...of devotion

And Tom! Dear, dearest Tom, who had insisted that she wear white: You are my bride! He had almost raised his voice, and so she had worn Tom's mother's gown, and carried lily of the valley and white roses. He was so adorable and precious when he fumbled, all hot and red, with the ring, a simple gold band that looked so beautiful next to the huge engagement ring he had given her, a band that she had promised herself that she would never, never take off, no matter what, they could kill her! Inside, and so small that you almost needed a magnifying glass to read it, Tom had the date engraved in Roman numerals and - just like the yacht - "Tomarie," because, he explained, it means we are joined forever, we are one flesh. How she had blushed at the word! She would always remember how his breath caught as he whispered it, as she picked rice out of his silky and shining waves. But the most darling thing were the beautiful words also inside the ring, "One Alone To Be My Own." And even now she thrilled as she thought of those words pressed against her flesh.
It was their secret and in the months of joy that followed it was to be a secret that they shared everywhere. In crowded parties, amidst the hullabaloo of restaurant dinners after board meetings, on weekends in Long Island where they went to hunt grouses and pheasant, even crowded together with the hoi polloi and riffraff when they went, for a lark, into the streets full of the common people to search for dear little bargains that it was such fun to buy. They would look into each other's eyes and Tom's would get all crinkled and silently they knew that they were thinking, together, "One Alone To By Own." They started to call it the secret of the ring, and then just the secret, and drove everyone who knew them just crazy. And it was true, "one alone," and would be forever and ever!

[Aberration of Starlight, Sorrentino, G.]