His Promise Shines Brilliantly

My phone chimed at 8:09 this morning, and the preview window announced a text from Paul. My heart leaped a tiny bit in my chest. I love seeing his name pop up on my phone.

But the message gave me pause.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," I texted back. "Are you?"

"Yeah I just noticed that you left your ring and necklace in the bathroom today and I wanted to make sure."

I had noticed the same thing this morning on the way to my rendezvous point with Tiffany. I always take my jewelry off when I dye my hair, but today, for the first time ever, I forgot to put them back on.

My finger started to itch the moment I noticed the missing ring. It's absence is conspicuous as I go about my routines--the familiar slip of gold against my skin, the feeling of small diamonds leaving their impression in the palm of my opposite hand. There is a permanent indent around my ring finger where the band should be.

I feel naked.

 My ring is small, understated, and in my opinion, brilliantly beautiful. Five diamonds sparkle in a horizontal line, held together by a thin band of yellow gold. It travelled from an Iraqi jeweller's booth and across the world to take its place on my finger, and it is my most prized possession.

It represents a promise from Paul that I desperately needed last February. With simple clarity, it told me that at long last, he was mine.

Someday it will be replaced with a different ring that represents the next step, the next promise. While it may be relocated, my little ring will never be replaced in my heart, and it will never leave my hands.

Not for long, anyway.