4. Maya #2
“I’m so sorry.” She gasps between sobs, leaning into him. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. Maya’s necklace is missing, and she thinks I…” A fresh wave of tears cuts her off.
“She thinks you what?” Oliver’s eyes find mine over Amelia’s head, and they’re hard. Accusing. “Maya? What’s going on?”
“My necklace is missing. The emerald one. I was asking Amelia about it because she cleaned our bedroom this morning.”
“She already told you she didn’t touch it.” His voice sharpens as he rubs Amelia’s back. “What more do you want?”
“I want to know where my necklace is!”
Amelia lifts her head from Oliver’s shoulder. Her tears are already drying, I notice. Her makeup is still perfect, not a smudge or a streak despite the apparent waterworks.
“Maybe you misplaced it,” she offers, voice small and wounded. “Or maybe it fell somewhere. I don’t know. But I promise you, Maya, I didn’t take anything. I would never.”
“I believe you,” Oliver says to her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Maya, can we talk in the other room?”
In the hallway, he rounds on me.
“What the hell was that?”
“I was asking about my missing necklace.”
“You were interrogating a guest in our home. A woman who’s already going through a difficult time, who’s trying her best to help out around here.”
“My necklace is gone, Oliver. The emerald one. I saw it yesterday, and now it’s not there. She was the only one in our bedroom this morning.”
He frowns, but it’s the frown of someone trying to remember something unimportant. “Which necklace?”
“The emerald pendant. On the gold chain. The one you gave me.”
His face is blank. No recognition. No memory of the night he pressed it into my palm and asked me to marry him.
“It was the first gift you ever gave me,” I say quietly, my chest cracking open. “The night you proposed. You said it was proof that you were serious about us.”
His expression shifts, a ghost of memory quickly buried under irritation.
“I’m sure it’s somewhere in the house. You probably moved it and forgot.”
“I didn’t move it. I didn’t forget. I know exactly where it was.”
“Then it’ll turn up. But you can’t go around accusing Amelia of theft just because something went missing.”
“I didn’t accuse her. I asked if she’d seen it. She’s the one who started sobbing the second you walked in.”
“Because you upset her. Because you made her feel like a criminal when she was just trying to help.”
“Oliver…”
“Look, just leave her alone, okay? She’s had a rough time. She doesn’t need you adding to her stress.” He sighs, rubbing his temples. “I’ll help you look for the necklace later. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.”
“And if it’s not?”
“Then I’ll buy you another one.”
“I don’t want another one. I want that one. It’s irreplaceable.”
“What’s so special about it?” He sounds genuinely confused. “It’s just a necklace, Maya.”
The words land like a physical blow.
“It’s just a necklace,” I repeat slowly. “The necklace you gave me the night you proposed. The night you told me I was everything. The night you promised that I would always come first.” My voice cracks despite my best efforts. “That’s ‘just a necklace’ to you?”
He has the grace to look uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?”
Silence.
“Maya, I have work calls. We can talk about this later.”
He walks past me toward his office. I watch him go, frozen in the hallway, my heart pounding with what feels like grief.
He doesn’t remember. After seven years, after everything we’ve been through, he doesn’t remember the necklace or the proposal or any of the promises he made.
Maybe he never did.
That night, long after Oliver has gone to sleep, I slip out of bed and pad down the hallway.
The door to Amelia’s room is cracked open, lamplight spilling into the hall.
I shouldn’t look. I know I shouldn’t look. It’s paranoid, intrusive, exactly the behavior Oliver keeps accusing me of.
But my necklace is missing, and I know exactly who was in our room this morning.
I lean closer to the crack, holding my breath.
Amelia sits at the vanity, brushing her hair in the soft light. She looks peaceful. Content. Like a woman without a care in the world.
And around her throat, catching the light with every stroke of the brush, is a glint of green.
My heart stops.
I press closer to the gap, trying to see more clearly. The pendant hangs in the hollow of her throat. Emerald, gold chain, exactly like mine. Exactly like the necklace that was in my jewelry box yesterday and is now gone.
Then she shifts, adjusting her position on the vanity stool, and her robe falls over the pendant. I can’t see it anymore.
I pull back from the door, heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.
I saw it. I know I saw it.
But it was just a glimpse. Just a flash of green in lamplight. Oliver would say I imagined it. He would say I’m seeing what I want to see, that I’ve already decided she’s guilty so I’m manufacturing evidence.
I don’t sleep at all that night.
In the morning, I find Oliver in his office.
“I saw it,” I tell him, standing in the doorway. “Last night. Through her door. She was wearing my necklace.”
He doesn’t look up from his computer. “What?”
“Amelia. She had my emerald necklace on. I saw it through the crack in her door while she was brushing her hair.”
He sighs heavily, finally meeting my eyes. The look on his face is not concern. It’s not alarm. It’s exhaustion. Like I’m a problem he doesn’t want to deal with.
“Maya. You saw a green stone, through a cracked door, in lamplight. For what, a second? Maybe two?”
“I know what I saw.”
“You saw what you wanted to see. Because you’ve already decided she’s guilty and you’re looking for evidence to confirm it.”
“She had my necklace on her throat!”
“Or she had a green necklace that looked similar. Or you imagined it entirely because you were looking for something to find.” He turns back to his computer, dismissing me. “I think you need to get some rest. This obsession isn’t healthy, Maya.”
Obsession. Like I’m the one with the problem. Like I’m crazy for noticing that my jewelry keeps disappearing and the woman who had access to it is now wearing it.
“You believe her over me.”
“I believe you’re stressed, exhausted, looking for someone to blame.” He starts typing, not looking at me. “The necklace will turn up. Just give it time.”
I stand in the doorway, watching him work. Watching him choose her over me without even realizing he’s doing it.
She’s won. She’s made me look paranoid, jealous, crazy.
And my husband is helping her do it.