Who Wrote 'After I Returned The Rung'?

Isn’t it funny how love works? I have always loved Dreston, and he has always been the one for me—my first love. As a child, I loved him, as a teenager, nothing changed. And now, even as his wife, I still couldn’t love him any less. But he only ever loved Tina—my teenage best friend. She came into our lives and didn’t just take him away from me. She took my happiness, my laughter, and even the girl I used to be. I still remember her words to me: “You knew he was mine, yet you married him.” She made me feel like I was the villain. Maybe I was foolish to believe that love alone would bring him back to me. But nothing changed. He would always love her. I finally gave up the day I signed the divorce papers. I learned to let go, to move on, and to start fresh. And just when I had finally decided to start my life again—just when the universe rewarded me with a man who loved me unconditionally… Dreston came running back. Now he wants a second chance.

I married him when he couldn’t even open his eyes. Four years I sat beside Evanthe Blackwood’s bed. Keeping him alive while his family held their breath. The marriage was a contract. A legal arrangement. Nothing more. Nobody warned me that four years of silence could break a person open. Nobody told me that loving a man who couldn’t reject you was the most dangerous kind of loving there was. Then he woke up. He looked at me like I was a stranger who had broken into his house. To Evanthe I was an opportunist. A woman who had married a helpless billionaire for his name and his money. He decided who I was in the first five minutes and nothing I did was ever going to change that. He kept me anyway. For the heir clause. For the contract. Never for me. I should have left then. Instead I stayed and I hoped and I let myself believe that maybe underneath all that coldness something real was trying to get out. Then Sena came back. His first love. And I watched him look at her the way he had never once looked at me. So I left. No tears. No confrontation. Just his ring on the desk and my signature on the divorce papers. What he didn’t know was that I didn’t leave alone. Now he’s found me. Three years later. Standing at my door with regret all over his face and my daughter’s eyes staring back at him. But is sorry ever really enough?

In Hollow Creek, there was an old custom: if you turned thirty and still were not married, the community chair would arrange for you to come home and meet potential matches. When I told Marcus about it, he laughed coldly. “What kind of backwoods tradition is that supposed to be? “Constance, I said I would marry you, and I will. But pressuring me is something else.” Then he took out the ring and casually handed it to Hannah. She accepted it with a blush. “I was going to propose,” he said. “But since you want to act like this, maybe we should cool off for a while.” The ring I had waited years for was handed to someone else like it meant nothing. For a moment, I just stood there, stunned. Marcus walked out of my office with an easy confidence, the corner of his mouth lifted in a victorious smile. Hannah held the ring out to me. I did not take it. “Keep it,” I said. “Wasn’t it meant for you anyway? “You wear it. It suits you.” Her face went pale. I showed her to the door. Before closing it, I said, “Tell Mr. Vale that he and I are done.”

The night I sleep with Graham Rowland, he has just broken up with his girlfriend, Leanna Sandoval. Out of responsibility, he marries me. Our marriage is calm and steady. I once believe this is forever. But then, Leanna dies of illness. When he goes to mourn her, he learns that Leanna discovered what happened between us that night. That is why she loses hope and leaves him. At the same time, he discovers my secret diary of unrequited love. He becomes convinced that I deliberately destroyed their relationship and comes to hate me deeply. He divorces me, leaves me with nothing, and makes my life difficult at every turn. At the brink of death, I hear him say in an icy voice, "Your love disgusts me." When I open my eyes again, I return to two hours before the fateful event that night—when he is about to get drunk after the breakup. I grab my coat, rush out of the room, and knock on Leanna's door.

The richest man in the country, Sebastian Vance, has a ring custom-made to my exact measurements, worth billions of dollars, for the woman who will be his bride. In the first life, my stepsister, Mia Lowe, slips on the ring and marries him. Sebastian claws her face, shouting, "She's not the one!" In the second life, my other stepsister, Lorraine Lowe, loses 30 pounds before marrying him. He shoves her down the stairs anyway and says, "She's not the one either." In the third life, my stepmother, Vivian Cole, grits her teeth and slices off a piece of her own flesh just to force the ring onto her finger. Sebastian sneers and pushes her under the bathwater, holding her down until her body goes limp. By the fourth life, out of options and terrified, they finally send me. I slide the ring on, and it fits perfectly. My entire family lets out a sigh of relief. But the second Sebastian lays his eyes on me, he draws a knife and stabs me to death. "Why is it still not her? Where is she?" In the last life, he has his assistant, Owen Hayes, deliver a ring to us. All four of us insist that it won't fit. Owen shoots us a strange look. "Mr. Vance said the rightful owner of this ring is among you."

On our anniversary, Nina Reid took our daughter—and her assistant, Ray Chapman—out for another "family day." Without me. That was it. I filed for divorce. Right after signing the papers and boxing up my stuff, I heard a buzz from the corner. Old phone. Twelve years old. Buried in a drawer. The screen lit up with a number I almost recognized. Hand shaking, I picked up. A voice I hadn't heard in years. Young. Way too familiar. "Hey, Liam. I need to talk to you."