The Lost Ring

I was driving from the market yesterday when I stumbled upon two old ladies with shopping bags. It was raining cats and dogs, and they were both without a raincoat, or even an umbrella. I quickly invited them into my car; they hesitated at first, but the weather convinced them otherwise.
They were completely soaked.
I offered them some of the fruit I had taken from the grocery store, but they said they had already eaten. They told me they lived nearby, so I drove them there.
I drive through that street almost every day, but this was the first time I actually noticed the house. It looked completely out of place, like an old castle from a different time. It had a well kept garden and one of those fancy metallic fences you see in gothic mansions. Most of it was rusty, but I could see myself live there.
I wondered why they did, though.
I helped them carry their groceries and was on my way back to the car when they invited me home. I refused at first, but they pretty much forced me to. 'Please don't leave,' she said, 'after what you did for us it's the least we could do... Besides, we haven't had guest in years...'
How would you say no?
They were two sisters: Margaret and Claire. Both their husbands had lost their lives in World War II. They lived in this big old mansion because they had inherited it from their great-grandfather, a son of jewelers, and they never really bothered to move. They said they didn't mind the loneliness of the place. 'All our memories are in this house', Claire said. 'There's no point in leaving now.'
They offered me tea. I didn't refuse it this time; it smelled delicious. Margaret handed me the cup while Claire showed me the family album. I noticed they didn't have any children, but I didn't talk about it.
She was flipping through a page when the cup slipped from my fingers. Spilled tea all over my shirt and pants. They tried to help, but I got up and went to the bathroom. I tried to wash it off, but this isn't just something you can clean with cold water. It looked like I'd peed myself.
I thanked them, finished my tea and said goodbye. They were visibly concerned and embarrassed, but I told them it happens sometimes. They were acting like it was their fault, but I tried to comfort them. This made me feel sorry for the old ladies in a way, but I didn't know how to make them feel any better.
When I got home, I realized I'd forgotten my ring in the old sisters' house. I took it out while scrubbing the shirt and must have forgotten to put it back in my finger.
I drove to their house the next day after work. I knocked for a good two minutes, but they didn't answer. I found it odd that they weren't home, considering it was almost night. I decided to wait for a while in hopes they'd show up.
This was my wedding ring. My wife passed away five years ago, and I never took out the ring ever since.
I found myself asking why I did take it out while washing the tea stain. I never do. Ever. Looking back, It's a little weird that I did. I was perfectly capable of washing some stupid stain with the goddamned ring on.
Maybe I should have kept it on.
A man walked by. It was already night, so I approached him.
'Excuse me, do you live nearby?'
'I do', the man said.
'Do you know when the ladies that live here will be home? I've been here for hours and they don't seem home.'
The man looked at me with a troubled glare. 'Are you sure you're at the right place?'
'Yes, I'm looking for the Craddley sisters, do you know where they are?'
He paused for a second.
'Sir... They passed away more than 20 years ago.'