The Ring That Sank, The Love That Drowned Chapter 01
A Paris atelier sent over three one-of-a-kind couture gowns.
Spencer Vaughn’s assistant came to ask how the gowns should be divided between his wife and the woman everyone knew he favored. Spencer was with Vivian Hale as she tried on a diamond ring, and he answered without much thought, “Keep one for my collection. Give the other two to Vivian for her reception looks next month.”
The assistant hesitated before quietly reminding him, “Mr. Vaughn, Mrs. Vaughn still doesn’t have a gown for your tenth anniversary.”
Spencer paused, as though he had only just remembered I existed. “Then use the lace trimmed off Vivian’s hem to make her a short veil.”
It was nothing more than a scrap of leftover lace. After ten years of loving him, that was the only shred of dignity I had to show for it.
He blamed me for refusing to give up the only spot in a prestigious international fellowship program, convinced that I had cost Vivian her chance at an international career. That became his justification for freezing me out for most of our marriage.
Years later, when a terminal illness left him on the verge of death, he clutched my hand and asked whether I still resented him.
Outside his hospital room, the season’s newest couture arrivals were piled high. As always, there was one for him and two for Vivian.
For me, there was only a discarded strap left over from the tailor’s alterations.
I closed my eyes without answering.
When I opened them again, I was back ten years earlier, at the high-profile proposal gala that everyone had come to watch.
Smiling, the emcee held up the one-of-a-kind diamond ring and gestured toward the churning water of the ice-rimmed lake behind them.
“Whoever dives down and brings back the key gets to be the future Mrs. Vaughn.”
In my previous life, I had nearly drowned in that lake just to make Spencer look at me.
This time, I took half a step back and watched the ring disappear silently into the darkness below.
***
The ring made only one dark ripple as it sank.
The cheering along the shore died instantly. The emcee’s smile froze as they turned toward the production console, still holding the microphone.
A woman’s voice suddenly bled through the backup monitor.
“Get her a little farther forward. The camera can’t get her face from there.”
Her voice was quiet, but the production console was barely a step behind me. I heard every word.
It was Vivian.
I hadn’t heard that in my previous life. All I had heard was the crowd shouting, “Jump, Natalie Sinclair! You’ve been chasing Mr. Vaughn for years. Don’t chicken out now!”
That night, I was choking on lake water. By the time I found the key and hauled myself ashore, three of my fingernails had torn back.
Spencer had still wrapped his coat around Vivian’s shoulders, saying she had been terrified by what happened.
Now the wind swept off the ice, and I stood at the edge without moving.
Spencer finally looked at me. He wore a black suit with silver cuff links.
I had given him those cuff links the year before. He had called them too plain and never worn them. The only reason he had put them on tonight was that Vivian had casually said they looked good.
“Natalie.”
The low, clipped way he said my name carried a warning: don’t embarrass him.
Vivian stood wrapped in a white shawl, her eyes red at the corners—just enough to make her look wounded.
“Natalie, are you afraid of the water? If you are, we can forget it. Spencer won’t blame you.”
When she finished speaking, she lightly rested her fingers on Spencer’s sleeve.
He didn’t pull away.
He looked at me and said flatly, “It’s just a game. Don’t ruin it.”
So this was just a game.
They were using an icy lake, a key, and my life to prove whether I was worthy of standing beside him.
I took half a step back. My heel cracked a thin skin of ice beneath me with a faint snap.
The emcee hurried to smooth things over. “Ms. Sinclair, the divers are standing by. Mr. Vaughn just wanted to give you a proposal you’d never forget.”
Another line came through the monitor.
“Keep the divers back. It looks better if she gets it herself.”
I turned toward the production console.
A backup camera was already rolling, its red tally light on and its lens trained on the shoreline.
So while I had been fighting for my life in the lake the first time around, someone onshore had already adjusted the camera’s focus.
Spencer glanced at his watch.
“Ten minutes.”
Vivian gave a small cough.
Spencer immediately took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
I stood bare-shouldered in the wind off the lake, my dress hem soaked with slush and my ankles numb from the cold.
A server carrying a blanket started toward me, but a single look from Spencer stopped them.
“She chose this.”
I had heard that line for ten years.
I got sick from the cold, and that was my choice.
I took the blame for Vivian, and that was my choice.
I slept alone for ten years, and that was my choice.
This time, I didn’t take another step toward the lake.
I turned and walked back toward the ballroom.
Behind me, Spencer’s voice finally hardened.
“Natalie, if you walk out of here tonight, you’d better be ready to live with it.”