{"id":22424,"date":"2026-10-15T15:21:27","date_gmt":"2026-10-15T15:21:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/?p=22424"},"modified":"2026-10-15T15:21:27","modified_gmt":"2026-10-15T15:21:27","slug":"my-husband-came-home-from-his-annual-fishing-trip-with-a-wedding-ring-mark-on-his-finger-the-problem-was-he-hadnt-worn-his-ring-in-12-years","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/?p=22424","title":{"rendered":"My Husband Came Home From His Annual Fishing Trip With a Wedding Ring Mark on His Finger \u2014 The Problem Was, He Hadn\u2019t Worn His Ring in 12 Years"},"content":{"rendered":"
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For nearly two decades of marriage, I thought I knew Wade better than anyone.<\/p>\n

I knew he hated tomatoes unless they were cooked into sauce. I knew he checked the front door twice before bed and always fell asleep during movies he had insisted on choosing. I knew that every summer, he went away for three days with the same group of friends to fish at a lake several hours from our home.<\/p>\n

The trip had become so normal that I barely thought about it anymore.<\/p>\n

Three days at the lake. A cheap motel. Bad cell service. Too much beer and too few fish.<\/p>\n

Then he would come home sunburned, tired, and smelling like the inside of a tackle box.<\/p>\n

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So when Wade returned that Sunday evening, I expected the usual.<\/p>\n

Instead, he gave me a quick hug, carried his duffel bag upstairs, and spent most of dinner staring at his plate.<\/p>\n

\u201cEverything okay?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust tired.\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled, but it didn\u2019t reach his eyes.<\/p>\n

I might have forgotten about it if he hadn\u2019t reached for his water a few minutes later.<\/p>\n

That was when I saw his hand.<\/p>\n

There was a pale band around his left ring finger.<\/p>\n

Not a scratch.<\/p>\n

Not dirt.<\/p>\n

A clear wedding ring mark.<\/p>\n

I stared at it long enough for Wade to notice.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

I pointed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes dropped to his hand.<\/p>\n

For one second, he froze.<\/p>\n

Then he laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat?\u201d<\/p>\n

He rubbed the finger against his jeans.<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably from the fishing rod.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cA fishing rod gave you a ring mark?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know how your hands swell when you\u2019re holding something all day.\u201d<\/p>\n

The answer made no sense, but I didn\u2019t argue.<\/p>\n

Wade hadn\u2019t worn his wedding ring in twelve years.<\/p>\n

He had broken that finger at work when a heavy toolbox slammed down on his hand. Even after it healed, the knuckle stayed slightly thicker, and his ring became uncomfortable.<\/p>\n

We talked about resizing it, but never got around to it.<\/p>\n

Eventually, I put the ring in a small wooden box in our bedroom drawer.<\/p>\n

It had been there ever since.<\/p>\n

The next morning, after Wade left for work, I opened the drawer.<\/p>\n

The ring was still there.<\/p>\n

For some reason, that made me feel worse.<\/p>\n

That evening, I went through the pictures his friends had posted online from the trip.<\/p>\n

There were the usual photos of boats, coolers, fish lined up on a dock, and five grown men looking far too proud of themselves.<\/p>\n

Wade appeared in only two pictures.<\/p>\n

In both, his left hand was hidden.<\/p>\n

Then I noticed a photo taken Saturday morning outside a marina restaurant.<\/p>\n

Everyone else was there.<\/p>\n

Wade wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

I stared at the screen for several minutes before calling the restaurant.<\/p>\n

A woman answered.<\/p>\n

I told her my husband had eaten there Saturday and might have left something behind.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s his name?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWade Carter.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a pause.<\/p>\n

Not a normal pause while someone checked a list.<\/p>\n

A long, uncomfortable one.<\/p>\n

Then her voice changed.<\/p>\n

\u201cMay I ask who\u2019s calling?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m his wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re his wife?\u201d<\/p>\n

My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n

Another pause.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I don\u2019t think I can help you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She ended the call.<\/p>\n

That night, Wade acted almost aggressively normal.<\/p>\n

He asked about my day. Complained about the neighbor\u2019s dog. Watched half a baseball game and kissed my forehead before bed.<\/p>\n

I lay beside him listening to his breathing until I knew he was asleep.<\/p>\n

Then I went downstairs with his duffel bag.<\/p>\n

Inside one of the side pockets, I found a motel key card.<\/p>\n

Under it was a receipt.<\/p>\n

Not from a bait shop.<\/p>\n

Not from a gas station.<\/p>\n

A jewelry store almost forty miles from the lake.<\/p>\n

The purchase description had been cut off, but the amount was several hundred dollars.<\/p>\n

I put everything back exactly where I had found it.<\/p>\n

The next morning, Wade left for work at seven.<\/p>\n

I waited until his car disappeared around the corner.<\/p>\n

Then I opened his laptop.<\/p>\n

His password had changed.<\/p>\n

My first guess failed.<\/p>\n

Then our anniversary.<\/p>\n

Wrong.<\/p>\n

His birthday.<\/p>\n

Wrong again.<\/p>\n

I almost gave up before thinking about the lake.<\/p>\n

I typed its name.<\/p>\n

The screen unlocked.<\/p>\n

There was a folder on his desktop I had never seen before.<\/p>\n

Instead of a name, it had a small ring icon.<\/p>\n

My hands were already shaking when I clicked it.<\/p>\n

The first photograph took a few seconds to make sense.<\/p>\n

Wade was standing inside the marina restaurant.<\/p>\n

He was wearing the blue shirt I had ironed for him before he left.<\/p>\n

Beside him stood a woman in a simple white dress.<\/p>\n

They were holding hands.<\/p>\n

I clicked the next photo.<\/p>\n

Wade was sliding a ring onto her finger.<\/p>\n

The next showed them kissing while people around them applauded.<\/p>\n

I stopped breathing.<\/p>\n

There were dozens of pictures.<\/p>\n

Flowers.<\/p>\n

Champagne.<\/p>\n

A small cake.<\/p>\n

A handwritten sign with two names.<\/p>\n

Wade & Corinne.<\/p>\n

A Celebration of Love.<\/p>\n

Saturday, 4:00 p.m.<\/p>\n

I found a video.<\/p>\n

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My finger hovered over it before I finally pressed play.<\/p>\n

Wade appeared on the screen holding both of Corinne\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n

His voice trembled with emotion.<\/p>\n

\u201cI promise I won\u2019t waste the life we have left together.\u201d<\/p>\n

Corinne started crying.<\/p>\n

Wade smiled at her in a way I hadn\u2019t seen him smile at me in years.<\/p>\n

Someone behind the camera said, \u201cYou may kiss your bride.\u201d<\/p>\n

And my husband did.<\/p>\n

I sat there staring at the laptop.<\/p>\n

Nineteen years.<\/p>\n

That was how long Wade and I had been married.<\/p>\n

Nineteen years of mortgage payments, family funerals, Christmas mornings, arguments about dishes, hospital visits, birthday dinners, and ordinary Tuesdays.<\/p>\n

And while I was home that Saturday washing the clothes he had left on the bathroom floor, he had been standing in a restaurant promising another woman forever.<\/p>\n

I copied everything onto a drive.<\/p>\n

Then I searched Corinne\u2019s full name.<\/p>\n

It led me to a gift shop near the lake.<\/p>\n

There was a public phone number.<\/p>\n

I called.<\/p>\n

A woman answered.<\/p>\n

\u201cLake House Gifts, this is Corinne.\u201d<\/p>\n

My mouth went dry.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs this Corinne Hale?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Darcy Carter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m Wade\u2019s wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nothing.<\/p>\n

Then she gave a nervous laugh.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. Who?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWade Carter. I\u2019ve been married to him for nineteen years.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her voice hardened instantly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat isn\u2019t funny.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not joking.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWade\u2019s wife is dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

For several seconds, I couldn\u2019t speak.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHis wife died twelve years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat down on the kitchen floor.<\/p>\n

Corinne kept talking, but the words blurred together.<\/p>\n

Finally, I managed to say, \u201cI am his wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is disgusting.\u201d<\/p>\n

She hung up.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t blame her.<\/p>\n

If a stranger had called me and told me my new husband\u2019s dead wife was alive, I probably would have done the same thing.<\/p>\n

I emailed the gift shop a photograph taken at Wade\u2019s birthday dinner four months earlier.<\/p>\n

My arm was around him.<\/p>\n

His was around me.<\/p>\n

Underneath it, I wrote:<\/p>\n

I\u2019m alive. We are still married. He slept beside me last night.<\/p>\n

Almost an hour later, my phone rang.<\/p>\n

Corinne.<\/p>\n

This time, she sounded like she had been crying.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you the woman Wade told me died twelve years ago?\u201d<\/p>\n

I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cApparently.\u201d<\/p>\n

What she told me next hurt in a completely different way.<\/p>\n

She had met Wade nearly two years earlier.<\/p>\n

He came into her shop during one of his fishing trips, bought a souvenir, and returned the next afternoon because, according to him, he wanted to talk to her again.<\/p>\n

He told her he was a widower.<\/p>\n

His wife, Darcy, had died twelve years earlier.<\/p>\n

He told Corinne he had loved me deeply.<\/p>\n

He said losing me had nearly destroyed him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me he stopped wearing his wedding ring because it hurt too much,\u201d Corinne whispered.<\/p>\n

I felt cold.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did he say happened to his finger?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he injured it around the same time. He said the swelling gave him an excuse to finally take the ring off.\u201d<\/p>\n

I remembered that day perfectly.<\/p>\n

Wade coming home from work with his hand wrapped in a dirty towel.<\/p>\n

Me driving him to urgent care.<\/p>\n

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Enpal<\/a><\/div>\n
Tsch\u00fcss \u00d6l und Gas: So viel kostet eine W\u00e4rmepumpe inkl. Einbau<\/a><\/div>\n
Mehr erfahren<\/a><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Me cutting his dinner because his hand hurt too much to hold the knife.<\/p>\n

Me putting our wedding ring safely in a drawer when his swollen knuckle made it impossible to wear.<\/p>\n

He had taken one of our real memories and rewritten it as part of the story of my death.<\/p>\n

Corinne and I met the following afternoon.<\/p>\n

She looked nothing like the woman I had imagined during the sleepless night before.<\/p>\n

There was no smug smile. No confidence. No woman who looked proud to have stolen someone else\u2019s husband.<\/p>\n

She walked into the coffee shop with swollen eyes and Wade\u2019s ring on her finger.<\/p>\n

For one terrible second, I hated her.<\/p>\n

Then she placed her phone on the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

I believed her.<\/p>\n

She showed me their messages.<\/p>\n

Hundreds of them.<\/p>\n

Wade telling her she was beautiful.<\/p>\n

Wade saying she had taught him it was possible to love again.<\/p>\n

Pictures from birthdays and weekends away.<\/p>\n

In one photograph, he was wearing the gray sweater I had bought him for Christmas.<\/p>\n

I almost laughed.<\/p>\n

It was either laugh or cry.<\/p>\n

Then Corinne showed me something that finally explained the mark on Wade\u2019s finger.<\/p>\n

Photos from previous weekends together.<\/p>\n

In nearly every one, Wade wore a silver wedding band.<\/p>\n

He hadn\u2019t worn it for three days.<\/p>\n

He had been wearing it whenever he visited her.<\/p>\n

The pale band on his finger was a tan line.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow often did he come here?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

Corinne looked ashamed even though she had nothing to be ashamed of.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhenever he could.\u201d<\/p>\n

We compared dates.<\/p>\n

The conference Wade attended last fall had been a weekend at a cabin with Corinne.<\/p>\n

The night his car supposedly broke down, he was eating dinner at her house.<\/p>\n

Last Thanksgiving, when he said his friend Miles needed help with a family problem, he drove to see Corinne because she was spending the holiday alone.<\/p>\n

Every lie had been small enough for me to accept.<\/p>\n

Together, they covered almost two years.<\/p>\n

Then Corinne showed me one message that made my stomach turn.<\/p>\n

Sometimes I think I survived losing Darcy because I was meant to find you.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe talked about me?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cA lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

Corinne wiped her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me you were kind. He said you would have wanted him to be happy.\u201d<\/p>\n

I had been turned into the perfect dead wife.<\/p>\n

A woman who could never interrupt, never ask questions, never discover another woman\u2019s messages.<\/p>\n

That evening, I called Miles, Wade\u2019s oldest fishing friend.<\/p>\n

When I asked whether Wade had actually been fishing Saturday afternoon, there was a pause.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot exactly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWas he with Corinne?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDarcy, I don\u2019t want to get involved.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told her I\u2019m dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

By the time I finished explaining, Miles was swearing.<\/p>\n

Then he told me Wade had said we were separated.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told us you two had been living apart almost a year.\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost dropped the phone.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe slept beside me Sunday night.\u201d<\/p>\n

Miles went quiet.<\/p>\n

None of them had attended the ceremony. Wade had told his friends he was going to meet Corinne for a few hours while they fished.<\/p>\n

They believed our marriage was already ending.<\/p>\n

Everyone had been given a different version of the same lie.<\/p>\n

The next evening, I covered our dining table with photographs.<\/p>\n

The ceremony.<\/p>\n

The messages.<\/p>\n

The jewelry receipt.<\/p>\n

Pictures of Wade wearing his silver ring beside Corinne.<\/p>\n

When he walked through the door, he stopped.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s all this?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n

His face lost its color.<\/p>\n

\u201cDarcy\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow was the cake?\u201d<\/p>\n

He slowly put down his keys.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t a real wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s your explanation?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe didn\u2019t sign papers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid Corinne know that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe knew there wasn\u2019t paperwork.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid she know your wife was alive?\u201d<\/p>\n

He said nothing.<\/p>\n

I asked again.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid she know I was alive?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThings got complicated.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at the man I had spent almost half my life with.<\/p>\n

\u201cComplicated is forgetting to pay a bill. Complicated is arguing about where to spend Christmas. You told another woman your wife was dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sat down.<\/p>\n

\u201cOur marriage hasn\u2019t been good for a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you should have told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI tried.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. You complained that life was boring. You never told me you wanted to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n

He covered his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know how to end things.\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich marriage?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked up.<\/p>\n

I pointed at one of the photographs.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou used my name in your love story with her. You told her you survived losing me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDarcy, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI drove you to the hospital when you broke your finger.\u201d<\/p>\n

My voice cracked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI helped you dress. I washed your hair when you couldn\u2019t use that hand. And you turned that memory into a story about me dying.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was when Wade started crying.<\/p>\n

For years, seeing him cry would have made me move closer.<\/p>\n

That night, I didn\u2019t touch him.<\/p>\n

\u201cPack a bag.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere am I supposed to go?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then I looked at the photo of Corinne in her white dress.<\/p>\n

\u201cTry your new wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

He flinched.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve been married nineteen years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you had nineteen years to learn how to tell me the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wade moved out that week.<\/p>\n

I filed for divorce soon after.<\/p>\n

For the first few weeks, he called constantly. He apologized, said he was lonely, offered counseling, and told me he had never stopped loving me.<\/p>\n

Then something strange happened.<\/p>\n

When begging me didn\u2019t work, he began talking about Corinne again.<\/p>\n

Maybe, he said, our divorce was meant to happen because what he had with her was real.<\/p>\n

That was when I understood he still expected a happy ending.<\/p>\n

He thought once our marriage was legally over, he could return to Corinne and finish the story he had invented.<\/p>\n

Our divorce took months.<\/p>\n

We sold the house.<\/p>\n

I moved into a smaller place with a bright kitchen and a little patio.<\/p>\n

Some days I missed the man I thought Wade had been.<\/p>\n

Other days, I woke up relieved that I no longer had to wonder which version of his life I was living in.<\/p>\n

Three weeks after our divorce became final, Corinne called me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWade came to see me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat down.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did he want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he\u2019s legally free now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Of course he did.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe brought the ring back,\u201d she continued. \u201cHe asked me to marry him properly this time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told him no.\u201d<\/p>\n

She was quiet for a moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe wanted me to remember how happy we were. But all I could remember were the lies.\u201d<\/p>\n

The weekends Wade had supposedly spent grieving his late wife.<\/p>\n

The holidays he claimed were too painful because they reminded him of me.<\/p>\n

The nights he disappeared because he said old memories had overwhelmed him.<\/p>\n

Every sad widower story ended with him driving home to me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said his feelings for me were real,\u201d Corinne said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told him mine were too.\u201d<\/p>\n

She paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I fell in love with a man who didn\u2019t exist.\u201d<\/p>\n

She returned the ring.<\/p>\n

A month later, Miles called.<\/p>\n

Wade had tried to organize another fishing trip.<\/p>\n

Nobody wanted to go.<\/p>\n

The men had finally compared everything Wade had told them. Some thought we were separated. One thought we had already filed for divorce. Another had been told I simply hated fishing and didn\u2019t care what Wade did on those weekends.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe made fools of all of us,\u201d Miles said.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t feel happy hearing that.<\/p>\n

By then, I didn\u2019t want revenge.<\/p>\n

I just wanted distance.<\/p>\n

A few weeks later, I unpacked one of the last boxes from our old house.<\/p>\n

At the bottom was the small wooden jewelry box from our bedroom.<\/p>\n

Inside was Wade\u2019s original wedding ring.<\/p>\n

The one I had kept safe for twelve years.<\/p>\n

I held it in my palm for a long time.<\/p>\n

For years, I had thought that ring meant something even though he no longer wore it.<\/p>\n

Then I thought about the silver band Wade had worn with Corinne.<\/p>\n

He had worn one ring while lying to her.<\/p>\n

He had left another ring in a drawer while lying to me.<\/p>\n

Neither one had made him faithful.<\/p>\n

I put the ring back and closed the box.<\/p>\n

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed.<\/p>\n

It was Corinne.<\/p>\n

She had signed up for a painting class and wanted to know if I would join her.<\/p>\n

Six months earlier, I probably would have hated the idea of sitting beside the woman my husband had exchanged vows with.<\/p>\n

Now I smiled.<\/p>\n

Sure, I wrote back.<\/p>\n

For a long time, I wondered what Corinne had that I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

Eventually, I understood that was the wrong question.<\/p>\n

She wasn\u2019t better than me.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t better than her.<\/p>\n

We were simply two women who had trusted the same man while being told two completely different stories.<\/p>\n

For almost two years, Wade had arranged his life so he would never have to choose between us.<\/p>\n

In the end, neither of us chose him.<\/p>\n

And for the first time in nineteen years, I no longer had to look at my husband\u2019s hand to wonder which life he had been living.<\/p>\n

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For nearly two decades of marriage, I thought I knew Wade better than anyone. I knew he hated tomatoes unless they were cooked into sauce. […]<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":22426,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-22424","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22424","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=22424"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22424\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22427,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22424\/revisions\/22427"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/22426"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=22424"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=22424"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepatswalk.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=22424"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}