Gemotions

Clara felt a cold dread creep through her. The ring. Her grandmother's ring. A symbol of enduring love, now cheapened, tarnished by her impulsive actions. It felt like a betrayal. The shop seemed to shrink, the walls closing in, the air thick with the stench of failure.

She picked it up, the cool metal a shock against her warm skin. It had belonged to her grandmother for sixty years. Sixty years. Clara stared at the intricate design, a story of her family, a story she'd almost erased. She felt the tears begin to prick her eyes, blurring the familiar sparkle of the stones.