Gemotions

The ring sparkled mockingly in the display case. It was a beautiful, elegant thing, and it was hers. His grandmother's. He felt a familiar knot of regret tightening in his stomach. He hadn't called, hadn't written, hadn't visited. He’d prioritized work. Now, the quietness of the shop felt loud.

He examined the faces of other customers. They were each here for their own reasons, it seemed. Each with their own circumstances. He understood the feeling. He found himself unable to meet anyone's gaze. The weight of his actions, his inactions, settled heavily on his shoulders. He felt the sting of tears prick his eyes. He hated the way he was.

He cleared his throat. "How much is it?" he asked, his voice strained. He braced himself for a price he couldn't pay, a reminder of what he had lost.