Silvia almost missed her flight, too absorbed staring at the tiny thing on the table before her.

What on God's green earth was that thing doing there, and in her keep?

That white-gold band with a little, discreet diamond.

An engagement ring.

That frigging coward! Throwing it at her from ten feet away!

But no matter the delivery method, Jim had given it to her.

His mother's, he'd said.

Bring it back, he'd said.

She felt lucky her brain was able to register the last boarding call. She looked up, startled, and jumped to her feet. She was about to hurry away when she remembered the ring. Actually, it was more like feeling a leash tugging at her neck, stopping her from walking away from the table.

She spun around on her heels and scowled down at the damned thing.

"You..." she growled.

The moment she had it in her hand again, she realized how small and light it was. She might lose it if she wasn't careful. Dammit. She would spend the coming weeks obsessing over the damned thing, always afraid of losing it.

On the way to the boarding gate, she considered her options to keep it safe. A neck chain sounded fine, but anybody could yank it away on the street. And she had none right then. However, she had ten places to keep the thing in sight and make sure it was still there and safe. She walked down the jetway with her eyes looking straight ahead as she tried the thing on the ten options.

The words coming from her lips under her breath shouldn't have been about the man she loved. But Jim hadn't downgraded her seat to business like she'd asked. And of course the only place where the thing fitted like a glove was her left ring finger.

She declined the champagne as waves of heat and cold washed over her face nonstop.

Over the long flight, she had plenty of time to get used to the light weight around her finger, and let her thumb rub it, spin it, as her hand adjusted to its alien presence.

But the time she landed in Ezeiza, she felt confident the thing was safe where it was, and her mind had already been able to divert from it.

Juan was waiting for her at the airport, like the last time she'd traveled to America, two years earlier. On the way to the small apartment he and Rob shared, he told her they'd invited Mika and Lorena over for dinner, and—

"What's that?"

Juan's abrupt change of subject made her look up from the cigarette she was lighting, her nicotine addiction rioting after so many hours gagged and locked up.

"What's what?"

"That. In your finger."

"Oh, it's a ring."

"I'm familiar with the concept. Maybe I've watched too many movies, but this one looks oddly engaging."

Silvia stretched her fingers, tilting her head to study the thing. "You think?"