Chapter 2: The Woman Wearing My Ring
I stared at the photo until the screen blurred.
For a moment, I couldn’t understand what I was looking at.
My brain kept searching for another explanation.
A trick of the light.
A similar ring.
A stranger’s hand.
Anything.
Anything except the truth sitting in my palm.
The woman in the photo was standing beside Daniel in the kitchen of some house I didn’t recognize. She had one arm wrapped around his waist, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, and on her left hand was a thin gold band.
My gold band.
The one I had worn every day since our wedding.
The one Daniel had slipped onto my finger seven years ago while promising he would love me through everything.
My hands started shaking.
“Jasmine?””
Aunt Diane’s voice sounded far away.
I locked my phone immediately.
Too late.
She had already seen my face.
“What happened?””
“Nothing.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t lie to me.””
“I’m fine.””
“You’re standing in my living room looking like someone just told you your house burned down.””
I looked toward the hallway.
Kayla and Micah were sitting on the floor watching a movie, but I knew my daughter wasn’t really watching.
She was listening.
Children always knew when adults were pretending.
I lowered my voice.
“Can we not do this here?””
Aunt Diane glanced toward the kids.
Then she nodded.
“Kitchen.””
I followed her.
Every step felt heavier.
The kitchen was exactly how I remembered it. The same wooden table where I had done homework as a teenager. The same chipped blue mug sitting beside the coffee maker. The same small window above the sink where Aunt Diane kept a row of plants that somehow survived no matter how badly she forgot to water them.
It was strange how normal everything looked.
Because my life suddenly didn’t.
She leaned against the counter.
“What did Daniel send you?””
I looked down.
“Nothing.””
“Jasmine.””
I closed my eyes.
“Please.””
“No.””
Her voice softened, but she didn’t move.
“I’m not asking because I want to judge you. I’m asking because I’m scared for you.””
That broke something inside me.
I unlocked my phone.
I didn’t hand it to her.
I couldn’t.
I just turned the screen around.
For several seconds, she didn’t react.
Then her face changed.
Not anger.
Not surprise.
Something worse.
Disappointment.
“Oh my God.””
I looked away.
“I don’t know who she is.””
Aunt Diane stared at the picture.
“Jasmine.””
“I don’t know anything.””
“Where did he get this picture?””
“I don’t know.””
“Who sent it?””
“I said I don’t know.””
My voice cracked.
“I don’t know anything anymore.””
The words came out before I could stop them.
Aunt Diane walked closer.
“Sweetheart.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
I wiped my eyes quickly.
“I don’t get to fall apart right now.””
“Yes, you do.””
“No.””
I looked toward the living room.
“I have three kids who need me.””
“You are allowed to be hurt and still be their mother.””
I laughed once.
It sounded broken.
“Funny. Daniel doesn’t seem to remember that.””
Aunt Diane went quiet.
That silence told me she understood.
She had always understood.
“Did he ask you to meet him tonight?””
I nodded.
“Why?””
“He said he wanted to explain.””
“Explain what?””
I stared at the phone.
“I don’t know.””
Aunt Diane looked at the photo again.
“Then why would he tell you to come alone?””
I didn’t answer.
Because the same thought had been crawling through my mind since I saw the message.
He didn’t want Aunt Diane there.
He didn’t want anyone there.
And that meant he knew exactly what he was doing.
A small voice came from the doorway.
“Mom?””
I turned.
Kayla stood there holding a blanket.
Her eyes moved between me and Aunt Diane.
“What’s wrong?””
My heart broke.
Kids should never have to ask that question.
I forced myself to smile.
“Nothing, baby.””
She looked at my face.
“You’re crying.””
I quickly wiped my cheek.
“I got something in my eye.””
She stared at me.
Eight years old.
And already smart enough to know when someone was lying.
Aunt Diane stepped forward.
“Kayla, why don’t you help me make some hot chocolate?””
Kayla didn’t move.
“Is Dad coming home?””
The question hit harder than anything else.
I froze.
Aunt Diane looked at me.
I didn’t know what answer to give.
The truth?
That I didn’t know if her father was coming home.
That I didn’t know if he had already built a new life without us.
That I didn’t know if everything we had shared was real.
I knelt down.
“Sweetheart.””
She looked at me.
“Your dad and I are talking.””
“Because he’s coming back?””
My throat tightened.
“I don’t know.””
Her face fell.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
That tiny moment when a child realizes an adult doesn’t have all the answers.
“I thought he loved us.””
The sentence almost destroyed me.
I pulled her into my arms.
“He does.””
But even as I said it, I wondered if I believed it.
After a few seconds, she whispered.
“Then why did he leave?””
I had no answer.
So I held her tighter.
Later, after both kids were distracted and Noah was still asleep, I stood by the front door putting on my coat.
Aunt Diane watched me.
“You’re still going.””
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.””
“Why?””
I grabbed my keys.
“Because I need to know.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“You need him to tell you something that makes this hurt less.””
I looked at her.
“Maybe.””
At least I was honest.
She sighed.
“Jasmine, if you go there, promise me something.””
“What?””
“If he starts blaming you, you leave.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“Promise me.””
I looked at her.
She had a strange expression.
Like she knew something I didn’t.
“Why would he blame me?””
She hesitated.
Only for a second.
But I noticed.
“Aunt Diane?””
She looked away.
“Just promise me.””
A cold feeling moved through my stomach.
“What aren’t you telling me?””
“Nothing.””
“You know something.””
“No.””
“You do.””
She rubbed her forehead.
“Jasmine, please.””
That was when I knew.
Because Aunt Diane never said please unless she was scared.
“What happened?””
She didn’t answer.
“Aunt Diane.””
Her eyes met mine.
“I saw Daniel two days ago.””
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“What?””
“He came here.””
“When?””
“Tuesday night.””
“And you didn’t tell me?””
“He asked me not to.””
My heart started beating faster.
“Why?””
“He wanted to know if you had found anything.””
“Found anything?””
Aunt Diane looked uncomfortable.
“Jasmine…”
“No. What does that mean?””
She walked to the kitchen table and sat down.
“Daniel wasn’t just asking about you.””
“What was he asking about?””
She looked at me.
“The baby.””
A chill ran through me.
“What about Noah?””
Her face went pale.
“He asked if you had done the DNA test yet.””
The words didn’t make sense.
For a second, I honestly thought I heard her wrong.
“The what?””
Aunt Diane swallowed.
“The paternity test.””
The room tilted.
I gripped the door handle.
“No.””
“Jasmine—”
“No.””
My voice rose.
“Why would he ask that?””
Aunt Diane didn’t answer.
And that scared me more than anything.
“Tell me.””
She looked down.
“Because he thinks Noah might not be his.””
The pain that followed wasn’t immediate.
It was worse.
It was slow.
Like my body needed time to understand how deeply it had been cut.
Daniel left.
Daniel disappeared.
Daniel ignored his son.
And now he was questioning whether Noah was even his child?
“No,” I whispered.
Aunt Diane stood.
“Jasmine.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“That’s impossible.””
“I know.””
“Do you?””
She looked at me.
“Yes.””
Her voice was firm.
“Because I know you.””
For the first time that night, I believed someone.
But then my phone buzzed again.
Both of us looked down.
Another message.
This time from Daniel.
*If you still want the truth about Noah, come alone. If Diane comes with you, I won’t tell you anything.*
My fingers went numb.
Aunt Diane read the message over my shoulder.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Jasmine…”
“What?””
Her face had lost all color.
“That house on Maple Street…”
I looked at her.
“What about it?””
She whispered:
“That’s where your mother lived before she died.””
And before I could ask why Daniel wanted me there, Aunt Diane grabbed my arm.
“Don’t go.””
I stared at her.
“Why?””
May you like
She looked toward the dark window.
“Because Daniel isn’t the only person waiting for you.””