“We have a backup plan for the ceremony,” he said.

He reached into his left pocket and pulled out a small, faded velvet box.

He held it out to me across the room.

I took the box and pried the stiff hinges open.

The two antique gold grandmother rings sat pressed into the old satin lining.

They were heavy and perfectly round, completely untouched by the chaos of the week.

“You kept them safe,” I said.