Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the pawn shop seemed to intensify the throbbing in Michael's temples. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. The ring, sitting there, in the glass case, seemed to taunt him.

He had promised her, hadn’t he? Promised to cherish it, keep it safe. The words echoed in his memory, a hollow, mocking refrain. He knew the story behind the ring, the love and the sacrifices. His grandfather, a man of few words, had given it to her on their engagement.

He feigned interest in a chipped ceramic vase near the counter. The shopkeeper watched him, unblinking. The ring glittered, reflecting the harsh light, each facet a reminder of his failings. Every breath felt like a struggle.

Finally, he turned back to the ring. He took a deep, shaky breath, and pointed.