❁a ring around the finger

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❁ a ring around the finger

John placed Metilda on the bed. He pushed her against the headboard. Their hands roaming in places which hadn't been in explored in a while. He moaned softly in her hair and as if coming to her senses, Metilda jerked away from him.

She wrapped the blanket around her body. "Must be nice to have two women at your service?"

John looked at her incredulously, feeling as though she had slapped him. He ran a hand across his face, the haze in his mind deepening. He couldn't get himself to think straight.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He got up from the bed. The streetlights from the window danced off his bare chest.

"Forget it," She turned around but he caught her by the wrist and pushed her against the wall.

"I can't do that." He whispered.

When she didn't reply, he added the next part. "No, I haven't slept with Jannet. If that is what you're asking me."

"You know, John, I know all your weakness. You want me now because I'm letting you go."

"I'm curious. Why all of the sudden you're ready to take Louis's custody?"

Metilda smirked. It chilled John to the core. There was a dead light in her eyes, a lack of life. "You don't love me anymore, do you?"

"No." He replied in a firm voice. I never stopped loving you he thought.

"You won't forgive me, will you?"

He averted his eyes. "You should go,"

She spared him one look before walking away the little dignity she had left. John collapsed onto the bed. His head in his hands, he groaned. "You're a bloody idiot, John."

❁❁❁

John printed out the background verification papers of the elementary school's principal, Warren Thompson. Tired green eyes scanned the page. He hadn't slept a wink in last forty hours. Since he couldn't sleep, he thought he might as well come to work. That's the best part of working for the police, they don't put any time restrictions on you. As Sargent Sheffield said "It's about the quality, son not the quantity."

John weighted the thirty page stack in his hands. The ADI service department had really outdone themselves this time.

He scanned the narrow print. Nothing important came into view. Then his gaze stopped at a certain block of information.

[Prevιoυѕ occυpαтιoɴѕ] Tαɴvιlle Prιѕoɴ cαѕe мαɴαɢer: yeαr 1989 тo 2000

Developмeɴтαl Tαɴvιlle Prιѕoɴ Pѕycнιαтrιc Depαrтмeɴт: yeαr 2005*-2010 (*eɴrolled ιɴ Moυɴт Fαll colleɢe ғroм 2000-2005)

PнD ιɴ edυcαтιoɴ oвтαιɴed: yeαr 2011-2013

Prιɴcιple oғ Keтpαl Eleмeɴтαry Scнool: yeαr 2014- preѕeɴт (*ɴo тrαceαвle locαтιoɴ вeтweeɴ yeαr 2013-2014)

"No traceable location, huh?" John leaned back in the leather chair. "Not much of proof but what the heck was he doing then?"

This was probably one of the most confusing cases John had ever dealt with in his career of six years. The entire case was built on one small detail. On 23rd February, three in the morning, an extremist group's call was received on Warren Thompson's cellphone. The content of the call: unknown. After that the police has been keeping track of his IP address. Not much suspicious activity there, the old man mostly visited the school's website.

John picked up his phone, hoping to text Jannet Good morning. It was a sort of habit he had developed over the past year.

March 5, 2015 the phone's screened blinked. John twisted the ring around his finger.

"Metilda" He breathed out as his mind took him down memory lane. "Today was the day Jannet took your place."

John paced infront of the emergency room. His aunt was in a critical state. She had a cardiac arrest in her sleep last night. John didn't know what to do. Other than Louis and Metilda, Aunt Rein was the only family he had left. She had raised him as her own son when his parents had died in an accident.

Trembling, John reached for his phone and dialed Metilda's number. He waited and waited for her to pick up but she didn't. After his the twentieth try, John gave up.

The police officer who had brought Aunt Rein to the hospital walked over to him. John recognized her from the police department. Jannet was her name. They had met a few times and were causal acquaintances.

John hated a stranger to see him in a blubbering mess. Jannet placed a hand on his shoulder. She didn't say anything, she didn't need to. Support was what John needed at the moment.

Two hours later when the doctors announced his aunt dead, Jannet was the one who held John in her arms while he cried. She was the one who stayed by his side at his aunt's funeral. She was the one who picked up John's broken pieces as he fell apart.

❁❁❁

"I wasn't there for him." Metilda spoke with Tara at their favorite tea shop. The black ink haired woman frowned.

"You tried your best. It wasn't your fault that you had gone for an assignment to the Caribbean's. You guys needed the money then."

"That's not the worst part. I purposely left my phone at home. I just wanted a break from him. I just wanted to clear my head and rethink our relation."

Tara didn't seem surprised by the piece of information, or atleast she pretended not to be. The only time her sister does something selfish is the time when her husband needed her the most.

"There is still hope," Tara whispered.

"No, there isn't."

Tara stared at her sister. "Metilda, why do I feel like you don't even want to try fixing your relation with him?"

Metilda gazed at the golden ring around her finger. "Maybe I'm tired, Tara. Maybe I don't have a reason to fight anymore,"

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Note: Do you guys still hate John?


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