He slides the ring on my finger and we both stare at it for a moment, the sun dancing across the surface making it sparkle.

“This was my mother’s. When I told her that I was going to marry you, she insisted you have it.”

“That’s why she said that to me.”

“Said what?”

“She just told me how happy she was that you were happy and that you loved me. She got kind of teary-eyed and I just wondered where it came from. Oh,” I say, wiping a stray tear out of ...