Erasmus stacked his ring above a bigger, blingier one, and you could almost miss the delicate loop—that is, unless you have a very personal reason not to. For a minute, I was flooded with all the bridezilla rage I never had when I was actually getting married. I was involuntarily thrust into an imaginary “Who Wore It Best” competition spanning five centuries. (To be clear: I wore it best.) I thought of the Renaissance man with scorn, convinced that I was clearly better equipped to rock a sapphire.
I called my husband into the den, pointed at the painting, and said, “Look!” “What?” he asked, confused about what he was supposed to see. “The ring—it looks just like mine!” I answered. “Oh yeah, kinda,” he replied, and promptly returned to the living room to impersonate distant family members with his uncles.
Kinda. Once my temporary wave of jealousy broke, I saw that he was right. Erasmus’s ring might resemble mine from the small sliver that is visible, and yes, we have the same precious blue gemstone. But the similarities may have ended there.