Jane's start down Davis was slow at first.  She ignored the passing kids who looked up wonderingly at the charmless smirk on her face.  She didn't care that she frightened one or two who caught the vicious gleam in her eye or noticed that the clip of her walk almost seemed more like a stomp.  

    Her mind was made up - and she gripped her hand so hard that the ring mounting bit into her palm like a jagged tooth. She ignored the voice in her head:  He's going to come out of the bathroom and find it and me gone... she could outrun him anyway - let him call the cops...asshole - by the time he found her it would be too late anyway.

    She increased her pace as she fell into the shadowy trees surrounding Hanover Park.  From here it would take a little less than fifteen minutes to walk the length of Davis street to reach the bridge over Madison River.  She felt a little bit more calm than she had earlier.  Hell, with the bright light of the mid-morning making specked, disco-ball spots in the shadows, she should have felt great, it was a spectacular morning and she was going to loft this fucker right into the river.  She felt like dancing.  

    She held it up before her... the ring was rather pretty, Mark had good taste, she had to give him credit.  It was a very pretty half-carat diamond engagement ring...  she had to admit, she could probably sell it, but this would be far more satisfying. The thought of seeing this thing in mid-air was too much temptation and she clenched it again in her fist - maybe she could somehow bend it into some distorted oval before it went over. She gripped harder but failed to bend it...  she ran.

    Even though she was in good shape, by the time she reached the stone bridge rail she was sweating and breathing heavy.  Her skin was slick and the loose white tank-top she wore stuck to her skin- she realized at this point that she should have worn a bra- but this kind of spontaneity would have died in the time it would have taken to dress properly.  Anyway, Jane wasn't the type of person who cared about the way she looked to anyone other than herself-  and right now anyone else who gave a shit about her sweaty pits- or the fact that her boobs were almost falling out - could fuck off.

She looked out, winded, over the muddy brown water. This is how it is, huh? She thought mockingly, This is where it all ends? She knew earlier that morning there wasn't anything that she could do and it was infuriating.  He could have at least had the decency to tell her before he fucked her...  she might have considered... no, she wouldn't have... fuck him!

    "That's just the way it is, Jane." He'd said putting the ring back in the box. "I'm sorry. You'll just have to deal with it, I love her.  That's why I wanted you to see this, I wanted you to be happy for me." And then he had the nerve to ask her if he could grab a quick shower before he left... "We're still friends, right?"

    "Sure," she'd replied...  of course they were. She would have to deal with it.

    She could deal with all of that... but he would have deal with this.

    She thrust her arm out over the water and opened her hand, flicking her fingers a little to shake it loose from the sweat in her palm and the creases it formed from the force of her clenched fist.  She watched the ring fall silently into the water from above, feeling some deep satisfaction in the pathetic ripples that bloomed out from the tiny splash. She watched only as long as it took for the rush of the river to wipe away the growing circles with its force; then walked away. 

    On the leisurely stroll back she thought about how Mark would explain this to his fiancée... she figured he would rather save up another fifteen hundred dollars for whatever her name was, than try to explain exactly when and how this had happened.  It didn't matter anyway, Jane had claimed that ring the moment she'd seen it - regardless that it was intended for someone else- she knew that no other woman would have it.

    The ring was hers; but in Jane's case, the engagement was off.