We both knew that my hand in his was our declaration of love, more than the words or ceremony.+++I look at the worn ring on my finger. The ring has sc...atches because it is soft gold. A harder gold would have been more practical. Later John had bought me two other harder gold rings for daily wear. This one on my old woman’s hand is the one he slid on my finger at the altar. Nothing could replace it. I touch it gently. It’s not the same as my hand in John’s yet it is a symbol of our love.I lift. It just didn't work out. I wish you well. Good bye."I was reaching for the phone on the coffee table to cut it off. We heard, "Freddie, you know I don't like that name. We were meant to..." I disconnected the phone. Holding it in my hand, I thought a moment and turned it off completely.Rhonda smiled, "I hadn't seen that side of you before, Fred." She emphasized my name. She had caught my grimace at "Freddie." She grinned. "I have a cure. Take me to bed and fuck my ass into next week. Do me just. More

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