What Is The Meaning Behind 'The Ring I Dropped For A Goodbye'?

On our wedding day, my bride insists on wearing an old, beat-up watch with the million-dollar wedding dress I buy her. I call off the wedding on the spot. She looks at me in shock. "You called off the wedding just because of a watch?" I take out the divorce agreement and tell her to sign. "Yes. Because of that watch." Everyone calls me crazy. They cannot believe I would end a ten-year relationship over something so worthless and file for divorce in front of everyone. Dad walks up and slaps me across the face. "Get on your knees, you disgrace." My mother-in-law shrieks that I have ruined her daughter's future by returning her like damaged goods. I look at the watch on her wrist, which is stopped at 3:07, and I smile. Then, I phone my assistant. "It's time. Release everything. I want a divorce."

My fiancé, Dominic, heir to the Carvalho crime family, vanished for four days. I thought a rival family had put a bullet in his head. Then I saw his ex’s Instagram story. A shot of them in bed. The caption: He still knows every inch of me. His face was hidden, but his hand wasn't. And on it, the ring I gave him, resting on her skin. That night, Dominic came home. He brought me white roses, my favorite. I asked him why. Why he'd lie. Why he'd sleep with her. He brushed it off. Just a "misunderstanding." I was done. I threw the ring in his face. Burned the wedding dress. Told him we were over. He thought I was just throwing a fit. He didn't get it. Not until he realized I was walking away for good. Then he panicked. Begged me to come back.

At a mafia family banquet, my boyfriend of five years, Emilio Gimondi, gives away the ring that symbolizes the family's Donna to his childhood friend, Carlotta Lecce. Someone asks in astonishment, "You gave the ring to Carlotta? Isn't Ms. Rinaldi going to be angry?" Emilio looks completely unconcerned. "A proposal is just a formality. Zita is going to be the Donna eventually. She doesn't need to throw a tantrum over a ring." Carlotta makes a point of flashing the ring in front of me. "Zita, isn't it pretty?" Emilio thinks I'll react the way I always have—in anger and jealousy. Instead, I simply watch them quietly and say that it does indeed look nice. He relaxes, thinking that I've finally learned my place. He promises that once we marry, he'll make it up to me with something much better than that ring. But what he doesn't know is that I've already been accepted into medical school. Very soon, I'll be gone.

For ten years, I have stayed by Maren Hale's side without her formally acknowledging me as her boyfriend. Thus, I become the oldest kept man in Harborfield. After I turn 30, I have asked her to marry me more than 30 times. Each time, she smiles and kisses me. "Reid, I'll marry you when I'm ready," she says. When I'm 31, a car accident nearly kills me. Still shaken, I propose to Maren. She tells me to wait a little longer. By the time I'm 33, a doctor warns me that my kidney function is declining. I wave the diagnosis report in front of her and press for marriage. Yet, she still tells me to wait. While I wait for her, the sun rises and sets over Mount Carlisle more than 3,600 times. Finally, I think she is ready. Holding back tears, I promise my seriously ill father that he will live to see me get married. What I don't know is that Maren is not opposed to marriage. It's just that the ten years she spends fooling around with me are nothing more than an act of rebellion against her mother, who has driven away her former fiancé. Before the banquet, I see the ring I give Maren inside her handbag. I think she is finally going to accept my proposal. Nervous and hopeful, I wait the entire evening. But just moments ago, during a game of dare, she casually tosses the ring to a male model she has just met. "The kid is turning 20. A pink diamond suits him perfectly. Next time, I'll have an emerald one made for us." The entire room bursts into laughter. I laugh along with them. "Don't bother," I said. "Someone else already has a rock waiting for me, and I said yes."

The day my boyfriend, Lucian Farrell, and I, Roxanne Schmidt, decide to register our marriage, the million-dollar diamond ring he'd promised me turns into a can tab. So, I broke things up with him on the spot. In a panic, Lucian fishes out the purchase receipt. "I just forgot to bring the ring. If it bothers you, I can go home and get it right now," he coaxes. My gaze lands on the figure hurrying toward both of us. "There's no need for that. Your 'little shadow' has already brought it over for you," I replied indifferently. Evelyn Wiley rushes up before me with tears in her eyes. A large diamond ring is wedged tightly around her swollen ring finger. "I just wanted to help Ms. Schmidt try the size. But it wouldn't come off no matter how hard I tried…" she explains between sobs. Lucian's face darkens instantly. "Who said you could touch it? The ring was meant for Roxanne!" he snaps. He wrenches at the ring, but it doesn't budge at the slightest. I watch the commotion before me with my arms folded. All of a sudden, a laugh escapes me. "It's simple. If it won't come off, then we can just cut her finger off."

Ten days before the wedding, my fiancée spent over a hundred million to buy Marcus Collins a luxury yacht. So, I silently threw away the matching rings I had once planned to give her. Seven days before the wedding, she spent 50 million dollars to celebrate Marcus' birthday. Thus, I set fire to the photo album that held every memory of our past. Three days before the wedding, she wore the ring I had used to propose, and she kissed him deeply by the sea. Today, I finally chose to step aside. I notified our families and friends that the wedding was canceled, and I personally returned the engagement tokens to the Yardley family. Lowering my head, I said softly, "Mr. and Mrs. Yardley…I've always known I'm not worthy of Claire. I hope you can understand."