The Mystery of My Ring

“You’re sure this is your wedding ring?” the jeweler asked softly. I froze, the question hitting me like a sudden chill. My hand instinctively tightened around the ring, its familiar weight now feeling strangely foreign. How could I not be sure?

I studied the tiny grooves and scratches that had formed over decades, every mark a testament to my life. This was my ring…how could it not be? But his words unsettled me. What was he seeing that I wasn’t? As doubt began to creep in, the once-simple band in my hand started to feel like a riddle I wasn’t ready to confront.