“Mine is sitting in my wooden jewelry box back home in Oak Ridge,” I said, my voice dropping lower.

“You don’t need to wear the gold band to honor the good years you spent building a life together,” June said softly.

Walt reached over and squeezed June’s wrist.

“She’s right, you know.

June left her ring on the kitchen windowsill for six months back in eighty-two, after we lost the lease on our hardware store.”

“I put it back on when we figured out what came next,” June said, offering a small, comforting smile.

“Things look completely different once you give the dust a chance to settle.”