Faux Diamond

The view beyond the black-tint window blurred into a green and grey color palette, mimicking those of an abstract painter's extravagant paintings. I shifted my gaze on my mom who sat besides me. She was wearing a lavish pink outfit that perfectly fit her physique. Her brown hair was tied into a bun, streaked with a lighter shade of blonde. A single jewelry strung on her neck; a pink diamond wrapped with silver metal on its edges.

My mom had always been a consumer for luxurious brands that were made by designers. The price was irrelevant to her. All that matter was that it appeals to her. She'd even bought a red handkerchief with an embroidered pink 'hello' in the center for $30,000.

Her persona glimmered like a rose amidst a dead land. But every rose has its thorns that prick you. Despite her grand spending on original items, she'd always wear that worn-out ring. It was supposed to be an imitation diamond but its paint has peeled off after a long time. Definitely an eye sore.

"Can I ask you something, Mom?" I asked my mom. Her face shifted to face me. Her eyes were a royal blue, a complement to her royal-like lifestyle. Eyelashes that curve like a bow and cheekbones that sprung on delicate face. It's quite shocking that she never got under the knife and still looked beautiful for her age.

"What is it, hun?" She asked in a motherly tone, seemingly concerned.

"Why do you still wear that ring?" Pointing at the worn ring.

Her mouth curved into a smile; teeth glinting in the dim-lit car. "Your dad promised to treat me like a queen when we got married." She said, grinning at the thought. Her cheeks blushed into a light pink. "Both of us had families that were never rich. Definitely not born with a silver spoon." Dad and her always told me the story of how they went from rags to riches. It was a reality they had to faced. Something I'll never experience because they did not want to. They talked about how dad struck oil on their old farm and mom finishing her education to become a top-class doctor.

"Being poor, I thought that what your dad said was a hyperbole," she continued, looking at that the old jewelry. "I never expected him to give me this." She raised her hands to give me a closer look at the familiar ring. "He even apologized because it was fake. But I did not care about its price. The faux diamond ring appealed me. It was special. Despite being poor, your dad managed to make me feel like a queen. A queen of imitations." She chuckled at the joke.

"But I love him and I love his small gestures of making me a royal," she added. I sensed myself smile at the story. The ring may had been fake but their love was real. Too pure for this blasted world. A love that I'd like to experience one day. Love from feelings, not from the materials things.