Chapter 4: The Net Loft

My mother's ring was gone from the dresser drawer.

I went through it twice.

Socks, a watch, a drawer full of hockey ticket stubs, and under the socks a small pink pawnshop slip.

It was dated Wednesday.

Magnus stood in the bedroom doorway with his hands in his pockets, looking at the ceiling to give me privacy.

Trevor's apartment was quiet and clean and smelled like his cologne.

Three years of my life fit into two suitcases and a laundry basket.

"He pawned it," I said. "The day after I left."

"How much did he get?"

"Four hundred and twenty dollars." I read the slip again. "It was appraised at four thousand."

"I'll pay it."

"No."

"Linnea."

"My money, my mother's ring." I zipped the suitcase. "You said I keep my own money."

"I did say that." He took the laundry basket from me, since I wasn't going to give it up fast enough. "I didn't know you'd use it on the first day."

The pawnshop was on Superior Street between a vape store and a tattoo place.

The man behind the counter had a magnifying visor pushed up on his forehead.

"Four-twenty plus interest," he said. "Four-sixty."

I counted it out of my own wallet, bill by bill.

He put the ring in a velvet pouch, and I held it in my fist outside on the sidewalk and let the cold air hit my face.

It was a small diamond in a thin gold band.

My mother had worn it for thirty years of dish soap and gardening.

"Thank you," I said, "for not paying."

"It wasn't easy." Magnus held the truck door for me. "It took everything I had."

I laughed.

I didn't mean to.

It was the first time since Tuesday.

Keep reading free with an account. Start I Didn't Marry Him, I Married The One He Hated from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.