Another note told Dave, Ray, and Tommy to keep quiet.
Especially Ray.
I almost laughed through my tears.
Then I saw the sentence typed in bold at the top of the spreadsheet.
MARRY LEE AGAIN — WHILE I STILL REMEMBER WHY.
I read it again.
And again.
The jewelry receipt wasn’t for another woman.
The hotel reservation wasn’t an affair.
The ring mark wasn’t evidence of a second marriage.
My husband was planning to marry me again.
Before his memories faded.
I opened a folder filled with photographs.
Pictures from our first wedding.
Our honeymoon.
The dock where he’d proposed after knowing me for only eight days.
There was also a document labeled:
VOWS — DRAFT 9.
I didn’t open it.
Some things were still meant to be spoken aloud.
Then I noticed another video.
RING
Mark appeared outdoors, standing beside the lake.
He held his left hand toward the camera.
A broad gold band circled his damaged finger.
A thin line of silver ran around its center.
He was smiling.
“Lee, the jeweler made a temporary ring so we could test the design.”
He demonstrated a tiny hinge.
“It opens right over my bad knuckle.”
He laughed.
“Twelve years, and I can finally wear a ring again without it hurting.”
He explained that he planned to keep the trial
ring on throughout the weekend.
He wanted to test whether it remained comfortable while fishing, sleeping, and going about his day.
Then his expression became more thoughtful.
“The doctor says routines can help.”
He looked down at the ring.
“Things we do every day. Familiar objects. Habits.”
He paused.
“So I keep thinking… if I wear this ring every day, maybe when my memory gets worse, it’ll still mean something to me.”
His voice softened.
“Maybe someday I won’t remember why I wear it. But perhaps I’ll look at my hand and feel that it matters.”
He smiled at the camera.
“See you soon, Lee. Remember to act surprised.”
The video ended.
I stared at the blank screen.
That was the pale mark.
Three days of wearing a temporary wedding ring in the summer sunshine.
That was all.
The hotel key had come from his visit to our honeymoon room.
He’d wanted to make sure it still looked familiar.
The jewelry receipt represented the final payment for our new rings.
Carol at the café hadn’t been hiding an affair.
