I was utterly devastated.
Even so, I never removed that inexpensive little ring.
My parents eventually grew frustrated with me, too. They kept insisting that I needed to let Connor go and move forward with my life. They reminded me that I was still young, that I could find another man, and that I could have a happy marriage.
But I didn't want another man.
Fifty-five years passed.
I still kept that ring in a little box of its own.
Yes, by then, I was living alone in an empty house.
Well, it wasn't always entirely empty. Every now and then, my sister's grandchildren came to visit, and I spent time with them.
What else can I say?
I was never able to marry again. Perhaps that sounds foolish to some people. But have you ever felt that your heart belonged completely to one person, with absolutely nothing you could do to change it? That's precisely how I felt.
Then one evening, while I was preparing myself a cup of tea, someone knocked on my front door.
I opened it and froze completely.
