She didn’t know why she wore the damn thing when she went out. It should have been a private reminder alone, the rest of the world didn’t need to see it, they didn’t need to know what it meant.
But she was no fool. She knew the first time they saw it they knew.
That damn necklace. Curse her a fool once and once more for loving it and him.
Mostly it if the truth was to be known, but since she loved it, it had seemed a good choice to love him as well.
She wondered if she should have the damn thing engraved with the word ‘bought.’ Because that’s what she was. Bought. Sold. Idiot. Dumbass. The list could go on and on.
People always starred at it, snickered behind their hands after she had walked by. They knew, she knew they knew. The whole goddamn world knew. And she just walked around wearing the bit gold and stone that had bought her forgiveness. As if she was oblivious. As if she hadn’t realized as soon as he brought it home what it was for and why.
Well they could all just fall face first into dirt and die.
She needed nice things to get by. Needed jewels and clothes and fancy things. She didn’t need his constant attention and faithfulness. Just his money.  
He didn’t need her love. Just her forgiveness and obliviousness.
So, so what if she had been bribed and bought? So what if her husband didn’t love her like she had thought? So what if when she looked in a mirror a sorrowed and lonely gaze looked back at her? So what if the whole goddamn world knew what a bastard her husband was and what a weak spineless wretch she was?
Money might not buy happiness, but it damn near bought everything else.