Bitter Ends

The scent of metal and polish hung softly in Izzy's sunlit studio. Around her, sketches and fabric swatches adorned the walls, a testament to her meticulous craft. On her desk, a scattering of jewelry molds and glittering gemstones caught the morning light.

She turned the delicate gold band between her fingers, watching the diamond splinter the sun into tiny, dancing rainbows across the room. This ring, a perfect culmination of her passion, was finally ready. Every curve, every facet, bore her signature artistry.

Months before the wedding, she had designed this engagement ring. Ethan had called it fate when she showed him, but Izzy knew better. They were planners, both of them, and this was more than fate; it was a promise, a confirmation of their destined union.

“Izzy, you home?” Ethan’s voice drifted from the front of the apartment.

“Yeah, in the studio!” she called back, carefully placing the ring on a velvet tray before making her way toward him.