He took my hands again.
“Lee, the doctors tell me there’s going to come a day when I don’t remember a lot of things. They say I might forget this lake. This dock. They say I might forget Sophie’s name, and my own address, and how to tie my shoes.” His voice broke. “They say I might forget your name.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“So I’m not going to make you promises about remembering,” he said. “Because I can’t keep them. And I’ve lied to you enough this year.”
A tiny laugh went through the chairs. Mine too, through the tears.
“Here’s what I can promise you,” Mark said.
He reached into his other pocket and took out a little velvet box. He opened it.
Inside were two rings. One was small and delicate, gold, with a thin line of silver running around the middle. The other was wide and gold, with the same silver line and a tiny hinge on one side.
