Gemotions

"The ring, my love," her mother had said on the phone, her voice weak but firm. "It's time." Isabella stared at the emerald and diamond ring. It felt like a lifetime since her mother had given it to her. The thought sent a jolt of energy through her, though.

She surveyed the apartment, the blank canvases in the corner, the brushes lined up, the scent of turpentine lingering in the air. Her art career, though just starting, was blossoming. The ring’s sale would fund the exhibition she'd been dreaming of.

Isabella carefully took the ring out of the velvet case. The setting caught the light, and for a moment, the color took her breath. She smiled at the prospect of the possibilities ahead. She felt lighter, more alive than she had in months.