Kept

Certain people depart, yet the room they occupied doesn't leave with them. It lingers. It's the vacant chair, the contact you never erased, the tale you continue to tell as though it's still happening.

This ring carries a small open oval, much like a locket or photo frame, set on a thin band and deliberately left empty. There's no stone, no picture, no engraving inside. What counts is the empty space itself. The person it's meant for is known to you alone.

Wear Kept for the mother whose voice still rings in your ears. For the husband whose half of the bed you've never taken over. For the friend who knew you when you were nineteen. For anyone who shared one chapter with you and somehow remains present in every chapter after.

Layer it with your other rings — this is the one that makes certain they have a place in the story as well.