The ring had spent many years hidden in the nightstand.
Its original recipient long gone.
A Tiffany diamond for Tiffany.
She had been my first true love. The woman who I had planned to live my life with. The woman who I had expected to build a family with.
But the ring never reached her finger. The night before I was to propose, she disappeared, never to be heard from again.
I spent years searching for her. We had a “Find Tiffany” campaign covering the entire western seaboard.
And yet, she didn’t reappear.
Years ago, I had given up. And with it, I had given up dating. A part of me, that part of me, was dead.
Or so I thought.
But I had found her. Another perfect woman. A woman worthy of waking up in the morning. A woman worthy of changing my mind.
And so, without needing to know more, I proposed.
With that telltale sparkle in her eyes, Abigail whispered, “Yes.”
I was in bliss.