The Woman in My Seat

I sank my weight into the wet spot, the icy liquid seeping into my expensive leather skirt.

The sticky, slimy sensation crept up my skin and straight to my heart, and I nearly threw up from the chill.

All through the drive, Kirk Church hummed a little tune I’d never heard before.

He was in a good mood and couldn’t care less about my misery.

We arrived at a restaurant. It was the most exclusive, hard-to-book Michelin-starred establishment.

Kirk didn’t apologize for what he said earlier or try to console me.

Halfway through the dinner service, Kirk pulled out a velvet box.

It was an engagement ring. The velvet casing was somewhat worn down, as if someone had been running their fingers over the fabric repeatedly.

“Put it on, Sandra. We’ve been together for seven years. It’s time to show the family it means something.”

Kirk didn’t even rise to his feet or get down on one knee.

As the ring slipped onto my ring finger, my heart had never felt so heavy.

A size too big, the ring hung loosely around my finger.

Kirk took my finger measurement three years ago.

“The ring is too big, Kirk.”

He sipped his wine, his eyes darting away.

“I must’ve gotten it wrong. You can get it resized.”

Just then, the phone I’d left on the table lit up.

A message notification popped up from a contact saved as “Sunshine”.

“Mr. Church, I tried on the ring in your car just now, and I might have made it loose. I hope your fiancée won’t mind.”

My eyes scanned the message, then shifted to the stained ring on my finger.

So the ring wasn’t just for a proposal. It had already been someone else’s plaything.

My stomach lurched, and a wave of sickening disgust washed over me.

I took the ring off and slowly placed it into the scraps on my plate.

“Kirk, does everyone get to try on my engagement ring?”

With his face falling, Kirk slammed his cutlery on the table.

“Sandra, don’t push your luck!

“Who else but me can put up with your contamination anxiety and OCD?

“Eden was just curious. What does a naïve kid, fresh out of college, know?”

Kirk believed I was unreasonable, turning nothing into something it wasn’t.

He shoved his finger in my face, his gaze icy.

“If you won’t wear the ring, the wedding is off. Think very carefully.”

I stared at the man I had loved for seven years.

His face was the one I loved, but beneath it, he had rotted to the core.

Like the soaked passenger seat, Kirk was filthy through and through.

“Call it off then.”

I grabbed the napkin and carefully wiped my finger.

“I never have any use for ruined, filthy things.”

…

Kirk didn’t take my breakup seriously.

He posted on social media, “You can’t spoil women. They stop being cute once their drama gets too far.”

The next day, I showed up at work right on time.

I had been with the company since day one, serving as its CFO and co-founder.

As I approached my office, I noticed the door was left ajar.

I pushed the door open, my breath hitching.

Eden White, the intern, was lounging right in my office chair.

She cradled my coffee mug, the gift Kirk bought me for our fifth anniversary.

Even more revolting was the oversized white shirt she had on.