Liam knelt before me in the park. My heart raced as he pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket.
I had noticed his unusual excitement when we arrived for our picnic today, but this possibility never crossed my mind.
I gazed at him, observing the silly, affectionate smile that covered his face. Could this truly be the moment I had anticipated?
"Lily," he began, his voice slightly trembling, "We've spent six years together. Throughout that time, we've faced every challenge life presented and emerged stronger. I cannot picture my future without you. Will you marry me?"
He revealed a plain gold ring with a modest, single diamond as he opened the box.
"I wanted to use your mother's ring for my proposal," he quickly added, "but I couldn't locate it in your jewelry collection, so I purchased this one temporarily."
Rather than answering immediately, I burst into tears.
These weren't the gentle, refined tears from films. These were intense, uncontrolled sobs that made my whole body shake.
It was complete, genuine happiness, like a massive wave flowing over me. Yet alongside it existed this vast emptiness, this fresh, painful void where Mom should have been.
"Yes, I'll marry you," I replied between sobs.
Liam exhaled with relief and placed the ring on my finger. I dried my eyes while watching how the light reflected across the diamond's surface.
"Carl still has Mom's ring," I explained. "Mom and I discussed the ring before she died, but everything happened so quickly at the end..."
"I know." Liam shifted closer and embraced me. "I wish she could be here to witness this."
My mother passed away last year. She had always told me her white gold ring with emeralds and fine vine engravings along the band would become mine when the time was right.
This family treasure had passed through generations in our family. More importantly, it represented a piece of her, a tangible reminder of how her laughter filled any space, and how she playfully called me "Princess Lilian" when teasing me.
Grief had consumed me so completely when she died that I forgot to ask Carl, my stepfather, about the ring. Now, it was time to claim what was mine.
The thought filled me with slight worry.
Carl was a decent person. He tried his best to serve as a parent to me after my father passed away, but a persistent disagreement between him and my mother always bothered me.
Carl had a daughter named Vanessa from his earlier marriage. She was already in her teens when my mother married Carl, and we never bridged the seven-year age difference between us.
Since she was older, Carl constantly argued that Vanessa should receive my mother's ring.
"It makes sense," Carl would complain. "Vanessa will probably get engaged earlier because she's older, and she should have something special."
"I won't ignore her needs, Carl. I have beautiful jewelry she can inherit, including my ruby Claddagh ring, but that particular ring belongs to Lily, period."
Despite my mother's firm stance, the ring remained a point of conflict. During their arguments over time, the ring topic would inevitably arise.
Therefore, when I messaged Carl to inform him I would visit to collect something from my mother's jewelry collection, I deliberately didn't mention I was coming for the ring.
Carl embraced me warmly when he welcomed me the following day.
"Hello, Lily! It's been ages," he said. "Amelia's jewelry box remains in the upstairs dresser drawer, where she always stored it. Take what you need, and I'll prepare coffee for us."
I expressed gratitude and hurried upstairs. I opened the dresser drawer, removed the jewelry box, and lifted the lid. My heart sank immediately.
The velvet compartment where my mother's ring should have been was vacant.
My spirits collapsed. I searched through all my mother's accessories, but the ring was nowhere to be found. I heard Carl approaching in the hallway. As soon as he entered the room, I questioned him directly.
"Where is the ring?" I asked. "Mom's engagement ring she promised would be mine."
"Vanessa has it now," Carl replied, casually drinking his coffee. "She became engaged last week."
"What? You gave her my mother's ring?" I asked, speaking barely audibly, with shock evident in my voice.
"She got engaged," Carl repeated, sounding frustratingly logical. "It made perfect sense. We're all family, Lily."
"You know that wasn't meant for her," I said, my voice growing louder. "You know Mom intended it for me."
"Don't be greedy," he retorted, his eyes becoming distant and harsh. "It's merely a ring."
Merely a ring. As if it were some unimportant object, lacking significance. As if it didn't contain family history, my mother's memory.
"It's not 'merely a ring,' and you understand that," I said angrily as I rushed past him. "I can't believe you would do this to me, Carl!"
I entered my car and immediately grabbed my phone. I needed to contact Liam. I had to explain what occurred and hear his reassurance that everything would be alright.
But then I noticed an Instagram alert. Vanessa had published a new photo.
My hands trembled as I touched the notification. Shortly after, I nearly cried out as a series of images appeared on my display.
It showed an engagement announcement, and every image featured Vanessa displaying my ring like a prize.
"Six months of love and I get to wear this forever 💍 #EmeraldQueen," stated the description.
Disgust overwhelmed me. She recognized that ring was rightfully mine, yet wore it regardless, showing it off, intensifying my pain.
I immediately traveled to Grandmother Margaret's residence and shared the entire situation. She listened, occasionally touching my shoulder supportively while I dissolved into tears.
After I finished speaking, she placed her teacup down and made a sharp, critical noise.
"They believe they can alter our family history?" she remarked, her tone quiet yet threatening. "We must show them they cannot."
Grandmother firmly instructed me to stop worrying and trust her to handle everything.
Several days later, I received a message from her stating she had organized a formal morning meal, "honoring Amelia," and that Carl and Vanessa had confirmed their attendance.
I believed this formed part of her strategy, but I never could have predicted how mercilessly Grandmother intended to humble them!
On the scheduled day of Grandmother's brunch, Vanessa entered wearing spotless white attire, brazenly showing off the ring.
After everyone sat down to eat, Grandmother stood, cleared her throat, and raised a small velvet container.
"Before my daughter died," she announced, her words piercing the quiet, "she and I thoroughly discussed her intentions. She anticipated certain individuals might attempt to take what wasn't theirs. That's why... she entrusted the genuine heirloom ring to me."
Vanessa's happy expression wavered, her eyes widened with shock. Carl tensed, his face reddened with combined rage and terror.
"The one decorating your finger, Vanessa?" Grandmother said, her voice filled with contempt. "It's a copy. Worth only a few hundred at most."
"That's incorrect—" Carl began, his voice breaking, his poise disintegrating.
"You provided your daughter with imitation jewelry and labeled it an heirloom," Grandmother stated, her eyes firm as gemstones. "She must feel so honored."
Grandmother then faced me, her expression softening. She opened the box, revealing the authentic ring, familiar and historically significant.
"Your mother wished for you to receive this when you were prepared. And I knew you would arrive when the moment was right."
I placed it on my finger, the cool metal a reassuring weight. It fit flawlessly, as if destined to be there. It felt like she remained present, her essence a warm, comforting hug.
"You deceived me," Vanessa said, her voice unsteady, her face flushed with fury. "I've already informed everyone—"
Grandmother raised one eyebrow, completely untroubled. "Then publish an update. Something like: Oops — seems I took the incorrect one."
Carl attempted to speak, to protect his daughter, but remained silent. Grandmother had outsmarted him completely and he had no possible response.
I stayed quiet. No words were necessary. I glanced at my hand, seeing Mom's ring shine on my finger.
Women in my family had exchanged vows wearing this ring for generations. I sensed their collective presence surrounding me, with Mom beside me, her spirit providing silent, reassuring power.
