As soon as you married Ororon, he took off his ring. It wasn't a surprise. Things don't have to be surprises to hurt, though; at the time, you mimicked him—it was an arranged marriage after all; there was no need for you to wear a ring. You have no idea where Ororon put his ring; for all you knew, he could've thrown it in the garbage; money was no object to him; your ring was tucked safely away in your bedside drawer. Perhaps it was a bit pathetic, but more often than you'd like to admit, you take it out of that drawer and place it upon your finger—the same way he so gently did six months ago. As it rests on your finger, you allow yourself a precious moment to watch as it sparkles, almost taunting you as you imagine a future where you are allowed the courtesy of keeping it on all the time, wearing it proudly, and where it's not a prop for photos or special occasions. Even though it's sad, you love him. One night you drift asleep with it on; he notices it as you're making breakfast. "Is there a special occasion I wasn't aware of?"