Erlene picked up the last twenty-dollar bill. She walked to the trash can to throw away a tissue and saw the wedding photo facing up through the broken glass.
Ephram looked young in the picture. He was wearing a suit that didn't fit right, but his eyes were locked on her. He looked like he was the luckiest man in the world.
She remembered that day. He had bought her a ring. It wasn't big. The diamond was barely visible. But he had worked two jobs for six months to buy it.
She touched her left ring finger. It was bare. She had taken the ring off weeks ago and thrown it in the junk drawer.
The doorbell rang.
Erlene shoved the photo deeper into the trash. She smoothed her hair and opened the door.
Andrew stood there holding a takeout bag from a Thai restaurant. "I figured you hadn't eaten. I got your favorite."
He walked in like he owned the place.
"Thanks, babe," Erlene said, trying to push away the memory of the photo.
Andrew looked around. "The loser is gone?"
"Yeah. Just left. Signed everything."
Andrew walked to the table and picked up the papers. He whistled. "Clean break. No assets. Smart man."
He opened the junk drawer, pretending to look for a fork. He rummaged around until his fingers closed over the small velvet box.
He pulled out the ring. He held it up to the light, squinting. "God, look at this thing. It's microscopic. How did you wear this embarrassment for three years?"
Erlene blushed. "We didn't have money."
Andrew tossed the ring in the air and caught it. "Throw it out. It's trash. It doesn't suit a woman of your class."
Erlene hesitated. "Okay. Throw it out."
Andrew smiled. He didn't throw it in the trash. He slipped it into his pocket. Even a cheap diamond was worth a hundred bucks at the pawn shop down the street.
"Tomorrow, we go shopping," Andrew said. "A real ring. A Hanson ring."
"Really?" Erlene's eyes widened.
"Of course." Andrew kissed her forehead. "My wife deserves the best."
Erlene smiled, the doubt vanishing.
Outside, in the dark parking lot, Ephram sat in his car. He watched the silhouette of the two figures in the lighted window of his old apartment.
He saw them embrace.
He didn't feel angry anymore. He felt detached. Like he was watching a movie about someone else's life.
He started the car. The Honda rattled.
He reached over to the passenger seat. He picked up the black glasses. He looked at them for a moment, then tossed them onto the dashboard.
He put the car in gear. He drove out of the complex, turning right, away from the city center, toward the hills. Toward the iron gates of the George Estate.
