“Then why does it look exactly like one?”

“Because this is yours.” Inside was the engagement ring Cassandra had thrown three years earlier. The gold band had a tiny scratch from striking the apartment wall.

“You kept it?”

“I went back for it after you left for work. I carried it to Seattle. Every time I told myself losing you was the price of success, I opened that box and knew I was lying.”

Cassandra touched the scratched band. “I was cruel that morning.”

“So was I.”