The men had decided they no longer wanted to continue their annual tradition with Mark.
I thanked Ben, though I no longer needed updates about my ex-husband.
A few days later, while unpacking the last box from our old house, I found a wooden jewelry box.
Inside lay Mark’s original wedding ring.
The one he’d stopped wearing 12 years earlier.
For years, I’d thought keeping it safe was a small act of love.
Now I understood that a ring had never been proof of commitment.
Mark had worn one for Claire while lying to her.
He’d left another in our drawer while lying to me.
Neither ring had made him faithful.
I closed the box.
My phone buzzed with a message from Claire.
She’d started taking a painting class and wondered whether I’d like to join her.
I smiled and said yes.
For months, I’d wondered what Mark saw in Claire that he hadn’t seen in me.
