My parents brought me home. I became a Koul again, with little fanfare, and almost no guilt. (There had to be some. Look, they are who they are.) All my wedding gold was gifted to me by my side of the family; my mother told me to keep wearing it. “It’s yours,” she said. “It was only ever for you.” I told her when I moved out that I still had the one piece of gold my ex-husband was given from our side of the family, a thin gold chain, from my bua to him years ago. He never wore it; yellow gold looked awful on his pink skin. “So he doesn’t have it?” she asked excitedly. When I confirmed, she
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