When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie)

Clyde's grip tightened around the engagement ring, and his eyes reddened with emotion. "Where's your wedding ring? Why aren't you wearing it? Melanie, what's this about?"

I shrugged, at a loss for words. Should I tell Clyde about the days when I was so broke that I couldn't even afford to see a doctor?

I knew Clyde would soften, but I didn't want his pity. Our marriage had hit rock bottom. Now that I had some money, I just wanted a shred of dignity. "Melanie, do you have any idea? I made that ring with my hands. I picked the diamond from many others and crafted it myself! I always thought I'd propose once I got a job and saved some money. Melanie!" His voice roared, tinged with a hint of choking emotion.

I stared at him, overwhelmed with sadness.

He appeared so wronged by my doings, but wasn't I? I had wondered why the wedding ring looked so cheap. Did leaving him mean I didn't deserve a beautiful diamond ring? But he never told me he made the ring himself.

I touched my bare ring finger, bowing my head. Perhaps it was all these misunderstandings that had brought us to this point.

I remained silent, and Clyde grew angrier.

He gave me a tight hug, his eyes turning red. "Melanie, don't I mean anything to you anymore? You won't even wear our wedding ring. All you care about is money. Doesn't love mean anything to you? You weren't like this before. No!"

I closed my eyes, finding his words absurd. Was love about bringing other women home and humiliating me? If his love was so valuable, was mine so cheap that he could trample on?

When I opened my eyes, I was devoid of emotion. "Clyde, we've been out of love for ages. Why bring this up now? We had something real once, but it's over. Let's split on good terms. I'll email you the divorce papers. Think it over and then get back to me."

The Patterson Group's anniversary was over, and a quiet divorce seemed most fitting.

He still clung to me. His gaze grew fierce as if he could devour me.

I pushed him away, but he stubbornly slipped the ring onto my finger. "You can't just think about divorce! Let's start over and work on our relationship! If you don't like that one, wear this one. It's a solitaire, expensive enough for you?"

I looked down at the ring and laughed. "Clyde, why are you being so ridiculous? Why insist I have it if it wasn't for me?"

He gripped my hand tightly, refusing to let me remove the ring. His gaze was stubborn, just like him. "I told you, all those jewels were for you. It was Kayla... anyway, I'll make it up to you. I can buy you another one. They were all for you. You know everything. Why pretend?"

I let Clyde hold on, looking at him coldly. They were all for me, but Clyde never told me. Maybe he also told Kayla, giving her a chance. He didn't even ask why I wasn't wearing his custom jewelry, as if he never noticed I wasn't wearing our wedding ring.

"Let go." I loosened his grip and held out my hand. "Clyde, am I pretending not to know, or are you pretending not to let go? The ring isn't even my size. How can you claim it was for me?"

I let the ring drop to the floor. He stared at me, speechless. There was nothing he could say.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

I ignored him, changing my dress in the walk-in closet.

When I left, Clyde was still in the same position, not bothering to pick up the ring. I didn't care anymore and walked out the door.

Upon returning to Jade's place, I felt

utterly drained, like all my energy drained. But Jade looked worse, sitting before her computer, her hair a mess, her pajamas buttoned wrong, and it seemed she'd been drinking.

I asked with concern, "Jade, what happened to you?"

"Mel, oh Mel..." She turned and hugged me, soon covering me in tears and snot.

"Who's crossed you?" I patted her back until she calmed down a bit.

"My bid project design is a mess, and there's a meeting tomorrow. What am I going to do? The design data is all wrong." She continued to sob as I glanced at her computer.

Jade was top-notch in her field, rarely making mistakes. However, after reviewing it, we found the data had flaws.

“Melanie, if anything is wrong with this design, I'm done for." She slumped over the desk, feeling totally disheartened.

I looked at the computer screen,

then flicked her forehead. "Stop

crying. If there's a problem, we'll find

it. We might not be geniuses, but

we're as good as any expert if we work together."

I didn't wait for her response, grabbing the papers to look for errors.

She looked at me, rubbing her forehead. “Mel, neither of us were ever geniuses, remember?"

I nodded absentmindedly, "Fine, we're two dunces, but together, we're as good as a mastermind. Enough talk. Get on with the files!"