Forgery for the Most Cherished One

A Fake for the Most Precious Person

But Ill be the one making your rings, remember that!

Max said it with such confidence and childlike earnestness that Vera couldnt help but laugh.

Max, weve only been together a couple of months, Vera picked up her coffee cup, hiding her smile. What wedding are you even talking about?
Ive seen how he looks at you, Max nodded knowingly. So get ready. And when it comes to ringscome straight to me. Ill make you a masterpiece, promise.

On her way home, Vera thought about how much their friendship meant to her. Max had been by her side for fifteen yearssince university. Fifteen years of mutual support and trust. When Max chose to become a jeweller, Vera was genuinely proud. She watched his workshop grow, his client list expand. His pieces became well-known in town, and Vera often recommended him to friends.

Months later, when Andrew proposed, the choice of wedding rings was obvious. Who else could she trust?

Max pulled up a chair, sat beside her, and they began sketching. Vera pointed out the lines she liked, Max suggested adjustments, refining the design. An hour flew by. Several drafts lay on the table, but one stood outelegant, with intricate, interlacing patterns.

This will look stunning, Max tapped the sketch with his pencil. But its complex work, itll take time. Itll cost extra.

Vera hesitated. Their wedding budget was already stretched thin.

Max, what if I brought in my own gold to melt down? Would that cut the cost?
Of course. If the golds good quality, with the right hallmark, then yeah. Youd just pay for the labour.

Vera remembered her grandmothers jewellery boxa heavy antique bracelet, two chains, a few rings. Shed inherited them but never wore them. Melting them down for 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 among the honoured guests, gave a heartfelt speech. Vera and Andrew exchanged rings. They looked happier than anyone in the world. The patterns intertwined, the gold gleamed, the engraving inside read *Forever*.

The first month of marriage passed in a blur. Vera wore her ring constantly, admiring its beauty. But one morning, she noticed something oddher skin itched beneath the ring. She rubbed her finger, thinking it was soap residue. But the itch didnt fade. By evening, tiny red rashes appeared.

Maybe its an allergy? Andrew suggested.

Vera applied cream and slept without the ring. The rash faded by morningbut the moment she put it back on, the itching returned by lunch. Days later, Andrew complained of the same thing.

This is weird, Vera sat beside him, examining both rings. Why are we both reacting like this?
Maybe the golds dodgy? Andrew frowned. Or the alloys wrong?

Vera didnt want to believe it. Max was her friendhe wouldnt cut corners. But unease gnawed at her. A week later, with symptoms still there, she took the rings for an independent appraisal. Just for peace of mind.

The appraiser examined them under a loupe, weighed them, ran tests. Vera sat in the waiting room, flipping through a magazine but absorbing nothing. Her stomach twisted with dread.

When the appraiser returned, his expression was grim.

Straight to the pointthis isnt 14-carat gold, he placed the results before them. Under a thin layer of gold plating is a cheap nickel-heavy alloy. Thats causing the reaction. The hallmark doesnt match.

Vera stared at the numbers, the graphs, unable to process it.

So these are fakes? Andrew picked up the report, rereading it.
Yes. These rings are worth a tenth of what you paid. Plus, if you provided your own gold for melting, it wasnt used. It was swapped for this alloy.

Vera felt sick. Her grandmothers bracelet, the chains, the ringsall gone. Instead of precious wedding bands, they had cheap costume jewellery.

At home, Vera pored over the report, hoping for a mistake. But the numbers were merciless. Max had cheated them. Stolen their gold, pocketed the difference. And smiled at their wedding, toasted their happiness.

Andrew was furious. They tried contacting Maxbut he avoided them. Had someone tipped him off about the appraisal?
Andrew went to the workshop. Vera stayed home. He returned two hours laterdishevelled, collar torn, a scratch on his cheek.

What happened? Vera jumped up.
He wouldnt admit anything, Andrew poured himself water. First, he said it was a mistake. Then he yelled, accused *us* of bringing fakes. I showed him the reporthe tried to snatch it. Security broke it up.

Vera sank onto a chair.

He filed a report, Andrew sat opposite her. Accused me of assault. Claims I threatened him, started the fight. But thats not true, Vera! You know me!

The next weeks were a nightmare. An administrative case opened. Andrew endured interrogations, hunted for witnesses.
Vera couldnt stay silent. She burned with fury. She found Maxs workshop online and wrote a detailed reviewjust facts. Described the order, their gold, the fake rings with nickel, attached the appraisal. Did the same on social media, local forums.

A day later, her friend Emma messaged:

*Vee, maybe dont escalate this? Youve been friends for years. Cant you sort it quietly?*

*Emma, I told the truth. I have proof.*
*But youre ruining his reputation.*
*He ruined it himself when he scammed his friends.*
Emma didnt reply.

Days later, their group chat exploded. Vera opened her phone to dozens of messages. People shed known for years sided with Max.

*Could the appraisal be wrong? Mistakes happen.*
*Why air this publicly? Cant you handle it privately?*
*So he skimped a bit. Friendships worth more than money.*

Max was the life of their group. He organised meetups, helped everyone with jewellery, gave discounts. No one wanted to lose him.
One by one, friends turned from Vera.

A week later, she was removed from three group chatsno warning, no explanation. She texted Kate, her old uni roommate.

*Kate, whats going on? Why was I kicked?*
*Vee, you know why. Max matters to us. Youre attacking him. We dont want part in it.*
*Im not attacking. I told the truth.*
*To us, it looks like an attack. We dont believe you. Sorry.*

Vera locked her phone, sat on the sofa staring blankly. Fifteen years of friendship. Memories. All shattered.

Her birthday fell in early autumn. Usually, she celebrated bigrented a café, gathered everyone. This year, she sent invites without hope. Out of twenty, three came.
Her closest friend, Marina, sent a cold message the day before.

*Vee, I wont come. I had to choose between you and Max. I chose him. Sorry.*

Vera reread it. No anger, no hurt leftjust emptiness.

Andrews court case dragged on for six months. Security footage showed Max started the fight. He was fined, the case closed.

Trying to press fraud charges failed. Max insisted the rings matched the order, claimed Veras appraisal was biased. Without seizing his stocklong since melted downproof was impossible.

Vera sat on a bench outside the courthouse after the final hearing. Andrew held her hand in silence. Their friends were gone. The jewellery too. The rings sat unused in a box at homefake, worthless.

Lets go home, Andrew stood, offering his hand.

At home, Vera opened the box, held the rings, stared at them. No one would wear them again.

The next day, they visited a simple jewellers. Chose plain bandsno patterns, no engravings, but with certificates and 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. And for now, that was enough.