Uncharted Variables

Chapter 30 : When Variables Align

"Metal holds no life, yet it carries everything I never said."

The suitcase is still on the table.
I know what's inside. The ring. The note. Three words in Benjamin Swift's hand:

M A R R Y   M Y   D A U G H T E R

I don't open it anymore. I don't need to. Memory is enough.

The ring doesn't surprise me. Benjamin doesn't surprise me.
What surprises me is that I still keep looking at it.

For months I've lived here in the quiet—fields, animals, the smell of soil after rain. It has been simple. Predictable. No noise, no chaos, no boardrooms, no expectations. That's why I chose this place. Silence does not ask questions. Silence does not demand.

But the ring is not silent. It waits.

I bought it once because I thought I was capable of offering someone permanence. I left it behind when I realized I wasn't. Now it sits here again, as if mocking that decision.

Coleen saw me staring at it this morning. She sat across from me, her eyes searching for something in mine.

"You're thinking about her again," she said.

She wasn't wrong. I didn't deny it. "I don't think I ever stopped."

Her mouth tightened. "Then why are you still here? Don't you think she's waiting too?"

For once, Coleen hesitated. Then she spoke carefully. "Do you remember what I told you years ago? That you were incapable of love? That you didn't deserve it?"

The words landed, sharp but familiar. I remembered. I had believed them.

Her voice softened. "I was wrong. You've always loved. You just don't know how to show it. You love me. You loved Mom. And you love Kia. That's not incapacity, Quinn. That's proof. You're not undeserving—you're just afraid."

I listened. I didn't react. But her words stayed.

That night, I carried the suitcase back into my room. I opened it again, though I didn't need to. The ring lay there. Simple. Constant.

I picked it up, rolling it between my fingers. Cold metal. Clear weight.

I don't speak often, but the words slipped out before I could stop them.

"I still want to give this to you, Kia."

The sound of my own voice startled me. But the ring remained the same.

Detached observation: it's only metal and stone.
Detached truth: I've never stopped wanting her.

And that realization—calm, undeniable—was enough.

---

"What began as a crush returns as a vow—time folding into forever"

-Kia's POV-

I had been looking for it for a week.

The velvet box. Quinn's ring.

Every day since I noticed it missing, I tore through my apartment, my office, my bag, even the car. Every drawer, every shelf, every nook and cranny became suspect. Nothing. Every morning I woke with that same hollow dread, imagining it lost forever, imagining her—and us—slipping further away because I couldn't even keep this small piece of her.

I had retraced my steps a hundred times. I had cursed myself, begged myself, nearly cried myself to exhaustion over a little box of velvet and metal. And yet, still nothing.