My father wore the same silver ring every day of his life.
Not on his wedding finger.
The other hand.
Whenever anyone asked about it, he'd smile and change the subject.
After he died, I had it resized for my brother.
The jeweler examined the inscription inside and looked up at me.
"Who is Amelia?"
I laughed.
"No idea."
The jeweler turned the ring around.
"Because according to this date, he married her six years before he married your mother."
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