Rachel held dear the heirloom jewelry her late mother left behind, until one fateful day when she discovered the box holding them was empty. After an unexpected confession from her husband, Rachel realized this was only half of the truth. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw her mother’s earrings being worn by another woman, and suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle began to fit.
It was a regular morning shopping trip. I headed to the store for milk, chicken, and raspberries—a peculiar mix, but it was exactly what I needed. The milk for my morning coffee and cereal, chicken for tonight’s dinner, and raspberries for the white chocolate and raspberry muffins my husband adored.
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I entered the store with purpose, dreaming of getting back to my packed schedule, unaware that a revelation awaited me.
There she was, standing at the dairy section—it was our neighbor. Young, blonde, and freshly divorced. She was inspecting various yogurt options, her carefree smile suggesting she didn’t have a worry in the world. And frankly, she might not have had any.
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But there, dangling from her ears, were my mother’s earrings.
I felt my breath catch, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. My fingers tightened around the shopping basket, squeezing it so hard I feared my knuckles would turn white.
This can’t be real.
I forced my voice to sound casual as I approached her.
“Mel, hi! What lovely earrings!”
She beamed at me, casually touching them as if they were the most prized possession. They were.
“Oh, thank you, Rachel! They were a gift from someone special, you know.”
A gift. From someone special indeed. Someone married?
The world began to spin. I swallowed down the rage that threatened to engulf me. Mel looked at me for a moment, and I wondered whether guilt gnawed at her. It didn’t seem so, but something dimmed the sparkle in her eyes momentarily.
“They are simply gorgeous,” I said, smiling with clenched teeth. “But didn’t they come with a matching pendant and bracelet? What a stunning set that would be…”
She blinked at me with confusion shadowing her face.
“Oh, well, I hadn’t heard of those. But I just have the earrings. But maybe my special person will surprise me with the whole set.”
The ground steadied beneath me.
That was it.
Derek hadn’t merely pawned off my mother’s jewelry. He gave part of it to his mistress.
A cunningly crafted plan, but…
He didn’t factor in one critical detail.
Me.
Discovery at Home
While tidying up under the bed, lost in the monotony of my chores and the annoying carol stuck in my head, I came across the box.
Something made me stop. Perhaps instinct, or maybe a sense of grief finely tuning my senses.
I bent down, picked it up, and lifted the lid.
Empty. The box that held my most cherished possessions was empty.
The air left my lungs. The pettish carol was expelled from my mind as the shock slapped me across the face.
My hands trembled as I stood, knees feeling as if they were going to give way. I scanned my bedroom as if the earrings, pendant, and bracelet would magically reappear in front of my eyes.
But they didn’t. Of course not. Positive thinking doesn’t work that way.
There was only one person to whom I had shown that box and what lay inside. But would Derek… Could he really take them? Perhaps he had placed them somewhere else, knowing their significance to me.
Maybe in our bank safe. But even if he had, why on earth wouldn’t he tell me?
“Derek!” I stormed into the living room, where he was relaxing with his laptop.
He barely looked up.
“What, Rachel? It’s too early for this kind of racket.”
“My mother’s jewelry. Did you take it?”
He quirked an eyebrow, as though considering seriously.
“No, maybe the kids took them. You know they’re at that age where they dress up and play.”
My stomach twisted again. Why would my kids take anything from my room? Probably, they didn’t even know about the box. Regardless, I intended to leave the jewelry to my daughters eventually.
But still, kids have sharp eyes. Perhaps one of them had noticed something.
I turned and went straight to the playroom, where my three kids were sprawled on the floor, engrossed in their toys.
“Nora, Eli, Ava,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “Did any of you take the box from under my bed?”
Three innocent pairs of eyes turned towards me.
“No, mommy.”
But Nora hesitated. My eight-year-old, the eldest, and the most intuitive and honest of the three, always ready to offer a hug when one needed it.
She was going to tell me what she knew.
“I saw daddy with it,” she declared. “He said it was a secret, and he’d buy me a new dollhouse if I kept quiet.”
Sharp anger pierced me.
Someone had stolen from me.
And that someone was my husband.
I spent time with the kids, trying to clear my thoughts and feelings while they played. Eventually, I had no choice but to confront him.
“Derek, I know you took them. Where are they?” I demanded.
He sighed theatrically, rubbing his temples, as though I were the problem here.
“Okay, Rachel. I did take them.”
I blinked slowly.
“Why?” I queried simply.
His voice took on that tone I detested. Condescendingly slow and deliberate, it always set my teeth on edge.
“You were so distraught after your mother’s death. I thought a vacation might lift your spirits, Rachel.” He lifted a beer can and took a long swig. “So, I pawned them off and booked us a holiday.”
My fists clenched tightly. My vision blurred. I was… stunned.
“You pawned my mother’s jewelry?! My deceased mother’s possessions!”
“Rachel, we’re in a tight spot! Don’t you get it? Or are you choosing to ignore it? The mortgage, the bills… I was just trying to do something nice for you and the kids.”
Raging fury consumed me. I was ready to explode.
“Where. Are. They?” I shouted. “You had no right to do this without asking me, Derek! Return them. Now!”
He sighed dramatically.
“Fine, I’ll return the tickets. I’ll sort it out if you want everyone to be as miserable as you. Seriously, Rachel, the kids see this. It’s awful.”
I turned around without another word, before I did something I’d regret.
Unhappy? Of course, I was unhappy. I was in mourning. I was hurting. My heart felt shattered and trampled on, and my mind was a graveyard of memories.
My mother had passed away. And with her went my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the person who loved me more than anyone else in the world.
It had only been two months without her. And this man was putting a time limit on my grief?
What on earth? Who had I married?
I missed her so much. And that’s why Derek’s actions hurt so much. My mother’s jewelry was like a lifeline she had left for me. It was something tangible, something I could hold or wear when I needed her touch…
I remember how she wouldn’t want me to become a stay-at-home mom.
“Honey,” she said one day, smearing homemade bread with butter. “You have so much potential. While being a stay-at-home mom is rewarding, are you sure it’s what you want?”
“I don’t know, Mom,” I had confessed. “But Derek says we can’t afford a nanny, so I either become the nanny or pay for one.”
“Promise me one thing, Rachel,” she said. “Keep writing your poems, my love. Keep that side of you alive.”
Her words pierced my heart.
But you know what?
The following day, while shopping, I discovered the truth was even worse.
The Unveiling Continues
I smiled at Mel in the store, pretending to listen to her chatter about Greek yogurt and chia seeds for breakfast.
“It’s really the best breakfast, Rachel. Cleanses your insides and gives you more protein than eggs. Add a bit of honey or chocolate chips, my dear. Trust me,” she prattled on, as if trying not to think or say something that might betray her.
I smiled as if I wasn’t just steps away from grabbing those earrings off her ears.
She had no idea. Not a clue that she had been part of my husband’s betrayal. Or maybe she did? The way she behaved suggested she didn’t grasp the significance of this gesture. In her eyes, she stood in front of her lover’s wife wearing the expensive gift he had given.
And so, I made a decision.
I was going to reclaim what was mine.
And I was going to make Derek pay.
Truly.
The next morning, I played the part of the forgiving wife.
I kept to myself, mentally reciting Shakespearean sonnets. I made pancakes for the kids. I prepared French toast for Derek. But I couldn’t shake from my mind the earlier encounter with Mel.
He seemed relieved, perhaps overly confident. I’m sure he imagined I had slept on it and let everything go.
“It’s nice to see you so chipper, Rach,” he said. “You know I love that smile of yours.”
I wanted to slap him.
Focus on Shakespeare, Rach, I reminded myself silently.
“Derek, can you show me the pawn ticket?” I asked, framing it as though I just wanted to ensure everything could be redeemed.
He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, but he eventually gave it to me.
“Nora,” I called her, watching her savor her pancakes. “Do you want to come with mama today? We’re going to look for grandma’s jewelry.”
“Yes!” she chirped enthusiastically.
I wasn’t sure about taking my child to a pawn shop, but, honestly, that little girl was the only thing that could soothe me.
We dressed up and got to the pawn shop.
“Are we buying the jewelry, mommy?” Nora asked.
“Yes, for sure, my darling,” I assured her.
And just like that, we walked in and located my mother’s jewelry. It wasn’t difficult, but I had to convince the proprietor they were mine.
“It would’ve made a lovely anniversary gift for my wife,” he said. “But you look ready to cry your heart out.”
“They’re my mother’s, sir,” I explained earnestly. “Please.”
I think he was more startled by the ‘sir’ than anything else, handing over the jewelry without trying to exploit the price.
I kept the receipt. For later.
Only one item remained.
The earrings.
The ones Derek’s mistress had worn.
I knocked on her door, and when she opened it, I showed her my mother’s will, clearly stating the jewelry belonged to me. I even had a photo of her wearing the set at her wedding.
Then, I showed her the necklace and bracelet I had retrieved.
“These are part of a set,” I stated. “They are family heirlooms, and I need the earrings back. They weren’t for Derek to give.”
Her face went pale, her mouth falling open.
“Rachel… I had no idea,” she stammered. “I thought they were a gift from Derek. I didn’t know they were yours! I didn’t know they were your… mother’s.”
Her gaze lowered, a change coming over her expression. Disappointment. Then realization.
“I should have known,” she murmured. “I thought it was a sweet and romantic gesture… but,” she trailed off, shaking her head.
Then, without another word, she went inside, returned with the earrings, and placed them in my hand.
“Take them,” she said. “These don’t belong to me. And, honestly, they don’t belong to Derek, either. But neither does he belong to you, Rachel. If it was so easy for him to…”
I understood her meaning. Clear as day.
“Hell hath no fury…” I began. “I know. I’ll handle it.”
“Rachel, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Derek gave me the attention I was craving. The divorce… took a part of me when it was over. I didn’t know who I was without my husband—or rather, my ex-husband. Derek won me over and made me feel normal again. I’m so sorry.”
I looked at her and smiled. I understood what it meant to have a part missing, but mine came from death and grief, not infidelity.
“Thank you for saying that, Mel,” I said, turning away.
Later
I waited until he returned from work and the divorce papers were finalized.
Then I took the divorce papers to his office and served them in front of his boss and colleagues.
“You shouldn’t have given away what’s mine, Derek. Really, you gave away my mother’s earrings to your mistress?” My voice rose higher than expected. “You robbed me. You betrayed me. And this is the last wrong you can do in our marriage. This isn’t fixable. I don’t want you.”
Then I turned on my heel and left.
He pleaded, of course.
But I was already set in my decision.
He had taken the last piece of my mother that remained. He lied to me. He ignored my pain. And he betrayed our family.
And now? That man has nothing left. Between alimony and child support, he has almost nothing left.
What would you have done?
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