A bone a heart the law a promise – which of these was broken? was penned in response to a writing workshop prompt.
She hated breaking promises. But there was no choice, right?
She lifted her sling-bound arm, grimacing. Explaining how that had happened was a step too far. He was such a, well, upright guy. Best word for him, upright. Nice, kind, polite, respectful to his elders. She thought of him, these days, in the same way she thought about the vicar. The one they’d had a chat with about the wedding.
Not like in the early days, when all she saw were the jet black eyes – pools of night – the strong chin, hair made to run your fingers through …
She’d been planning on telling him ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ over dinner that evening. And now she couldn’t do it. Because she’d have to explain the arm, and how could she tell him she broke it when leaving the posh dress shop where’s she’d tried on a couple of gorgeous party frocks – for tonight’s dinner, to boost her confidence – and forgotten to take one of them off when she re-dressed?
Telling the woman, thanks but it didn’t suit me, she’d left quickly but not too quickly, tripped on the step in her haste and came down with a thud and a scream, and a searing pain in her arm.
The shop woman had been lovely, called the ambulance, comforted her while waiting, and all the time she’d been sweating into the pretty frock from pain and fear of discovery, and being too hot with the damn extra layers.
So now, tonight, she had to break her promise to herself to tell him ‘It’s me, not you,’ in person. She had to do it over the phone, make sure he didn’t see her for the next few weeks.
And when her arm was out of the sling, she’d have to give him back his ring. Such a pretty ring. She eyed it, sparkling on her manicured finger. It broke her heart to have to give that ring up.
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A BONE, A HEART, THE LAW A PROMISE – WHICH OF THESE WAS BROKEN?
“Break the law, son and you are in serious trouble.”
The policeman looked sternly at Roger, virtually daring him to follow through with his promise.
The young engineering student had been gazing through the jewellery shop window at the array of engagement rings for sale.
One in particular caught his eye – a dazzling 18-carat gold ring with centre Argyle pink and white diamonds blinking under the strong display lights.
“How did you know I was about to break the law, officer,” he replied. “I might have been just looking, you know.”
“I’ve seen your type before. Too young to afford such an expensive piece of jewellery for your girl, but nevertheless determined to have it.”
The policeman was right, of course. Roger was eyeing the jewellery with a view to smashing the window and taking the ring he wanted before anyone was the wiser.
Arriving in the nick of time, the officer had cleverly thwarted his plan.
“Your girl will just have to wait a little longer until you have enough money to buy the ring for her,” the policeman added.
Roger slumped off, disappointed that his silent promise to Bridget had been put on hold.
He believed the time was right to pop the question and felt that, if he didn’t act soon, her heart might break. Worse, she might tire of his paltry excuses to not get engaged and start searching for someone else.
Of course, if she truly loved him, she would surely wait – but he couldn’t be certain. Engineering students were hardly well off. Roger had survived to date on casual jobs to meet his financial commitments while he completed his studies.
He mulled over the entire situation as he headed towards home.
A temporary solution was what he needed – something she could wear while he saved for the ring of his, and hopefully her, dreams.
He had seen others tie a piece of string around their girlfriend’s finger as a sign of their love and fidelity.
Would Bridget accept that? He had no idea.
Roger was just turning the corner into his street when the unthinkable happened.
A boy on a pushbike cannoned into him, knocking him to the ground.
His left arm was trapped underneath him and as, went to get up, a searing pain shot its entire length.
That’s all I need, he thought. To spend the next few weeks in plaster while it mends and unable to perform his casual job.
Hardly the ideal situation, given my current predicament.
She didn’t even have to choose – broke them all. Clever girl! LOL