The Mystery of the Rings
I was dusting my husband’s study when my gaze caught on a row of small boxes on his desk. They were from my favourite jeweller in London. Curiosity, as ever, got the better of caution.
“Just… wiping near them,” I muttered under my breath, carefully lifting the lid of the first box.
Inside lay a ring. A woman’s ring. Elegant yet understated—exactly my taste. My heart leapt with delight.
“A gift?” I whispered, smiling to myself.
But curiosity tugged harder. I opened the second box—another ring. Then the third, the fourth, the fifth—each one identical in design but different in size. I froze, feeling a storm brewing inside me.
“Different sizes? Women’s rings? Is he handing them out like sweets? One for every mistress?”
My pulse pounded in my temples as a cold weight settled in my chest. I snatched up my phone before even realising it was in my hand.
“James,” my voice trembled with fury and bitter sweetness, “have you signed up for a polygamy club? Or are you running a marriage scam now? Explain why there are five identical women’s rings—all different sizes—in your study!”
A choked laugh crackled down the line, as if James had just spluttered into his tea.
“Olivia, my love,” he began, clearly stalling, “polygamy? I can barely keep up with you! They’re not gifts. They’re… devices.”
“Devices?” I narrowed my eyes, feeling my brow arch of its own accord. “With diamonds?”
“It’s for a project,” he sighed. “The ‘Perfect Partner’ app. The rings are wearable tech—track pulse, emotions, mood. We’re testing how the AI adapts to the wearer.”
“Blimey!” I blurted. “That’s brilliant! Why wasn’t I invited to test it?”
“Because it’s alpha,” he said patiently. “The AI’s glitchy, the ethics module isn’t fine-tuned. Might say something bizarre—a compliment one minute, a hormonal analysis the next.”
“James, have you forgotten I adore experiments?” I was already imagining myself testing this marvel.
“Liv, your middle name is ‘disaster’,” he snorted. “Remember when you ‘fixed’ my laptop? Right—meeting now. Love you, bye!”
He hung up, but I was already hooked. I knew his cloud passwords better than my times tables.
***
Twenty minutes later, an icon blinked on my phone: *PerfectPartner_v0.8.7*. The ring, fitting perfectly, gleamed on my finger.
A vibration. A message:
*Hello, my one and only. I’m here to cheer you, admire you, stand by you. What would you like: a compliment, advice, or a love confession?*
I snorted with laughter. It was like the start of a romance novel!
“A compliment,” I typed, holding my breath.
*You are as radiant as St. Paul’s at sunrise. Even in that old jumper with tea stains—you’re the best thing in this world.*
I giggled, warmth flooding my chest. “Bloody hell, it works!”
All day, the app played the perfect suitor:
• Praised my new scarf over breakfast.
• Comforted me when I got stuck in traffic on Oxford Street.
• Reminded me to drink water.
• Noted how my smile “could halt Big Ben’s ticking.”
• By evening, it offered a “soothing soul massage—compliments and sweet daydreams included.”
I caught myself grinning like a schoolgirl. This wasn’t betrayal—it was comfort. Like having someone always there, saying just the right thing at the right time.
When James came home, I slipped the ring back into its box and pretended I’d spent the day cleaning. But my eyes kept darting to my phone.
He noticed.
That night, hunched over his laptop, he sighed deeply, tapped in a few lines:
*reduce_flattery = 0.6*
*enable_module(“honest_feedback”)*
***
Next morning, I slid the ring on again. My phone buzzed:
*Good morning, darling. Bags under your eyes—binge-watching again? Skip the chocolate bar and espresso today; they’ll only make it worse.*
*Oh, and those parcels at the post office? They’ve been waiting a week. If you’re feeling generous—surprise your real husband with his favourite shortbread and a pot of Earl Grey.*
*He adores you. And me? I couldn’t hold a candle to him.*
I stared, then burst out laughing.
“Oh, you absolute rogue, James!” I exhaled. “Even as code, you’re still you.”
As I reached for the biscuit tin, a thought struck: “What if I wore two rings? Would one virtual partner get jealous of the other?”
