Let me get ahead of it: it's not longing. I'm not sitting here pining for the marriage. That chapter's genuinely closed and I'm fine with it closed.
The bangles were my grandmother's gift, given to me before the wedding. Hers, not his. Somewhere in all those years of marriage the two things fused in my head — her love and that whole chapter — and it got hard to hold one without the other coming along.
Now I wear them once a year, on her death anniversary. Quietly. I don't announce it and nobody asks, which is exactly how I want it.
They stopped being wedding bangles a long time ago. They're just hers now. I decided that, and I get to.