Page 14 of The Sculptor

Because those seasons are sacred.

It takes her a minute to respond. The chat bubble appears and then disappears before I get another text.Why don’t you date during those seasons?

My chest tightens at the memory—of her screaming as I held her, completely helpless and defeated. It’s time I can’t erase. I respond with:You know why.

This time, she never answers. The topic of discussion is something neither of us can speak of.

Tossing my phone in the desk drawer, I pause.

Don’t do it, dude. This is seriously unhealthy. The therapist told you to move on. Looking at it would be the opposite of moving on.

But then again, keeping it is likely worse.

Fuck it.

Slamming the top drawer, I pull open the bottom one, passing a dozen files, and stop. There, still sitting at the very bottom of my desk and underneath an old pair of gym shorts, is the little black box I’ve had since I was eighteen.

Fuck. This is a terrible idea.

But I’m notorious for indulging in bad ideas.

I blow out a breath and pick it up anyway, lifting the lid.

It’s been years since I’ve stared at this ring. The ridiculously small stone is set in a white gold band. It looks like something out of a cereal box and not an engagement ring. But that’s precisely what it is.

Some guys have big plans for their senior year—mine was a little more unconventional.

I wanted to go to college, but I never planned on going alone. At eighteen, I knew Ramsey Ford belonged at my side. And I planned on running off with her before her father married her to one of his buddies.

It was a solid plan.

And we executed it perfectly.

But then winter came and destroyed us.

“What in the total fuck do you have?”

At Remington’s voice, I snap the box closed and toss it back into the drawer like it was on fire. “What do you need?” I ignore the fact that he caught me with an engagement ring in my hand.

“Halle!”

I roll my eyes. “Must you always call for mommy?” Remington does not need to make everything an office affair by calling Vance’s girlfriend, his unofficial mom.

Remington grins. “Oh,‘Mommy’would have me by the balls if I didn’t let her in on this little scandal.”

“Whatever.” I can lie my way out of this. It’s not like it’s Va—

“Halle already left to check on Astor and the baby. What’s going on?”

Perfect. Vance is a little harder to lie to. He knows too much and is very familiar with what’s in the box.

“‘What’s going on,’” Remington points at me, “is your little brother has bought an engagement ring.” He thumps Vance in the chest. “Looks like one less lawsuit you’ll need to worry about.” He nods in my direction. “Who is it? Summer or Spring that finally tamed you? Should we start looking for a replacement at the front desk?” He turns to Vance. “Summer is the one who works out front, right?”

Vance doesn’t answer Remington right away. His body has gone rigid, the lines on his face harsh with controlled rage. “A patient is waiting on me in room five,” he says tightly, addressing Remington without ever taking his eyes off me. “Let her know I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Remington frowns, looking from Vance to me. “What’sreallygoing on?”

I grin. “Aww. It looks like this is a conversation for the grown-ups.” I shoo him with a flick of my hand. “Better do what Daddy says before he gets the belt.”

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