And suddenly, I no longer saw my nineteen-year-old husband.
I saw a stranger wearing his face.
“You were right about one thing,” I said.
“What?”
“At our age, we really shouldn’t waste time.” I pointed toward the gate. “So please don’t waste another minute in my house.”
Nobody spoke as Danny walked away.
Helen stepped beside me.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“Not today.”
“But someday?”
I looked at the rows of empty wedding chairs.
For fifty-five years, I’d waited for Danny.
I wasn’t waiting for anyone anymore.
I’d thought keeping that cheap ring all those years meant staying loyal to him.
Now I understood the person who deserved my loyalty was me.