Love Measured in Ring Size
Language: en
In my seventh year with Tristan, I still hadn't married into the Foster family. He said I had to be able to wear the ancestral ring to become Mrs. Foster. Over those seven years, I'd gone from having a perfect figure to becoming a walking skeleton. Before each ring fitting, I'd only dare sustain myself on water for days. But ninety-nine fittings, ninety-nine failures. The night before the hundredth attempt, Tristan gently circled my ring finger and sighed softly: "When will I finally be able to marry you?" My eyes welled up with tears, and I secretly scheduled a bone reduction…