“I never really knew why Helen wore this ring,” he murmured, “and I only figured it out a few weeks ago.” The box shook faintly. “When I was a little boy, she used to call me her little moon.” He chuckled, looking at the ring. “That was my nickname. ‘Come here, little moon,’ she’d say before tucking me in bed. And, in the past months, when I missed you so bad it hurt, I looked at this ring over and over again, finally realizing that’s exactly what you are to me. My little moon, brightening my path and pushing the darkness away from my life.”
