Me and my gift

Back in February, I lost the diamond from my engagement ring.  It was an oval cut at just under a quarter carat.

I loved it.

It was modest, but what made it so special was that Rob had picked it out himself, surprising me with it the day after my 18th birthday, at which time he sang me a song (while playing his guitar), got down on one knee, and proposed.

I'd had it almost 20 years, and I was heartsick to lose it.

I'd hoped he'd have it fixed for my birthday since that marked 20 years since our engagement (shy of a day, of course).  But he didn't.  I was disappointed, pouted a bit, realized he was probably waiting for our cruise, then felt quite chagrined that I might have ruined his plans.

The ring and other needs-repair jewelry disappeared from our bedroom a few days later.

Last week, he gave me the three necklaces back, shiny and complete once again.  I was not surprised, but quite pleased. 

Then on Friday evening, we went to the mall with The Daughter's birthstone ring to have it resized.  He asked the jeweler how much and when told the price, he looked at me and said, "Would you excuse me for a moment."

He knows that I get uncomfortable when he haggles discusses price, so I strolled out to the water fountains and waited.  A few minutes later he returned with the ring box in hand.

"You aren't going to get it fixed there?"

(Despite the price going up a bit, I knew he liked that jewelry store, as he'd had his ring resized and my necklaces repaired there, so I was a bit confused.)

"Well, what do you think of this?" he said and handed me the box.  I opened it up and found...