Toby glanced down at his shoes with a shy grin. “He’d say they’re too shiny.”

“He would,” I replied warmly.

For a moment I almost reached beside me out of habit, expecting to feel Walter’s hand there.

As the service ended and people began leaving, Ruth touched my arm.

“Mama, do you want to step outside for some air?”

“Not yet,” I said.

That was when I noticed a man standing quietly near Walter’s photograph. He lingered there as though unsure whether to approach.

“Do you know him?” Ruth asked softly.

“I don’t think so,” I replied. But his old military jacket caught my eye. “Though he may have known your father.”

The man slowly walked toward us, and suddenly the room felt smaller.

“Edith?” he asked gently.

I nodded. “Yes. Did you know Walter?”

“My name is Paul,” he said. “We served together many years ago.”

I studied his face. “Walter never mentioned you.”

Paul gave a faint smile. “He probably wouldn’t have.”

Then he held out a small box. The edges were worn, as if it had been carried for many years.

“He made me promise something,” Paul said quietly. “If I outlived him, this was meant for you.”

My hands trembled as I accepted it.

Inside the box rested a thin gold wedding band—smaller than mine and worn smooth with time. Beneath it lay a folded note written in Walter’s familiar handwriting.

For one terrible moment my heart raced with fear.

“Mama?” Ruth asked softly. “What is it?”

I stared at the ring.

“This isn’t mine,” I whispered.

Toby looked confused. “Grandpa left you another ring?”

I shook my head slowly. “No, sweetheart. It belongs to someone else.”

I turned to Paul, my voice tight.

“Why would my husband have another woman’s wedding ring?”

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