Page 142 of Bride By Coronation

Kirill told me she didn't know about the ring, so why is she telling me it's not mine?

She scrunches her face, as if in pain, declaring, "Your father designed a ring just like that. It was..." She looks away, and her entire body shakes.

Shame and guilt swirl so fast in me that I feel nauseous. I stay quiet, hating myself for allowing Kirill to give this to me but also not seeing how I couldn't have kept it.

She finishes, "Your father said he would make it for me when we renewed our vows." She grabs my hand again, and peers at it closer, adding, "It looks just like it, Fiona."

I open my mouth, and again, nothing comes out.

She stares at me with questions in her expression that I want to answer but can't. I finally offer, "I'm sorry this reminds you of the ring."

She insists, "It's exactly what he designed. I was in love with marquise-cut stones. I still am, but I swore I'd never wear one after your father died. And that ring is his design."

"It can't be," I lie, feeling more guilt and shame.

"I'll prove it to you." She gets up.

I rise. "Where are you going?"

"Just give me a minute," she says, entering her office.

I follow her.

She sits down behind the desk and turns on the computer. "I know that's the same ring he designed."

"Mom, you're being dramatic," I accuse, and immediately feel horrible for saying it.

Her computer boots up. She clicks the mouse a few times and then sits back. She points at the screen. "There. Look."

My hands go clammy. I cautiously step behind her, and it feels like my heart's squeezing. There's a photo of a drawing, and it looks exactly like my ring.

I ask, "Why is that on your computer?"

She admits, "This is the file of all your dad's drawings. I scanned the originals. Those are in the safe in New York."

"Why did you scan them?" I question.

She shrugs. "I don't know, but I did. They were one of the few things I kept of your father's."

"What else is on there?" I ask.

Her face darkens. She clicks a button and turns off her computer.

"Nothing."

"Mom?"

"Nothing is on there that you need to know about. Some things are meant to be private between your dad and me, and that's how it'll stay. Understand?" she asserts.

I hold my hands up. "Okay. Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you further."

She rises and puts her hand on her hip, pointing at me. "I want to know how you got that ring."

"Kirill gave it to me."

Her eyes narrow. "Yes, I understand that, but how did he get it?"

"Mom, it's just a ring."

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