This was a joke. Somebody else's man. 

Because she loved him, the man who had his hand in hers and his ring on her finger. But he wasn't the sort to light up the starry dark with their initials in a fiery blaze-- darkness lit up suddenly, enormously. Initials like a school kid crush. A crazed display like a soul-sick poet's. That wasn't her Jim...
Was it?

Buy for your story at a discount. 

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