Now she knew companionship could take many forms, and love was not measured by how much of herself she surrendered.

Before bed she took out the envelope containing her wedding ring.

She turned it once between her fingers, remembering the vows she had meant.

She did not throw it away.

She placed it in a small keepsake box beside photographs of her grandmother and a dried flower from her college graduation.

A failed marriage had been part of her life.

It did not need to be the whole of it.