Gemotions

The air in the pawn shop was thick with the scent of dust and despair. Liam stood near the counter, his shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the floor. He'd been avoiding phone calls, emails, and any form of human contact. He was a shell of himself, emptied by recent events.

A flash of recognition drew his eyes upward. The ring. He had seen it on his grandmother’s hand, so many times. It was a symbol of love, of commitment, of everything he felt he’d failed to achieve.

He found himself unable to speak, the words stuck in his throat, a painful constriction. He pointed, his finger trembling as he indicated the ring, the weight of his feelings a physical ache. The world seemed to be fading around him.