The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 40

She forgot? How was that even possible? Every year, she spent weeks preparing for Archie's birthday. Even as their relationship had grown colder over the last few years, Sloane had never once forgotten to celebrate their son's birthday.

Garrison stood rooted to the spot, replaying the words in his head to make sure he hadn't misheard, when her voice came through the speaker again.

"Where is the party?"

"Foster Manor," Garrison spat out coldly.

"Got it. I'll head over tomorrow morning for his birthday."

With that, the call disconnected.

The repetitive beep of the dead line was deafening in the dead-quiet apartment.

Garrison stood perfectly still, his phone still pressed to his ear. Slowly, he lowered his arm. His eyes drifted to the agreement on the dining table, and then to the jewelry store bag he was still gripping in his other hand.

The black velvet box. The silver ribbon. It was an exquisite joke.

He stared at it for a few seconds, then the corner of his mouth twitched into a helpless, mocking smirk. He turned, walked into the kitchen, and popped the lid of the trash can.

*Thud.*

The ring, bag and all, was tossed inside, hitting the bottom of the empty bin with a hollow thud.

*

The next morning, a cab pulled up outside the antique wrought-iron gates of the Foster Estate.

Sloane pushed the car door open. The morning sun was glaring. The sprawling manor—which held five years of her marital memories yet always made her feel like an outsider—stood quietly behind the towering oak trees.

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