Gemotions

He stared at the ring, a lump forming in his throat. It was unmistakable; the emerald his grandfather had given his grandmother, Martha. He’d seen it countless times, admired it on her hand throughout his childhood. How it ended up here, in this dusty, cluttered pawn shop, was beyond his understanding.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he was still prone to. This had been the center of so many family memories. Family gatherings, Christmas dinners, birthdays – the emerald, vibrant and brilliant, had always been there. Now, it was just…here. Behind glass, for sale.

"That's a nice one, ain't it?" The shopkeeper, a man with a bored expression, leaned against the counter. He felt an urge to just snatch it and run. He bit his lip. “How much?”