"I get it." Jack leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, aggravation plain on his face. "You think I'm bitter because of loss? That I haven't given up the ghost? That I haven't learned to live with pain? You've got some romance novel fantasy thing going through your head? Is that it?"
Sarah felt a frown pull at her lips. Then why would he still wear… She felt her eyes shifting to his ring before she could stop them.
He followed her gaze and placed his left hand on the table, splaying his fingers. His voice was quieter, raw and edged. "I remember everything about her, even five years later. I don't need a ring for that."
Sarah was frozen in place, chained by his emotion.
"She deserved better," he said, and his voice was oddly flat. "I knew it then, and I couldn't help myself." His tone twisted, becoming almost cruel. "She probably should have been cheating on me. She might be alive if she had."
Abruptly, he shoved his chair back. "I should have left it at your apology. I thought—well, that was more for your sake, anyway, wasn't it?"
She jerked as if he'd hit her.
He rose from his chair, leaning down with tight hands against the table. "I wear it as a warning to myself." He paused, and the streetlight found flecks of silver in his eyes. "It has nothing to do with her. Nothing."
"A warning," she whispered.
"Yeah, a warning." He flung the chair in against the table, a loud scrape of metal against stone. "Don't [Not to] fucking do it again."
Nice scene and dialogue. Some of it cryptic without context, but that's not a bad thing.