I had no idea how long “always” would be at our ages, but I shared the passion behind the sentiment. And I knew this ring represented something far different than the wedding ring of my embittered[16] first marriage. That one, a wide gold band, was lying by itself in a jewel box. Strange that a ring purchased by such a young couple should hold less hope than the one I was about to wear, for possibly much less time.
My former husband and I had met in our 20s, had had a long-distance relationship during the school year, and after making up following a summer breakup,[17] he proposed a quick wedding. I knew how I felt—I was sure I was over-the-moon[18] happy. I shushed[19] the diffident voice in my head.
I could still clearly recall greeting my former husband as he arrived at my parent’s home for our garden wedding, and flinching as I heard him say, “Is it too late to back out[20]?” He laughed, I went into denial. And why did I not allow a moment of question even after seeing the “Just Divorced” sign he and his mother had attached to the back of our honeymoon car?
There is no way to escape pondering[21] a first marriage when about to enter a second. Now, four decades later, what I felt for my new husband-to-be was the joy of truly knowing him, and knowing that he understood love—how to feel it, how to give it. I too had learned how to love a man, and love myself. And I knew that we had the “in sickness” part of our vows down pat[22]. We were ready for each other.
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★ 六级阅读资料 Women managers in Asia: Untapped talent.
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