Walter continued.
“I went to the jeweler yesterday.”
His eyes moved toward the gold ring.Chemistry
“I finally bought it.”
“Fifty-five years late.”
“Yes.”
“And then you left it in my mailbox.”
“I thought I might die before I found enough courage to knock.”
I looked at the envelope.
Walter whispered:
“I couldn’t take Thomas’s promise into the ground with me.”
I sat down.
For several minutes, neither of us moved.
Then I opened the letter.
The paper was fragile.
Soft from years of being folded and unfolded.
The first line destroyed me.
If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it back.
I stopped.
Walter stared at the floor.
I tried again.
Thomas wrote that he loved me.
That was no surprise.
But seeing the words after fifty-five years made me feel eighteen again.
He wrote that he was sorry the ring he gave me was “the ugliest engagement ring in America.”
