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In the third year of my marriage to Lucas Reed, the ring finally vanished from the depths of his study drawer. Inside the ring were carved the initials of his first love—Emily Lane. I was brewing herbal medicine for Mary, Lucas's mother, when the photo came through. Floor-to-ceiling airport windows behind them, Lucas bent to gently slide the ring onto Emily's finger. My phone screen was already cracked—from last week, when he shoved me while drunk.