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I round a large china cabinet and see her standing in front of a jewelry case, not touching it, but staring at the backlit glass box. When I touch her back, she startles. “Hey there.” I’m hoping I can calm her, support her, be whatever she needs me to be for her.
Being discreet, she wipes underneath her eyes with the back of her hand, and the action alone shows me how vulnerable she is to what’s happening. “I thought I was over all of this, but seeing it here . . .” Her eyes drift to mine. “Why do these things affect me this way?”
She wants answers I can’t give her, but I search for the right thing to say in her time of need. “These objects are a reminder. That’s all. It’s not him. It’s just stuff.”
She turns and hugs me, squeezing me hard while pressing her cheek to me. I wrap my arms around her, appreciating every moment like this that I’m given, and try to steady my heart.
She looks up and says, “Your heart is racing.”
“I hurried here to see you.” It’s not a complete lie, but me rushing over here has nothing to do with why my heart is beating so fast right now.
That makes her smile, but she sees through the lie. “So Rachel called you?”
“No, Justin.”
“Rachel called Justin to call you?” She laughs lightly as she wipes at one of her eyes again.
“Something like that. You want to blow off this place and go somewhere else?”
She looks around. “I want to stay for a while longer. Will you stay with me?”
“Of course.” I follow her as she walks over to a desk hidden behind a screen and reaches into her purse, pulling a flask out. That makes me smile. “You drinking on the job, Ms. Barrow?”
“Rachel gave this to me. Maybe I should ask her why she has it at work.” She laughs again, but this time it’s hollow. “Guess she figured I needed it more than she did today.” She takes a quick swig, scrunches her nose at the taste, and hands it to me.
I look around first. The auction is about to start, so the potential bidders have left, but the screen is hiding us from the public anyway, so I take a quick sip. The whiskey burns as it coats my throat. “I didn’t know Rachel was a whiskey drinker. Maybe I should have given her another chance.” I take a risk and joke.
That wins me a dirty look and a punch to the arm. “Ow!” I grab my arm and play along. It never hurts, but it makes her feel good that maybe she’s strong enough to do a little damage.
She takes another gulp and tugs on my shirt. “Come on. I want to show you something over here.” She leads me back to the display case and points at a ring in the middle on the top shelf. It’s sparkling and simple in design—platinum with diamonds scattered around. “That’s my engagement ring.”
I lean in closer. “Really?”
“It’s Tiffany’s, but it wasn’t that expensive.” She smirks, glancing at me. “Cherry hated it. I loved it. Simple, beautiful, not showy. He gave it to me because he said he thought the ring was pretty and reminded him of me. He bought it with me in mind.”
“It’s very pretty. You gave it back when you broke up?”
“No. When we moved here after college it was quickly replaced with what was deemed a ‘proper’ ring. Four perfect carats. Princess cut. Platinum band. It was breathtaking. I was so surprised. I loved it until, one night at a dinner party at his parents’ house, Cherry told the story of how she forced him to go shopping for a ring worthy of the Bennett name, and that she picked out the new one.” She stands up straight, turning her back to the case and sips from the flask.
The auction has started, and two employees remain back here, waiting to move furniture when the auction is finished. They’re burly guys who don’t look like they will tell on her for drinking.
I take another sip after her, impressed how she’s drinking the straight liquor without complaint.
She goes to Jim’s couch and sits down heavily, dropping her head back. “God, I loved this couch. It’s ridiculous how expensive it was, but it’s so comfortable.”
I smile and sit down next to her, handing the flask back.
She rolls her head to the side and smiles at me when our eyes meet. “The whole ring thing was a joke to Cherry. They were laughing at the little band that Jim bought me in college. They were laughing at us, taking away from the sweet proposal. He gave me a ring that he knew I’d like, a ring that fit who I was. That night, he took it all away by laughing with her. He held my hand up to show the new, Cherry-approved ring to the other guests.” She slides across the leather and says, “I gave Cherry’s ring back to him the night we broke up. By accident, though, I forgot and left the other ring in my dresser drawer when I moved out. I had hidden it there for months, like I was protecting it or something.”
