The Cufflinks On A Dog's Collar

I was supposed to open the floor with a dance with my fiance at my twenty-fourth birthday gala. I headed toward the private lounge to find her, my heart light, my mind rehearsing the steps.

I never made it through the door.

Instead, I froze at the threshold, the sound of her laughter drifting through the crack, sharp as a razor. It was her best friend, Brooke, speaking first.

"Honestly, Patricia, I get that youre using the Sterling familys influence to climb the social ladder, but why do you have to humiliate Timothy at his own birthday party every single year? It's been five years straight."

Brookes voice took on a mock-pitiful tone. "Watching the heir to the Sterling fortune being mocked as a 'lapdog' by every trust-fund brat in the city don't you feel even a little bit sorry for him?"

My fiance, Patricia, replied with a casual, airy nonchalance that made my blood run cold.

"I mean, I feel a little bad," she said. "But what can I do? Jax is a brat. I lost a bet to him years ago. We agreed Id make Timothy look like a fool at every birthday gala for six years. Not a day less, or Jax won't let it go."

She sighed as if it were a minor inconvenience, like a parking ticket. "Besides, Timothy is the golden boy of the richest family in the state. Even if he loses a bit of face, no one is actually going to do anything to him."

She paused, her voice softening. "This is the sixth year. The debt is paid. Next year, Ill actually propose to him at the gala. Ill make it up to him then."

Then came the sound of metal clicking. Through the gap, I saw her unfastening the sapphire cufflinks from her own French cuffs. She traced the intricate, custom engravings with her thumbthe ones I had stayed up nights designing for her.

"Im going to give these to Jaxs dog, King," she said, a playful smile touching her lips. "Hes such a little gentleman. I want to see the look on Jax's face when his Golden Retriever is better dressed than the birthday boy."

Brooke gasped. "Youre giving Timothys engagement gift to a dog?"

Patricias laugh was indulgent. "Its just a little gift to keep Jax happy. If I dont knock Timothy down a peg once in a while, Jax gets so moody."

I didn't stay to hear the rest. I turned and walked away, the opulence of the hallway suddenly feeling like a gilded cage.

I remembered what my grandmother told me when I first stepped into the CEOs office. She had sat me down, her eyes sharp as flint. Timothy, shed said, a man in our position is allowed to be weak for love exactly five times in his life. Five times you can let your heart override your head. On the sixth time, you aren't being romanticyoure being a fool.

This was the sixth year. I had watched the woman I loved give my heart, my dignity, and now my hand-crafted designs to a dog.

The engagement was over. I just hadn't told her yet.

1.

Ten minutes later, the gala officially began.

I stood at the top of the grand marble staircase, my tailored cream suit fitting perfectly, though my chest felt hollow. I looked down at the sea of Manhattans elite.

Patricia was seated at the head table, looking radiant. Beside her sat Jax, dressed in a loud, crimson suit that practically screamed for attention. A large Golden Retriever was circling their feet, wagging its tail.

"King, come here," Patricia cooed, beckoning the dog.

Under the watchful eyes of the entire room, Patricia reached into her clutch and pulled out a silver chain. She threaded it through the deep blue sapphire cufflinksmy cufflinksand fastened it around the dogs collar. The stones caught the chandelier light, pulsing with a mocking blue glow.

Everyone in that room recognized those cufflinks. They were the symbol of our commitment, the prototype for our wedding bands.

"He looks great," Jax smirked, leaning into Patricias space, his shoulder brushing hers. "Look, Patricia. Doesn't he look like a real little gentleman now?"

"He really does," Patricia said, ruffling the dogs fur. Her gaze drifted up and found me at the top of the stairs, her smile carrying a hint of smug triumph.

In years past, I would have been furious. I would have caused a scene, demanding Jax show some respect. And Patricia would have publicly scolded me for being "immature" and "insecure," forcing me to apologize to her and her 'best friend' by the end of the night.

But tonight, the fire was out. There was only ash.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my lapels, and walked down the stairs. My leather shoes clicked rhythmically against the marble. The crowd parted instinctively, sensing a shift in the air they couldn't quite name.

I walked straight to Patricia.

Jaxs smirk faltered for a second, and he took a half-step behind her. Patricia immediately bristled, leaning forward as if to shield him.

"Timothy, its your birthday," she whispered sharply, a warning in her eyes. "Don't make this ugly."

I didn't even look at her. I looked at the dog.

"The cufflinks have a nice weight to them," I said, my voice steady and conversational. "They actually complement the leather of the collar quite well."

Patricia froze. Jaxs grin turned into a confused mask.

"What did you say?" Patricia asked, her voice dropping an octave.

"I said, they look good on him." I turned to a passing waiter, took a glass of vintage red wine, and raised it slightly toward her. "Since you have such... unique tastes, Patricia, consider the cufflinks a gift to the dog. From me."

Without another word, I turned my back on her and walked toward the main table.

Behind me, I heard the screech of a chair being pushed back violently.

"Timothy Sterling! Don't you walk away from me!"

I didn't stop.

I had spent every ounce of the "hesitation" my grandmother had gifted me on Patricia. For six years, I had held on. Tonight, she had literally thrown my heart to the dogs.

The six-year contract of my soul was officially cancelled.

2.

After the gala, I returned to the penthouse we shared in the city. It was technically a Sterling property, meant to be our marital home. Patricia had been living there for three years.

I began gathering my work files from the coffee table, preparing my exit.

The door burst open. Patricia walked in, smelling of expensive gin and Jaxs signature cologne. Her face was a storm of indignation.

She kicked off her heels and threw her designer bag onto the sofa.

"What the hell was that tonight?" she demanded, stepping into my light. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone."

I clicked my briefcase shut. "I didn't do anything but state the truth."

"State the truth?" she mocked. "Jax was just having fun. He thought the dog looked cute. You had to make it a thing? You had to make him feel like trash in front of the whole board?"

She pulled a slim cigarette from her pack and lit it, her hands trembling slightly.

"Do you have any idea how quiet he was on the drive home? Hes devastated. He thinks he ruined your birthday. Hes been blaming himself all night."

I looked up at her, really looked at her. "Patricia, it was my birthday."

"So?" She exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Youre a Sterling. You have everything. Jax only has me. I was just trying to make him smile for once, and youre so petty you cant even handle that?"

The door creaked open further. Jax stepped in, wearing one of my oversized spare T-shirts. His eyes were artificially red, his expression practiced in its vulnerability.

"Patricia, please, don't fight with Timothy because of me," he said, grabbing her arm. "Its my fault. I shouldn't have said the cufflinks were pretty. Ive just never seen anything so exquisite... I lost my head for a second."

Patricias expression softened instantly as she took his hand. She shot me a look of pure ice. "Do you hear him, Timothy? Even now, hes thinking about you."

I looked at their joined hands. The six years of devotion Id given her felt like a bad punchline.

"There are a dozen more pairs in the hallway cabinet," I said calmly. "Gifts I gave you over the years. Take them. Take the house, too. Consider it a parting gift for you both."

Patricia blinked, then let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "Oh, here we go. The 'I'm leaving' routine again? Let me remind you, Timothylast time you tried this, you called me three hours later crying, begging to come back."

Jax looked down, hiding a smirk of pure satisfaction. "Timothy, don't be mad. Ill leave... I don't want to cause trouble..."

He made a show of turning to leave, but as he passed the coffee table, he "accidentally" caught his knee on the sharp edge of the rosewood.

"Ah!" He let out a muffled groan and collapsed toward Patricia.

Patricia caught him immediately, turning on me with a snarl. "Why is this table pushed so far out? Did you do that on purpose? Youre obsessed with hurting him!"

That table hadn't moved since the day we bought it. I didn't bother explaining.

Patricia helped Jax onto the sofa with maternal tenderness, rolling up his pant leg to inspect a faint red mark on his knee. "I'm going to get the ointment."

As she stood up to walk past me, she slammed her shoulder into mine. Hard.

It was deliberate. I was caught off guard, and the force sent me stumbling back toward the heavy display cabinet. My temple slammed into the sharp, gilded corner of the wood.

A white-hot flash of pain erupted.

Then, something warm began to trickle down my eyebrow. My vision blurred with red. Drip. Drip. The blood hit the hardwood floor with a soft, wet sound.

Patricia stopped and glanced back. She saw the blood, but she didn't move.

"Stop acting," she said, her lip curling. "It was a nudge. You aren't bleeding that much. Go get Jax an ice packhis knee is actually bruised."

I held my hand to my forehead, the blood seeping through my fingers. Across the room, Jax was watching me. The "pain" was gone from his face, replaced by a look of pure, toxic triumph.

I used the cabinet to steady myself and stood up straight. I didn't look at either of them again. I picked up my briefcase and walked out into the cold night air.

She didn't realize it yet, but she had just severed the last thread connecting me to her.

3.

The next morning, the board room at Sterling Global was stifling.

I sat at the head of the table, a stark white bandage taped over my temple. The heavy oak doors swung open, and Patricia walked in, followed by Jax carrying a stack of folders.

She was the Managing Director of our subsidiary; Jax was her "assistant."

Patricia saw the bandage and paused for a fraction of a second. "What happened to your face?" she asked, her voice laced with annoyance rather than concern.

I flipped open the quarterly report. "Lets begin, Director Lu. Everyones time is valuable."

Patricias jaw tightened as she sat down across from me.

Halfway through the presentation, as Jax was handing Patricia a cup of coffee, his hand "slipped." The scalding liquid splashed across the original, signed financial audit sitting in front of Patricia.

"Oh my god, Patricia, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..."

He scrambled with napkins, his face a mask of frantic clumsiness. Patricia caught his hand.

"It's fine, Jax. It's just paper. Are your hands okay?"

She turned to me, her tone demanding. "Timothy, have your secretary print another copy."

I clicked my pen. The sound echoed in the silent room.

"Director Lu, that document was the final audit, signed by our partners in London. It is the only legally binding original. While we have digital backups, the process for re-authorization of an original takes weeks. It's a massive security risk."

Patricia waved a hand dismissively. "Then have the team do it! Jax was up until 3 A.M. helping me prep this data. Hes exhausted. You should be more understanding."

The other executives in the room looked at their shoes.

I looked her dead in the eye. "Director, we are in a place of business. Please act like it."

"Timothy, are you seriously targeting Jax again?" Patricia slammed the damp document on the table. "Its a piece of paper! As my fianc, cant you be a little more generous?"

Jax stood up, his face pale. "Mr. Sterling, its all my fault. Don't blame Patricia... Ill fix it. Ill do it right now."

He leaned down to pick up the scattered papers, but as he stood, he swayed, looking like he was about to faint. Patricia caught him instantly, shouting at me.

"Enough! Timothy, look at yourself. You have zero class. Jax isn't feeling well. If you scare him into a panic attack, can you even live with yourself?"

I reached for the intercom on the desk. "Security to the boardroom. Now."

Patricia stared at me, bewildered. "What are you doing?"

"Mr. Miller is grossly incompetent. He has destroyed vital company assets and created a liability. He is fired, effective immediately." I looked at the two security guards who entered the room, then turned to Patricia. "And as for you, Director Luyour inability to separate your personal life from your professional duties has compromised this meeting. You are suspended indefinitely. Go home and reflect."

Patricia let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. "Timothy, is this your new tactic? Ruining my career to make me crawl back to you? Fine. Im leaving. Lets see how the South Side project moves forward without me!"

She grabbed Jaxs hand. "Come on, Jax. Were leaving."

Jax looked back at me over his shoulder, a smirk hidden in the shadow of his collar.

At the door, Patricia stopped. She threw one last cold look at me. "When you learn how to be a real man and a real fianc, come find me and apologize. Maybe then I'll think about coming back."

The door slammed so hard the windows rattled.

My head throbbed. I fed the ruined document into the shredder and opened the next file. "Next item on the agenda."

Three days later, I stood in the VIP hallway of the City General Hospital.

My grandmothers lead surgeon looked at me with a grim expression. "Mr. Sterling, your grandmother's condition is critical. She needs a quadruple bypass immediately. However, Dr. Lawrence is currently at a restricted military medical conference upstate. All communications are jammed. Weve found that the only way to get him back in time is by private jetand the only one with an active flight path cleared for that restricted airspace right now is the one registered to Director Lu."

My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone. I dialed Patricia.

The first call went to voicemail.

The second was declined.

On the third, she finally picked up.

In the background, I could hear loud music and the cheering of a crowd.

"What?" Patricias voice was sharp with irritation.

"Patricia, listen to me. Nana had a heart attack. Shes in the ER. I need your jet to pick up Dr. Lawrence from the upstate base. Its the only one cleared for the flight path. Please. Im begging you. Arrange it now."

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

Then, I heard Jaxs voice in the background. "Patricia, who is it? Is it important? It's okay... we can skip the meteor shower if you have to go."

Patricias voice softened as she spoke to him. "Stay put, honey. Its fine."

Then she spoke back into the phone. "Timothy, stop it. This is pathetic."

"I'm not playing! Shes in surgery!" I screamed into the receiver.

"Surgery?" she scoffed. "Last month you said her blood pressure was high. Last week you said you cut your hand. Timothy, youve used the 'emergency' card three times too many. Im tired of the drama. Jax has never seen a meteor shower from a private jet, and I promised him tonight would be special. Im not breaking my word to him just because youre lonely."

4.

"Patricia, this is a human life!" I roared into the phone.

"Enough," she snapped. "If you want me to come home, just say it. Don't curse your own grandmothers health to get attention. Im busy. I don't have time for your movies."

Click.

The line went dead.

I leaned against the cold hospital wall, the phone slipping from my hand. A team of nurses rushed past me with a crash cart. The red "In Surgery" light burned like a mocking eye.

I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, burying my face in my knees.

Five hours later, the news came. Dr. Lawrence hadn't made it back in time. The local team had done their best, but they could only stabilize her on life support. She needed to be transferred to a specialist facility in Switzerland immediately.

And while my grandmother clung to life by a thread, Patricias jet was thousands of feet in the air, chasing stars.

I scrolled through my feed. Jax had posted a photo.

He was holding a glass of vintage Cristal, the star-strewn sky visible through the cabin window. The caption read: Thank you, P, for making my dreams come true. Best night of my life.

Patricia had liked the post. Her comment sat right at the top: Anything for you. Youre worth it all.

A cold, dead weight settled in my chest. I wiped the tears from my face and stood up.

I called the head of Sterlings legal department.

"Draft the papers. I want the engagement officially dissolved. Effective immediately, revoke all of Patricia Lus access to Sterling assets. Freeze the corporate accounts she uses. Start the clawback process for every cent of company money shes spent on personal 'gifts' for Miller. And get the international medical transport ready. Were taking my grandmother to Switzerland."

I walked out of the hospital into the gray dawn.

A black Bentley was idling by the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Patricias smug, beautiful face. Jax was in the passenger seat, his arm draped lazily over her headrest.

"Look at you," Patricia said, her eyes scanning my disheveled state. "Still playing the part, standing outside the hospital. Get in the car, Timothy. Stop embarrassing yourself. Since you want my attention so badly, Ill give you a ride."

I walked over to the car, my face a mask of stone.

Jax grinned at me, his eyes gleaming with malice. "The meteor shower was incredible, Timothy. Too bad you missed it. Patricia said maybe shell take you next time."

Patricia hit the central locks, inviting me in.

I reached into my bag, pulled out a thick manila envelope, and dropped it through the open window into her lap.

"No thanks," I said.

Patricia frowned, picking up the envelope. "Whats this? A formal apology? A poem?"

She pulled out the papers. In the dim glow of the streetlights, she read the header of the first page.

NOTICE OF TERMINATION OF ENGAGEMENT.

Beneath it was the second document: NOTICE OF EXECUTIVE DISMISSAL AND ASSET FREEZURE.

Patricias hand began to shake. The blood drained from her face.

"Timothy..." her voice wavered. "Are you serious?"