The certificate was found. "Jubilee Jewelry Store." Zayan had purchased the ring from there. It was located two cities away. I'll leave at dawn, Anisa thought before sleep finally took her. She knew she wouldn't get the full price he'd paid, but even 80% could be a lifeline. Letting go of this last, memory-soaked gift was a visceral pain, but she had no other choice. š©
The next morning, before her in-laws stirred, she stuck a note to the fridge: Food inside. Had to leave on urgent business. She slipped out silently, the ring box a heavy secret in her purse.
After a three-hour drive, she stood before the elegant storefront. The owner, after inspecting the certificate, confirmed her expectation: market values had shifted, but he could offer 80% of its last appraisal. Anisa agreed, a wave of relief momentarily dulling the ache of loss. šµ
"You know, we get many customers, but I remember Mr. Zayan well," the owner said casually as he prepared the paperwork. "Are you his sister?"
"No, I'mā" Anisa began, but he continued, lost in reminiscence. š£
"Anyway, his wife loved this stone. He was so particular, had her try it on to check the fit before finalizing the purchase. Such a considerate man."
Anisa's mind stuttered. "Youā¦ met his wife?"
"Oh yes, they came in together. How could I forget her? Lovely womanāso kind and tall, with that curly hair. They made a striking pair." š
Tall. Curly hair. Zahra. The world tilted. So, the ring was bought for her. That's why it was always loose on my finger. The truth, served with such casual cruelty, lodged in her throat.
She betrayed nothing. With a porcelain calm, she accepted the banker's draft, signed the release, and walked out of the cool, air-conditioned store into the blinding sun. š„
Outside, the dam threatened to break. A crushing need to scream, to sob, overwhelmed her. She stumbled towards a deserted alley beside the building, her composure shattering the moment she was hidden from view. She slumped against the rough brick, hot, silent tears finally carving tracks down her cheeks.
The memory surfaced, sharp and accusatory: their last anniversary, the one he had forgotten. Her finding the ring in his drawer. His smooth explanation, his tender presentation of it as her gift. A performance. A lie wrapped in velvet. š£
"He lied to me," she whispered into her trembling hands, the words torn from a place of raw betrayal. "He bought it for her."
She had ignored the signs for so longāthe late nights, the cryptic calls, even the way they were found, hands entangled in the wreckage. She had chosen faith over doubt, love over suspicion. But now, a stranger's innocent recollection had stripped away the last veil. It was no longer a ghost of a possibility; it was a fact, purchased and proven. Zayan had not just betrayed her in life; he had orchestrated a final, posthumous deceit, leaving her to mourn not just a husband, but the very truth of her marriage.š«