“Twenty-six years ago,” he said without looking up, “your dad gave a speech at our wedding. Do you remember what he said?”
I sat down next to him.
“He said a lot of things. He talked for twenty minutes. My mom kept pinching him.”
Mark smiled.
“He said that a ring is a circle. It doesn’t have a beginning and it doesn’t have an end.” He turned the old ring over in his fingers. “He said that’s what love is supposed to be. You can’t find where it starts. And it doesn’t stop.”
“I’d forgotten that,” I said.
“I hadn’t,” Mark said. “Isn’t that funny? I can’t remember what I had for lunch. But I remember that.”
He closed the box very gently and set it on the nightstand.
“I’m going to give this one to Sophie,” he said. “Someday. For whoever she marries. The old one. With the crack in it that got fixed.”
