MY HUSBAND SOLD MY GRANDMA’S ENGAGEMENT RING FOR CRYPTO
I saw the empty velvet box on the dresser and instantly my stomach dropped into my shoes, cold and heavy. I picked it up, fingers shaking so hard I almost dropped the small velvet box onto the floor. The cheap satin lining felt cool and empty against my trembling fingertips where the heavy diamond should have been resting. A cold dread seized me instantly, tightening in my chest until it was hard to breathe past the sudden fear.
I ran downstairs, heart pounding a frantic, terrified rhythm against my ribs with every step. He was slouched on the couch, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, looking completely oblivious. “Where is it?” I choked out, holding up the empty box.
He didn’t even look up at first, just waved a dismissive hand towards the table. “Out,” he muttered, his eyes still glued to the glowing screen. “Out *where*?” I repeated, louder now, the panic making my voice unbelievably shrill. “You think stealing my grandmother’s irreplaceable engagement ring makes *anything* better?” I finally shouted.
That’s when he finally looked up, his face pale and drawn in the dim room light. He launched into some rambling explanation about volatile crypto futures and ‘temporary liquidity,’ words I couldn’t even follow swirling around me like sickening dust motes caught in the harsh overhead lamp light. He insisted it was a necessary strategic move, promising he would make it back tenfold tomorrow. The shocking weight of the betrayal settled heavy and cold in my gut.
Then he showed me the account balance; it was zero.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*”…tomorrow,” he finished weakly, his voice barely a whisper as he gestured to the phone displaying the empty account. The finality of it, the absolute zero staring back at me, was a physical blow. All the air rushed out of my lungs, leaving me gasping for breath.
“You…you gambled it all?” I managed to choke out, the words catching in my throat like shards of glass. My vision blurred, the room tilting precariously around me. He stood there, looking like a kicked puppy, all the bravado of his ‘strategic move’ evaporated in the face of the stark reality.
I turned away, unable to bear the sight of him. I walked blindly, stumbling towards the back door and out into the garden. The cool evening air stung my face, a welcome shock to my numb senses. I sank onto the damp wooden bench, the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders.
The silence was broken only by the chirping of crickets, a mocking soundtrack to my despair. Years of memories, of family history, of a love story spanning generations, gone. Traded for a fleeting chance at wealth that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
He followed me out, his footsteps hesitant. He stood a few feet away, not daring to approach. “I…I messed up,” he mumbled, his voice laced with shame. “I thought…I really thought I could make it work.”
I didn’t respond, just stared blankly at the wilting roses in the flower bed. What was there to say? “I need some time,” I finally whispered, the words barely audible. “I need time to think.”
He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. He turned and walked back into the house, leaving me alone in the gathering darkness. As the first tears finally welled up and streamed down my face, I knew that the trust we had built, the foundation of our marriage, had been irrevocably shattered. Whether we could rebuild it, whether I could ever forgive him, remained to be seen. But one thing was certain: things would never be the same again.