The Ex Vows

by Jessica Joyce

I set my phone on the counter as Adam chatters on, picking up the ring. The paper is smooth and thick, layers folded meticulously by Eli’s attentive fingers. When he used to give me these, I’d be so careful slipping it onto my finger—my index or middle, or, after we started dating, my ring finger, but the right one. He’d trace a path behind it, help me push it down, then look up at me through his lashes, grinning. Sometimes his happiest smiles were his smallest ones, and his paper ring smiles were just the gentle upward curve of his mouth. “Looks good, Peach,” he’d murmur, bringing my finger up to his mouth. He’d bite down on my knuckle, hard and messy until I laughed, then softer, just the scrape of his teeth, until I shivered.