The Ninth Time I Took Off My Wedding Ring Chapter 06
I practically burst into the living room, my heart pounding with anticipation.
“Claire?”
But the figure before me made me freeze instantly.
It wasn’t her.
I stood in the doorway, watching Brianna rise gracefully from the sofa. Her silk robe flowed with her movement, revealing
slender calves.
“Clifford, you’re back? I made coffee and ordered your favorite- Then I saw it.
The way she walked. Light, steady, without any trace of a limp.
My gaze moved slowly from her face down to her legs.
For five years, every time I’d seen Brianna walk: a slight limp in her left foot, needing to hold onto walls or my arm for support, slow and painful going up stairs. She always said, “I got this injury when my father was shot protecting me.”
She never appeared without warning me first.
But now, her steps were as steady as a professional dancer’s.
“Your leg.” My voice was frighteningly cold.
Brianna’s smile froze. She instinctively stopped, glanced down
at her leg, then quickly looked back up. “I… I’m feeling much
better today. Maybe the surgery was successful, and I’m relaxed–”
“Your leg.” I cut her off, stepping forward. “It was never injured, was it?”
This wasn’t a question.
Brianna’s face instantly drained of color. She backed away, but
the sofa was behind her–nowhere to go. “I… I don’t understand
what you’re saying…”
I laughed, a cold, bone–chilling sound. “Five years. You faked a
limp for five years. Used your ‘dead father‘ as a shield, used your ‘disability‘ to gain sympathy, making me abandon Claire again
and again to ‘take care of‘ you.”
With each sentence, I took a step forward. “And you, from
beginning to end, were laughing at me.”
“Yes! I faked it!” Brianna suddenly screamed, her voice piercing enough to make me wince. “So what? If you hadn’t been willing to believe it, could I have fooled you for five years?!”
“Ask yourself honestly–these five years, were you really only with me out of ‘sympathy‘? Those kisses, those embraces, those late–night calls–were they all fake?!”
I fell silent.
Because what she said was true. Just not in the way she thought.
Those late–night calls were because I couldn’t face returning to an empty house; those embraces were because I was afraid of dealing with work stress alone; those kisses… were because I was too cowardly to admit I only needed companionship, not
love.
I used her feelings to fill the emptiness in my heart, while telling myself it was sympathy.
I was more pathetic than she was.
“Now that Claire’s gone, you suddenly become a romantic hero? Pushing all the blame onto me? Clifford, you’re more hypocritical than I am!”
The words stabbed into my heart like a knife.
“It was you.” My voice became terrifyingly calm. “You were the one who provoked her again and again, who created‘
emergencies‘ again and again, who forced me to choose between you two again and again.”
“If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have left.”
“We had an agreement.” My voice sounded hollow and terrible.” Today we were supposed to restore our relationship, we had an
agreement…”
I closed my eyes, my voice growing softer. “We had an agreement…”
But even if I repeated it a thousand times, it couldn’t change one
fact–I had never truly kept my promises to her.
Every agreement, I told myself it was the last time I’d betray her.
Every reconciliation, I swore I’d treat her right.
Then Brianna would call, and I’d abandon everything to run to her.
Because Claire was too good. So good that I thought she’d wait for me forever, forgive me forever, always give me chances to
start over.
Until she stopped giving them.
Brianna suddenly laughed, a twisted sound. “Restore your
relationship? Clifford, wake
“Claire’s never coming back.”
up.”
“She deleted your number, returned your cards, cut off all
contact with you. She didn’t even tell you where she was going- because she doesn’t want you to know.”
“You’ve been abandoned. By her. By the woman you’ve been calling and dismissing for five years. Abandoned.”
My breathing became rapid, my eyes becoming more bloodshot.
Brianna stepped closer, her voice vicious yet sickeningly sweet.” Admit it, Clifford. The one you love is me. You’re just too cowardly to face it—”
“Shut up.”
I grabbed her shoulders, gripping hard enough to make her cry out in pain. Then I shoved her backward violently.
Brianna crashed into the coffee table, knocking over scented candles. Hot wax splattered onto her hand. She screamed.
I didn’t look at her. I pulled out my phone and called security.” Send two men up. Throw Brianna and all her things out of my
house.”
“Now. Immediately.”
The door opened. Two security guards in black suits entered, walking toward Brianna with expressionless faces.
“Clifford! I love you! I really love you! You can’t-”
“Take her away.” My voice was flat, emotionless. “Throw out all her things. Leave nothing behind.”
The guards grabbed Brianna. She struggled, kicked, fought. Her robe’s sash came undone, her hair becoming wild and disheveled.
“You’ll regret this! Clifford! You’ll definitely regret this-”
Her voice was dragged out the door, fading into the distance.
Another guard cleaned up the scene, stuffing her belongings into trash bags.
Finally, the door closed silently behind the guards.
The living room suddenly felt vast and empty. Only wax stains
and coffee spills remained, and lingering in the air–bitter orange and cedar, Claire’s scent that refused to fade.
Just like my regret,