Chapter 4

Antonio came out with warmed milk. "Why aren't you eating? Not to your taste? These bagels and milk are your favorites. I got up early and waited in line for them."

He was right.

They were my favorites, but seeing a photo of the same bagels and milk on my phone made my stomach churn.

He was thorough, always preparing two of everything. He never shortchanged anyone.

"No appetite," I said curtly.

Antonio didn't get mad. He just ate the leftovers.

Watching him, I wondered if he'd eat Clarisse's leftovers too. The thought gave me goosebumps.

His voice brought me back to reality. "Your birthday's coming up. Any gift you want?"

An idea hit me as I looked at his smiling face. "There is a rare diamond ring at the auction. How about that?"

I showed an expectant look, curious if he could manage two identical rings.

On the eve of my birthday, Antonio came home at midnight.

He'd been scarce, claiming he was securing the ring. Half-asleep, I felt him slide something onto my finger.

He whispered, "Happy birthday, honey. I got your diamond."

But he reeked of a sharp perfume—the same one Clarisse wore.

I snapped awake, shoving him away and yelling, "Get away from me! You stink."

My cold glare landed on him. He froze, stunned.

After a moment, he stammered, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I must've picked up some perfume planning your birthday party. I'll wash it off."

He tiptoed to the bathroom.

I stared at the ring, lost in thought.

Before he returned, I'd gotten another anonymous text. Clarisse's finger wore a nearly identical ring.

I couldn't describe the feeling. My eyes welled up.

Antonio came back, gently hugging me and wiping my tears. "It's your birthday. You should be happy. Are you crying because the ring is so perfect?"

He sounded proud.

I shook off his embrace, grabbed a pillow and blanket, and headed to the guest room.

Panicked, he followed, grabbing the door handle. His voice shook with panic. "What's wrong? Why aren't you talking? Did I screw up anything?"

I laughed out loud.

I hadn't planned to confront him yet, but his words pushed me over the edge.

"You've done enough, treating me like a fool," I said. "How could I say you're not good enough? I'd be lucky to get even a fool's treatment."