Two Rings, One Betrayal

My golden retriever, Finn, swallowed my engagement ring. My fiancé blocked the clinic door. He demanded we let nature take its course. Major red flag.

I sneaked Finn out for an endoscopy anyway. The vet dropped the extracted rings into a steel tray.

My lungs seized.Finn didn't just swallow one ring.Two identical diamonds clattered against the metal. One bore my initials. The other carried someone else's name.

Chapter 1 I gripped the foreign metal so hard the jagged edges bit into my palm. I needed to get home. I needed to look Dominic in the eye and ask him who the hell Skylar was.

I didn't even make it down the block. Right across from the animal hospital, outside a trendy bakery, I spotted him. Dominic hovered over a blonde girl, his posture submissive.

Groveling. "It's my fault, babe," he murmured, his tone sickeningly sweet. "I didn't protect your favorite ring.

I'll buy you a bigger diamond to make up for it, okay?" The girl popped her chewing gum, adjusting the strap of her edgy Y2K shoulder bag.

She wore lowrise denim and a tiny crop top. Metallic glitter coated her eyelids, catching the sunlight in a way that made my chest physically ache.

She was the exact opposite of the elegant, conservative type Dominic always claimed to prefer.

She lifted her foot and pressed the sole of her sneaker right into his open palm. "Kiss the bunny," she demanded, pointing to the fluffy charm on her laces. "Then you're forgiven." In the middle of a crowded sidewalk, my fiancé bent down.

He pressed his lips to the plush fabric on another woman's shoe. Bile surged up my throat.

I spun on my heel and bolted, my chest tightening so hard with every ragged breath that I felt starved for oxygen.

The stolen ring dug deeper into my flesh, a sharp reminder of the nightmare I had just walked into. I crashed through the front door of our townhouse.

My fingers shook violently as I forced his laptop open and hammered in the passcode. Skylar. A prevet student interning at his clinic. They didn't even bother hiding it.

They flirted openly on the company's internal messaging app. I scrolled up. "That skirt is way too short.

I'm territorial," Dominic wrote. "Take it off after class." Attached was a photo. Smooth, bare legs kicked up on the dashboard. My passenger seat. "Room's booked. Our usual spot.

Come straight here," he added. "Waiting for you. Xoxo," she replied. Ice flooded my veins.

My skin went numb. "You promised me Paris!" Skylar's message glared back at me. "It's been months! What does your fiancée's dead dad have to do with our vacation?

You always put her first!" "Chill, baby," Dominic typed back. "Flights are booked for the 10th. Seeing you smile is all I care about." I clicked into a desktop folder.

There she was. Skylar, standing under the Eiffel Tower on the night of the 10th, laughing at the camera. My father had been buried on the 7th.

While I spent those nights suffocating in the dark, clutching my phone and staring at the ceiling until dawn, Dominic claimed he was buried in backtoback meetings.

I played the supportive partner. I cut our calls short so he could focus. He wasn't working. He was playing sugar daddy to a college kid. I clicked the next arrow.

An old photo surfaced. Our trip to the Hamptons last summer. Dominic holding my hand, keeping a respectful distance.

He had even asked, "May I?" before pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. The next photo in the folder shattered that illusion. Dominic and Skylar, pinned against a hotel wall.

His hands tangled in her hair. Her lipstick smeared across his jaw. Hot and heavy. My stomach rolled. I dragged the mouse down to their latest messages.

They were talking about Finn. "Dominic! Finn swallowed my ring!

This is what happens when you leave the bedroom door open!" Skylar's text glared from the screen. "You little brat," Dominic replied. "Who begged for round two?

Next time, keep your hands off the dog when we're in bed." Chapter 2 Skylar spammed angry emojis down the screen. "You owe me an explanation about the ring!

Penalty: No touching me for three days!" The realization hit like a physical blow. Our home wasn't ours. She had marked her territory all over it. Even Finn walked in on them.

Repeatedly. I was the only idiot sleeping through the trespass. Hot tears blurred my vision, dripping off my chin before I even registered the physical act of crying. Three years.

We didn't have explosive, overthetop declarations of love, but I thought we were soulmates. Intellectual equals. Dominic used to be grounded. Professional.

I had fallen for him at that tech conference, captivated by the brilliance in his eyes when he spoke. He claimed he fell for my elegance. My poised outlook on the world.

Skylar didn't have a single ounce of poise. The puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. The recent shifts in Dominic’s wardrobe. The unbuttoned silk shirts.

The distressed, trendy denim replacing his tailored slacks. The sudden obsession with ordering flashy craft cocktails instead of his usual scotch. He didn't want a soulmate.

He wanted a thrill. He wanted someone unhinged. I was just the safe placeholder. The front door clicked. Panic spiked my adrenaline.

I scrambled to slam the laptop shut, but my clumsy fingers slipped. Dominic stepped into the living room.

His gaze darted from the two rings resting on the coffee table to the wet streaks destroying my makeup. His expression morphed instantly. Not into guilt. Not into concern.

He went straight on the defensive. "You took Finn to surgery?" Dominic barked. "Why didn't you wait for me?" Our eyes locked. The panic vanished.

A dead numbness washed over my skin. "When did it start?" I asked. Dominic flinched.

He broke eye contact, staring at the hardwood floor. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "I saw everything." I pointed a trembling finger at the glowing screen. "The texts.

The photos. The rings. Care to explain? Talk, Dominic. I'm listening." He pressed his lips into a thin line. Instead of answering, he crouched down and ruffled Finn’s ears.

The golden retriever, completely oblivious to the heavy silence in the room, thumped his tail happily against the rug. Sixty agonizing seconds ticked by.

The last shred of hope in my chest withered and died. "It's your intern, isn't it?" My voice cracked, raw and brittle. "If you love her, why did you propose to me?

You were never a cheat, Dominic. Is it really that hard to just admit you don't love me anymore?" He finally looked up.

His eyes swam with a twisted, rationalizing logic. "Sloane, those two things don't conflict. You are my fiancée," Dominic stated, his tone cold and practical. "I know my boundaries.

I know who belongs by my side." He stood up, running a hand through his hair. "Skylar and I have no future. Look at her age. She's still in college.

She knows nothing about the real world.

We're just… a temporary fling." A harsh, broken laugh scraped up my throat. "Do you hear yourself?" I choked out. "Do you think that makes this fair?" Dominic's volume spiked.

He threw his hands up. "Then what do you want from me? Sloane, we are engaged! Our parents paid for the venue. The dates are locked.

You want to blow up our entire lives over a mistake?" My jaw dropped. The sheer audacity paralyzed me. "You call fucking your intern a mistake?

You're just brushing off infidelity?" "I didn't cheat!" Dominic groaned, rubbing his temples like I was the unreasonable one. "We just vibe well. We got a little too close.

The ring was a lapse in judgment. I was drunk. She practically begged for it, so I bought it to shut her up!

It means nothing." He took a step toward me. "Sloane, I have limits." Limits. The word tasted like ash on my tongue. Pure, unadulterated gaslighting. A sharp chime pierced the air.

His phone lit up on the counter. Dominic! Come over tonight. Please? Dominic's eyes darted to mine.

In a desperate, pathetic show of loyalty, his thumb swiped across the screen, rejecting the call. Chapter 3 He tapped the screen. Block. Delete.

Then he shoved the glowing phone directly into my line of sight. "Happy now?" My vocal cords were paralyzed.

He reached out, dragging me hard against his chest. "Stop overreacting, Sloane. Please. The wedding is in a few months.

We promised each other forever, didn't we?" His familiar cedar scent flooded my senses. Nausea twisted my gut. The heat radiating from his body didn't comfort me. It burned.

It felt like a brutal, stinging slap across the face. My vision blurred. A ragged sob ripped past my lips. Dominic gently patted my back, misreading my breakdown. "It's over, baby.

I swear. Never again." I stayed in his arms, letting the tears soak his designer shirt. But the crying wasn't a release of forgiveness. It was the death of my delusion.

The absolute, chilling clarity of my next move. I had to leave him. Over the next few weeks, Dominic played the perfect fiancé. He bailed on happy hours.

He walked through the front door at six on the dot. My phone buzzed every three hours with a precise location update. Love bombing at its finest.

He dragged me to his firm's weekend dinner party. He played the doting partner, pulling out my chair, refilling my wine glass, playing to the gallery of his coworkers.

Until someone across the table casually dropped the bomb. "Hey, where's Skylar tonight?" The guy took a sip of his IPA. "Dominic, isn't she your star intern?

Haven't seen her around lately." The lively chatter flatlined. Complete, suffocating silence gripped the private dining room.

Every single pair of eyes remained glued to their plates, their drinks, the tablecloth. The collective guilt was deafening. Someone scrambled to do damage control. "Come on, man.

She's a college kid. Probably out partying. Quit keeping tabs on the interns." Glasses clinked in a frantic, forced rhythm. "Yeah, yeah.

Drink up!" I kept the plastic smile pinned to my face. My blood ran like ice water. They all knew. Every single one of them.

The illusion of our relationship was fractured. "I need some air," I murmured, sliding out of the booth.

The heavy oak door clicked shut behind me, but I didn't walk toward the patio. I pressed my back against the wall in the dimly lit hallway. The voices inside bled through the wood.

Dominic's furious hiss cut through the ambient noise. "What the hell is wrong with you? Bringing her up in front of Sloane?

Skylar and I are done!" The guy stammered out an apology. "My bad, boss. Foot in my mouth. I'll take a shot." "Keep her name out of your mouth," Dominic snapped. "I love Sloane.

You all know that." A chorus of nervous agreements followed. Then, another voice piped up, cautious but prying. "So… you're really going through with the wedding? Isn't it a shame?

You and Skylar had insane chemistry." "Yeah, man. She's been a ghost at the office. Eyes red and puffy every morning.

She's just a kid experiencing her first real heartbreak… it's brutal to watch." Dominic's voice dropped. Exhausted. Resigned. "Our families are already merged.

Plus, Sloane's dad just passed away. Her mom's health is failing. What else am I supposed to do?" A collective sigh of pity rippled through the room.

I gripped the mahogany windowsill. My fingers dug into the wood until my acrylic nail fractured down the middle. A sharp, stabbing pain radiated through my nail bed.

Hot, wet tracks coated my cheeks before I even realized I was crying again. This wasn't the marriage I signed up for. I wanted a partner obsessed with me.

I refused to be his goddamn charity case! Dominic didn't come home for the next four days. He packed a duffel bag for an outofstate tech summit.

In the past, I would have interrogated him about flight details, hotel names, and his return schedule. This time, I said nothing. Instead, he overcompensated.

The robotic checkins flooded my phone. "Sessions wrapped up early. Heading back to the hotel. Grabbing some steaks with the team." "Pouring rain here in Chicago.

Don't forget your umbrella today, Sloane." Chapter 4 "Missing Finn. Are you home? Want to see him. Want to see you too." I read every single text. I replied to none.

I was already used to his empty side of the bed. The silence in the house didn't even bother me anymore. The fragile quiet shattered on day five.

I was sitting at my office desk when my phone rang. The caller ID flashed the name of one of Dominic’s senior vets. "Sloane, get to the ER! Dominic got stabbed! It's your mom, too!

She's in emergency surgery right now!" My desk chair screeched against the floor. A deafening ringing hijacked my ears. The air evaporated from the room.

I gripped the steering wheel with numb, violently trembling fingers the entire drive to the hospital. The full, ugly reality came out in the waiting room.

Dominic had left Skylar alone to manage the clinic. An elderly golden retriever had died from postop complications. The owners had lost their minds.

They had rioted, demanding Skylar's head. Dominic rushed back just in time to play the hero, shielding her from the aggressive crowd.

My mother had simply stopped by to drop off homemade soup for Dominic. She walked straight into a war zone.

Someone screamed, "That's the head vet's family!" A paring knife plunged straight into my mother's stomach.

When I reached the surgical wing, Dominic sat slumped in the corridor chairs. Skylar hovered right next to him. They both looked battered, covered in bruises and dried blood.

The rest of the clinic staff formed a tight, protective circle around them.

I closed the distance between us, drew my arm back, and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength I had left. Skylar shrieked.

She lunged forward, grabbing my wrist. "What is wrong with you? Why are you hitting him!" I stared at her glittery, tearstreaked face.

My voice dropped to a dead, icy whisper. "Because my mother took a blade meant for him." I ripped my arm out of her grip. "Lower your voice, Skylar.

You don't get to defend him in front of me." "If you care so much, where were you when the knife came out?

What exactly were you doing while he used his body as your human shield?" Skylar’s face burned a violent shade of red. She shrank back.

Then, Dominic opened his mouth. "Sloane, don't take it out on her. She just graduated. She’s never dealt with unhinged clients before. She froze.

It's not her fault." A sickening static buzzed behind my eyes. My lungs physically burned. Blood literally seeped through his torn shirt.

My mother lay on an operating table fighting for her life. And he was using his breath to defend his intern. A hollow, broken laugh scraped up my throat. "Alright.

If that's how it is. We're done, Dominic. I was going to wait until your parents flew back into the States to break the news, but I’m done dragging this out.

I’ll wire the joint wedding funds back to your account. Tell your relatives to cancel their flights. The wedding is off." Dominic jolted.

Ignoring his bleeding ribs, he lunged forward and blocked my path. "No! I don't accept this! Sloane, she's my student! I had an obligation to protect her!

Crazy owners happen, nobody wanted this! Your mom was an accident, I