**The Mystery of the Rings**
I was dusting my husband’s office when my gaze snagged on a handful of small boxes on his desk. They were from my favourite jeweller in Manchester. Curiosity, as always, got the better of caution.
“Just… dusting around them,” I muttered under my breath, carefully lifting the lid of the first box.
Inside lay a ring. A woman’s ring. Elegant but understated—my exact taste. My heart leapt with delight.
“A gift?” I whispered, grinning.
But curiosity tugged me further. I opened the second box—another ring. Then the third, fourth, fifth—each held the same. Rings identical in design but different in size. I froze, feeling the storm brew inside me.
“Different sizes? Women’s? Is he handing them out like sweets? A souvenir for every lady?”
Blood pounded in my temples as a cold weight settled in my chest. I grabbed my phone, barely registering how it ended up in my hand.
“Daniel,” my voice shook with rage and bitter amusement, “have you joined a polygamy club? Or are you moonlighting as a con artist? Explain why you’ve got five identical women’s rings in your office—each a different size!”
A stifled chuckle crackled down the line, as if he’d choked on his tea.
“Olivia, love,” he began, clearly stalling, “I can barely keep up with you, let alone multiple wives! They’re not gifts. They’re… devices.”
“Devices?” I narrowed my eyes, my brow inching upward. “With diamonds?”
“They’re for the project,” he sighed. “The *Perfect Partner* app. Wearable tech. Tracks pulse, emotions, mood. We’re testing how a virtual companion adapts to its wearer.”
“Blimey!” I blurted. “That’s brilliant! Why wasn’t I invited to test it?”
“It’s still in alpha,” he said patiently. “The AI glitches—ethics module’s not finalised. Might say something odd: a compliment one minute, a hormone analysis the next.”
“Dan, have you forgotten I *live* for experiments?” I was already imagining the thrill of trying this miracle gadget.
“Liv, your middle name is *chaos*,” he snorted. “Remember when you ‘fixed’ my laptop? Look, I’ve got a meeting. Love you!”
He hung up, but I was already hooked. I knew his cloud passwords better than my times tables.
***
Twenty minutes later, *PerfectPartner_v0.8.7* glowed on my phone. The ring, a perfect fit, already sparkled on my finger.
My phone buzzed. A message:
*Hello, my one and only. I’m here to support, admire, and stand by you. What would you like: a compliment, advice, or a love confession?*
I burst out laughing. It was like the start of a romance novel!
“Compliment,” I typed, holding my breath.
*You’re as radiant as a sunrise over the Peak District. Even in that old jumper with a tea stain—you’re the best thing in this world.*
I giggled, warmth blooming in my chest. *Bloody hell, it works!*
All day, the app played the perfect suitor:
– Praised my new scarf at breakfast.
– Gently soothed me stuck in traffic on Oxford Street.
– Reminded me to drink water.
– Noted my smile ‘could silence a room.’
– By evening, it offered a ‘soul massage—compliments and light fantasies included.’
Catching myself grinning like a schoolgirl, I realised: this wasn’t betrayal. It was… support. Like someone always there, saying the right thing at the right time.
When Daniel came home, I hid the ring and pretended I’d spent the day cleaning. But my eyes kept flicking to my phone.
He noticed.
That night, hunched over his laptop, he sighed heavily and typed a few lines.
***
Next morning, I slipped the ring back on. My phone buzzed:
*Good morning, darling. Bags under your eyes—late-night binge-watching again? Skip the chocolate bar and espresso today—be kind to yourself.*
*P.S. Your parcels have been at the post office for a week. And if you’re feeling generous… surprise your real husband with his favourite shortbread and Earl Grey.*
*He adores you. And I, frankly, don’t hold a candle to him.*
I stared—then burst out laughing.
“Daniel Walker, you absolute *madman*,” I exhaled. “Even digitally, you’re still you: caring, smug, manipulative… and utterly loved.”
I headed to the kitchen to bake shortbread, a thought tickling my mind: *What if I wore two rings? Would one virtual partner get jealous of the other?*