The Ring That Sank, The Love That Drowned Chapter 10

The Ring That Sank, The Love That Drowned Chapter 10

My assistant later told me Spencer locked the 

useless key and the old silver bracelet together in 

his safe. 

There was an old sketch in there too. 

Back in college, I had casually sketched a tie. 

design for him. 

He later sent the tie to one of Vivian’s art 

exhibitions, where it was used as part of the 

opening–night decor. 

He kept everything. 

And somehow, he had still been willing to give 

everything away to her. 

I didn’t ask about it. 

By then, I was in Paris. 

The lights over the runway were bright as daylight. 

The designer personally brought me the 

show–closing couture gown. 

“Ms. Sinclair, this is the only one of its kind this 

season. We held it exclusively for you.” 

I ran my fingers over the skirt. 

No discarded lace. 

No leftover strap. 

No scraps handed down from someone else. 

My phone buzzed. 

Spencer had sent me a photo. 

The diamond ring in the picture had lost its shine 

after spending so long underwater. 

Spencer: [Natalie, I got the ring back.] 

A few seconds later, another message appeared. 

Spencer: [I know I can’t make up for what I did. But I still want to ask–could you look back at me, just once?] 

I stared at the screen for a long time. 

I wasn’t moved. 

It only felt absurd. 

In my previous life, Spencer had been dying from a 

terminal illness when he clutched my hand and 

asked whether I still resented him. 

I never answered. 

In this life, he was alive and well, and he had finally 

learned to ask whether I was hurt, whether I was 

cold, whether I still resented him. 

But I no longer wanted to answer. 

Me: [Spencer, pulling a ring out of the lake doesn’t make it new again.] 

He never replied. 

After I returned home, I saw him outside Sinclair 

Group. 

He had lost a lot of weight, and his suit hung. 

loosely on him. 

He was carrying a cup of hot lemon tea. 

“Your knees ache when you’ve been out in the 

cold.” 

I took the tea from him and dropped it straight into 

the trash. 

The color drained from his face. 

“Natalie…” 

“Mr. Vaughn, spare me your too–late concern.” 

He stood in the rain, his eyes red. 

“I know I have no right to ask you to forgive me.” 

“Good. At least you know that.” 

Reid’s car was waiting a short distance away. 

His driver opened the door for me. 

Spencer suddenly asked, “Are you going to marry 

him?” 

I didn’t turn around. 

“That’s none of your business.” 

Later, Vivian was sued over multiple acts of 

business fraud and malicious defamation and 

disappeared from public life entirely. 

Vaughn Group’s planned overseas listing fell 

through. 

The Vaughn matriarch fell ill and never again 

asked me to return. 

Every year on the anniversary of the proposal gala, Spencer spent the entire night standing beside the 

lake. 

Someone once asked who he was waiting for. 

He said, “For the woman I pushed under with my 

own hands–and who will never come back to 

shore for me again.” 

When I heard those words, I was in Paris signing 

the next season’s partnership agreement. 

Snow was falling outside. 

Reid was waiting by the entrance with an 

umbrella. 

“Cold?” 

I shook my head. 

He hadn’t given his coat to someone else first. 

And he didn’t make me stand in the cold to prove 

anything. 

Snow settled softly against the umbrella, quiet as 

a long–overdue new beginning. 

Carrying the couture gown that belonged to me 

alone, I walked toward the lights. 

This time, I didn’t have to make do with scraps of 

dignity left over after someone else had been 

favored first.