Not after the promises I made.
I slipped the ring into my jacket, heading for customer service.
Before I took three steps, a voice broke through the aisle.
“No… please… no…”
An elderly woman rushed toward us, panic written across her face.
Her purse hung open, belongings spilling out.
Her hands shook as she searched the floor.
“I’ve lost it,” she whispered. “I know I’ve lost it.”
I gently stopped her.
“Are you looking for this?”
I pulled the ring from my pocket.
Her breath caught.
Tears filled her eyes instantly.
“That’s mine,” she said softly.
“My husband gave it to me for our fiftieth anniversary.
He passed away three years ago.
I wear it every day.”
When she took it, she pressed it against her chest and cried quietly.
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