But no one ever became Thomas.
Eventually, I stopped trying.
Some people thought that was tragic.
I didn’t.
I had a full life.
Thirty-eight years as a librarian.
A small house with tall windows.Gems & Jewelry
Books everywhere.
My younger sister, Carol.
Her sons, Danny and Peter, who grew up treating me like a second mother.
Birthdays.
Christmas dinners.
Summer evenings.
Friends.
Work.
Travel.
I was never sitting in a dark room waiting for a dead boy to come back.
But I never stopped loving him either.
And I never took off the copper ring.
Once, about twenty years ago, a jeweler noticed it.
“That’s bending badly,” he said. “I could straighten it for you.”
I nearly pulled my hand away like he had threatened to cut off my finger.
“No.”
He blinked.
“I wouldn’t damage it.”
“You don’t touch it.”
“All right.”
“My fiancé made this exactly this way.”
