“Fake for the Most Precious Person”
But Ill be the one making your rings, remember that!
Max said it with such certainty and boyish charm that Vera couldnt help but laugh.
Max, weve only been together a couple of months, Vera picked up her coffee cup, hiding a smile. What wedding are you talking about?
Ive seen how he looks at you, Max nodded knowingly. So be ready. And when it comes to the ringscome straight to me. Ill make a masterpiece, promise.
On her way home, Vera thought about how much their friendship meant. Max had been by her side for fifteen yearssince university. Fifteen years of mutual support and trust. When Max chose the path of a jeweller, Vera was genuinely proud. She watched his workshop grow, his client list expand. His work became well known in London, and Vera often recommended him to friends.
Months later, when Andrew proposed, the question of the wedding rings was already settled. Who else would she trust?
Max pulled up a chair and sat beside her as they sketched designs. Vera pointed out the lines she liked; Max suggested adjustments. An hour flew by. Several rough drafts lay on the table, but one stood outelegant, with intricate patterns.
This will look stunning, Max tapped the sketch with his pencil. But its complex work. Itll take time. The cost will go up.
Vera hesitated. The wedding budget was tight.
Max, what if I bring my own gold to melt down? Would that lower the price?
Of course. If the golds good quality, with the right hallmark, then yes. Youd only pay for the labour.
Vera remembered her grandmothers jewellery boxan old, heavy bracelet, two necklaces, a few rings. She never wore them. Melting them into something meaningful felt right.
Alright. Ill bring the gold, you make the rings. Deal?
Deal. Max shook her hand. Ill make the best work of my life. For the most precious person.
A week later, Vera brought the jewellery box. Max weighed each piece, checked the hallmarks, noted everything down. There was more than enough gold.
The wedding was perfect. Max was a guest of honour, giving a heartfelt speech. Vera and Andrew exchanged rings. No one could have looked happier. The patterns intertwined, the gold gleamed, the engraving inside read *Forever*.
The first month of marriage passed in a blur. Vera wore the ring constantly, admiring its beauty. Then one morning, she noticed something oddher finger itched beneath the band. She rubbed it, thinking it was soap, but the itching didnt stop. By evening, tiny red bumps appeared.
Maybe an allergy? Andrew suggested.
Vera applied cream and slept without the ring. By morning, the rash had faded. But the moment she put it back on, the itching returned. Days later, Andrew complained of the same thing.
This is strange, Vera examined both rings. Why are we both reacting?
Maybe the golds not real? Andrew frowned. Or the alloys off?
Vera didnt want to believe it. Max was her friendhe wouldnt make a mistake. But unease gnawed at her. A week later, with no improvement, she took the rings for an independent appraisal.
The jeweller inspected them under a loupe, weighed them, ran tests. Vera sat in the waiting area, flipping through a magazine but seeing nothing. Her stomach twisted with dread.
When the jeweller returned, his expression was grave.
Straight to the pointthis isnt 14-carat gold, he placed the report in front of them. Under a thin gold plating is a cheap alloy with high nickel content. Thats whats causing the reaction. The hallmark is falsified.
Vera stared at the numbers, the graphs, unable to process it.
So these are fakes? Andrew reread the report.
Yes. Rings like these are worth a tenth of what you paid. And if you provided your own gold, it wasnt used. It was swapped for this alloy.
Vera felt sick. Her grandmothers bracelet, the necklaces, the ringsall gone. In their place, worthless trinkets.
At home, she reread the report, hoping for a mistake. The numbers didnt lie. Max had swindled them. Pocketed the difference. Smiled at their wedding, toasted their happiness.
Andrew was furious. They tried calling Max, but he avoided them. Had someone tipped him off?
Andrew went to the workshop. Vera stayed behind. Two hours later, he returneddishevelled, collar torn, a scratch on his cheek.
What happened? Vera leapt up.
He denied everything, Andrew poured himself water. First said it was a mistake. Then yelled that wed brought in fakes. I showed him the reporthe tried to snatch it. Security broke us apart.
Vera sank onto a chair.
He filed a report, Andrew sat opposite her. Accused me of assault. Said I threatened him. But thats not true, Vera. You know me.
The next weeks were a nightmare. A case was opened. Andrew faced interrogations, gathered witnesses.
Vera couldnt stay silent. Burning with anger, she wrote a detailed reviewfacts only. She described the order, the swapped gold, attached the report. Posted it on Maxs business page, local forums, social media.
A day later, Lena, a friend from their group, messaged her.
*Vera, maybe dont escalate this? Youve been friends for years. Cant you sort it quietly?*
*I wrote the truth. I have proof.*
*But youre ruining his reputation.*
*He ruined it himself, cheating friends.*
Lena didnt reply.
Days later, their group chat erupted. People Vera had known for years sided with Max.
*Maybe the reports wrong?*
*Why air this publicly? Sort it privately.*
*So he skimped a bit. Friendships worth more than money.*
Max was the life of their circleorganising gatherings, offering discounts. No one wanted to lose him.
One by one, friends turned away.
A week later, Vera was removed from three group chatsno explanation. She messaged Kate, her old flatmate.
*Kate, whats happening? Why was I kicked out?*
*You know why. Max matters to us. Youre attacking him. We wont be part of it.*
*Im not attacking. I told the truth.*
*Not how we see it. We dont believe you. Sorry.*
Vera locked her phone, staring blankly. Fifteen years of friendship, memoriesgone.
Her birthday fell in early autumn. Usually, shed hire a pub, invite everyone. This time, out of twenty, only three came.
Her closest friend, Marina, sent a cold message the day before.
*Vera, Im not coming. I had to chooseyou or Max. I chose him. Sorry.*
Vera read it again and again. No anger left. Just emptiness.
Andrews case dragged on for months. Eventually, CCTV showed Max had started the fight. He was fined; the case dropped.
Trying to prosecute him for fraud failed. Max insisted the gold was as ordered, that Veras report was biased. Without seizing his stocklong since melted downproof was impossible.
Outside the courthouse, Vera sat on a bench. Andrew held her hand silently. Their friends were gone. The jewellery too. The rings sat unused in a boxfake, worthless.
Lets go home, Andrew stood, offering his hand.
At home, Vera opened the box, staring at the rings. No one would wear them again.
The next day, they visited a high-street jeweller. Chose plain bandsno patterns, no engravings, but with certificates, receipts.
Shall I wrap them? the assistant asked.
No, thanks. Well wear them now, Vera said.
She looked at her new ring. Simple, clean, untainted by greed.
Her grandmothers gold was lost forever. So was her friendship with Max, with all of them.
But Andrew was beside her.
For now, that was enough.
