Chapter 3

I had just finished tying up the trash bag when more than a dozen people filed into the living room.

Erin sat on the couch, her expression cold, while Mark stood beside her, looking like a child who had done something wrong.

The moment their friends walked in, they started blabbering.

"Richard, we're practically family. Is a public shaming session really necessary?"

"Erin even went to the trouble of calling us here. You should appreciate that."

"Fine. We'll apologize. Who wants to go first?"

They didn't sound like they were here to apologize. Instead, it sounded like warm-up banter before another game.

Erin looked at me. "They are all here. You can speak now."

I stood beside the coffee table where the ring lay.

Someone noticed it then and joked, "Wow, he still hasn't put his ring back on! He's really holding onto that grudge today."

Mark immediately spoke up, "Stop egging him on. Richard is really mad."

But the more he tried to talk them out of it, the louder their mockery grew.

One of them, named Nathan Ziegler, connected his phone to the TV. "How about we do a replay and see exactly at what point Richard lost his cool?"

The TV lit up, showing the private room from earlier that evening.

Mark was holding the prenatal test report, and I was standing in front of him, looking pale. Erin stayed silent, merely looking at me with a smile.

Nathan paused the video and pointed at the TV. "Erin couldn't keep a straight face here. She was trying so hard not to laugh."

Everyone broke out laughing.

Erin frowned. "Nathan, turn it off."

Nathan ignored her and resumed the video. It showed me taking off my ring and telling them that I was not playing along anymore. The camera wobbled for a moment, capturing Mark nearby, trying to suppress a smile.

Group chat notifications kept popping up across the top of Nathan's phone screen.

"Richard's acting is really good this time."

"Erin, your husband is quite something."

"I bet 100 dollars that they'll make up by tomorrow."

Erin stood up abruptly and switched off the TV. "Enough!"

The group fell silent.

I looked at her. "You think that's enough too?"

She avoided my gaze. "They just took the video for fun. No one actually wanted to hurt you."

"Oh? So that makes it okay to keep hurting me?"

Nathan mumbled, "Richard, why are you making such a big deal out of this? We didn't post the video publicly. I only sent it to our group chat."

Mark's face paled. He instinctively glanced at Erin.

I caught it, and so did she. Her voice dropped. "Mark, you posted the video?"

Mark clenched his fists. "I posted it to my Instagram Story, which was visible only to friends, and deleted it soon after."

Erin's expression darkened. "Who told you to post it?"

Mark looked upset. "I thought everyone would find the video funny. I didn't expect Richard to be so bothered by it."

Erin closed her eyes in irritation. Then, she looked at me. "He's already deleted it. Stop dwelling on it."

She said it again.

When Mark damaged my computer, she told me to let it go. When he joked at my promotion party that I had gotten ahead by riding on Erin's coattails, she told me to let it go. When he dug out my test reports and showed them to their friends, joking that he should start preparing to be a godfather, she still told me to let it go.

I suddenly realized that Erin did understand boundaries after all. She had simply allowed others to step on mine.

I walked over to the entryway and grabbed my car keys.

Erin immediately stopped me. "Where are you going this time?"

"To the hotel."

"For what?"

Mark pulled on the hem of her shirt. "Erin, stop arguing with Richard. I'll leave. This is all my fault."

He turned too abruptly, stumbled, and bumped into the coffee table. The ring rolled off and landed beside the trash bag.

Erin steadied him almost instinctively. "Be careful."

The others surrounded him.

"Mark, are you okay?"

"Did you sprain your ankle?"

"Erin, quick. Check on him."

I bent down to pick up the ring, but Mark stepped on it first. As if he hadn't noticed, Mark said remorsefully, "Richard, please don't leave. I'm really sorry."

I looked at the sliver of silver beneath his shoes.

Erin followed my gaze and frowned. "Mark, lift your foot."

Mark hurriedly stepped back, revealing the ring that had been crushed out of shape.

Silence enveloped the living room.

Erin picked the ring up. "I'll get it fixed tomorrow."

I took it from her and looked at the date of our wedding engraved on the inside of the band. Now, the numbers were crooked. "No need."

Erin looked at me as I threw the deformed ring into the trash bag, along with the suit and the ruined boutonniere.