Monty dips into his pocket, pulling out a small rust orange velvet box. A few weeks after Miller moved to Chicago, I went to Monty’s apartment and asked how he felt about me asking his daughter to marry me. He cried a little, mostly out of joy, before pulling out a ring he had kept with him for over twenty years. It was the ring he was going to propose to Miller’s mom with, but never got the chance to.
