Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the pawn shop seemed to magnify every blemish on her face. Her reflection in the glass of the display case was a stranger, a woman etched with lines of worry she hadn’t earned yet. This whole thing was a terrible idea. Still, she’d convinced herself it was a necessity.

She hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself smaller as she asked the man behind the counter about the ring. He didn’t seem impressed, barely glanced up from his newspaper, then pointed a thick finger at a tarnished silver band. “Over there, lady. Take your pick.”

Her stomach clenched. This was exactly what she deserved, wasn't it? Another fumble, another failure. Picking up the magnifying glass, her hand shook as she looked closely at the inscription: “Forever, Yours.” It was the same handwriting she recognized from countless recipe cards, from notes tucked inside birthday presents. Her grandmother's.