up through squinted eyes to see a man with a flashlight held steady on us.
He doesn’t say anything as he takes in the muddy, drenched foursome huddled on the water’s edge in the middle of the night.
“Officer?” Jena asks in a whisper.
He lowers the light, and our eyes adjust to see Graham Tuttle standing before us, fighting to keep from bursting into laughter.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“What are you doing here?” Erin asks.
“Dad got a call from one of the cabins, complaining about a bunch of loud, drunk teenagers out in the woods. He asked me to come check it out for him,” he explains.
“Loud? We weren’t loud,” Jena protests.
