Gemotions

The bell above the door jangled, announcing his entrance, and Mark clenched his jaw. This was a fool's errand. He knew it, he just knew it. But the family needed to have this ring. The ring had been everything to his mother. He swallowed hard. The shop owner, a man with a perpetually greasy comb-over, barely looked up from his newspaper. Mark pointed to the case. "Do you have any… any vintage engagement rings?" His voice sounded thin, even to his own ears. He felt the familiar heat rising in his cheeks.