The Ring That Never Fitted

I stood on the scale, the numbers flickering before finally settling. 42 kilograms. Half a kilogram lighter than last week. I was satisfied. Because Simon Morton said that when I was slim enough to wear that ring, he would marry me. It was a jade marriage ring set in gold, passed down through several generations of the Morton family. He said that only the most dignified and virtuous woman is worthy of it. When I first saw it seven years ago, it didn't fit. He said, it's alright, take your time. And that "taking your time" stretched on for seven years. I dropped from 55 kilograms to 42 kilograms. The ring's size seemed to shrink year after year. Each time before trying it on, Simon would gently say, "Lucy, try a little harder." "It will fit perfectly soon." Today marks my hundredth attempt to wear it. Only three days remain until the deadline he promised. I took a shower, dried my fingers, and walked to the dressing table where the ring box lay. I took a deep breath, about to open it. Simon's voice came from outside; he was on the phone. The study door wasn't properly closed. I walked over, intending to remind him to lower his voice, but I heard him say, "I know we can't keep the resizing of the ring a secret." "But Gia is unstable now; she mustn't be upset. She keeps imagining herself as my wife." "If she sees Lucy wearing the ring, her condition will worsen." I froze at the door. Then I heard him say, "I'll reassure Lucy. She's sensible and understanding." "Besides, she loves me so much, she won't truly mind. Once Gia's condition stabilizes, I'll make it up to her." I don't know what was said on the other end of the phone. He laughed, "Dad, don't worry. Lucy is easy to manage—just buy her a few bags and say some kind words. Haven't we managed all these years like this?" It felt as if my blood froze instantly. I leaned against the wall to keep from falling. It turned out the ring had been specially resized smaller for me. Made a little smaller every year, so I could never wear it. Because Gia has delusional disorder, I will have to wait forever. Seven years—an entire seven years. For this ring, I purged, starved, and exercised relentlessly. I developed stomach problems, my menstrual cycle became irregular, and my hair was falling out in clumps. He only said, "Lucy, it pains me to see you like this, but for our future, you have to endure it a little longer." I endured, until my body wasted away, until I forgot what I once looked like. It turned out that all of this was nothing but a carefully planned deception. I slowly walked back to the bedroom, picked up my phone, and dialed the number I hadn't called of my own accord in seven years. "Dad." My voice was calm. "I want to go home, starting today." My father was stunned on the other end, then said, "Alright, I'll send someone to pick you up." "No," I said, looking at myself in the mirror. "I'll go back on my own, but I need you to arrange a car for me, as soon as possible." After hanging up, I opened the suitcase at the very back of the closet. I didn't take a single thing Simon had bought me—no clothes, no bags, no jewelry. I only packed a few old clothes I had originally brought with me, along with a family portrait. In the photo, I'm smiling happily. That was Lucy Chester at twenty-three, the one who had yet to meet Simon Morton. I zipped up the suitcase, took one last look at this "home" where I had lived for seven years, then turned and walked out without looking back.