With only a week left until the engagement party, I had meticulously planned every single detail. The decorations, the food, the reception hall, the guest list, the dresses, the gifts, and even the cake—*everything* had been organized and paid for by my family and me.
Muk’s family had contributed *nothing*.
Not a single penny.
Not a single helping hand.
Not even the courtesy of showing up for moral support.
It was all on me.
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Today was supposed to be the day I shopped for my engagement gold. It should have been a special moment—a cherished tradition where the groom’s family gifts the bride her jewelry as a symbol of love and commitment.
But in my case, it was nothing more than another humiliation.
Instead of being gifted my gold, I was buying it myself—with my own *Mahr
