Gemotions

The air in the pawn shop was stale, thick with the scent of forgotten lives. He'd thought he could detach, rationalize. Now, staring at the ring, those defenses crumbled. The ring, his grandmother's, a symbol of unwavering devotion. He felt a vise tighten around his chest, a sensation of profound self-loathing.

He couldn't breathe. He'd done it. He’d broken a promise, shattered a bond. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, though he knew he didn't deserve it. He forced himself to walk away, each step a heavy burden.