Smirking a little, James had to assure him, "I'm sure I won't miss you that much." Of course what he didn't say was that he wouldn't miss him at all. He may have been lying had he said that.
He watched him walk back toward the door, ready to settle himself in for a long night of not sleeping, of restless thoughts, when Fisher turned back around and came back to the bed. He quirked a brow slightly, eyes following his hand, and then he remembered. Leaning up, he took the ring into hand, looking down at it for a moment as he idly remarked, "This is my father's ring." His father who was missing, who had taken off and abandoned his family, who was worthless, and yet it meant so much to him, clearly. Anyone would know it just by the way that he had said it.