Chapter 16 - THE RING IN THE BOX
Eleanor arrived with one suitcase and no advice.
That was unusual.
She spent two days holding Sophie.
Cooking.
Walking along the harbor.
Pretending she had not traveled three thousand miles with Emma’s wedding ring inside her handbag.
On the third evening, she placed the box on the kitchen table.
Emma stared at it.
“I don’t want to open it.”
“Then don’t.”
Emma looked at Eleanor.
“You really aren’t going to tell me what to do?”
“I did enough of that when you were married.”
Emma smiled faintly.
Eleanor pushed the box closer.
“The ring does not belong to Nathan.”
“It belonged to his grandmother.”
“And then she gave it to me.”
“And I gave it to you.”
Eleanor’s voice softened.
“It became yours.”
Emma opened the box.
The diamond caught the kitchen light.
She remembered the ballroom.
Olivia’s hand on Nathan’s shoulder.
Nathan smiling.
Her own fingers sliding the ring free.
Then another memory surfaced.
A kitchen table twelve years earlier.
Nathan wearing that ridiculous blue scarf.
No money.
No company.
No Olivia.
He had made pasta badly.
Emma had eaten it anyway.
Nathan had taken her hand.
“If I ever become one of those men who thinks money matters more than people, slap me.”
Emma had laughed.
“I’ll leave you.”
Nathan had grinned.
“Same thing.”
The memory hurt.
Because they had once known exactly what could destroy them.
They simply believed knowing was the same as prevention.
Eleanor touched Emma’s arm.
“Love is not evidence of compatibility.”
Emma looked at her.
“And regret is not evidence of change.”
“No.”
“Then how do I know?”
“You don’t.”
Eleanor gave her a sad smile.
“You watch.”
Emma closed the ring box.
That night, Nathan came for Sophie.
He saw the box immediately.
His face changed.
“Mom brought it.”
“Yes.”
Nathan looked away.
“I told her it was yours.”
“She said.”
Silence.
Emma picked it up.
Nathan tensed.
She did not put it on.
Instead, she placed it inside a drawer.
Nathan nodded.
Then Emma said, “I’ve been thinking.”
He waited.
“If we are ever going to see whether there is anything left…”
Nathan stopped breathing.
Emma continued.
“…we need structure.”
“Okay.”
“Therapy.”
“Yes.”
“Separate homes.”
“Yes.”
“A parenting schedule.”
“Yes.”
“No private emotional relationships with other people that your partner doesn’t know about.”
“Yes.”
“No using work to avoid conflict.”
“Yes.”
“No using Sophie to force closeness.”
“Yes.”
Emma studied him.
“And no promises about forever.”
Nathan’s eyes filled.
“What do we promise?”
Emma looked toward the drawer containing the ring.
“Ninety days.”
Nathan whispered, “Ninety days.”
“At the end, we decide whether we keep trying.”
Nathan nodded.
“I can do ninety days.”
Emma gave him a warning look.
He corrected himself.
May you like
“I want to do ninety days.”
For the first time, Emma smiled before he did.
