One day, Rachel discovered that the box containing the heritage jewels her late mother left her is empty. After hearing her husband’s confession, Rachel learns that’s only half the story. Everything comes together when she sees her mother’s earrings on someone else.
Now
I went to the store for groceries but left with a truth I never expected.
She stood in the dairy aisle—our neighbor, young, blonde, recently divorced. And dangling from her ears were my mother’s earrings.
My stomach twisted. No. No way.
Keeping my voice light, I approached her.
“Mel, hi! Lovely earrings!”
She smiled, touching them like they were the most precious things in the world. They were.
“Oh, thank you, Rachel! They’re a gift from someone special, you know.”
A gift. From someone special. Someone married?
The ground steadied beneath me.
Derek hadn’t just pawned my mother’s jewelry. He had given part of it to his mistress.
Except he hadn’t accounted for one thing.
Me.
Then
I was vacuuming under the bed when I found the box. My heart pounded as I lifted the lid.
Empty.
Only one person knew about this box—Derek. But would he really…? Maybe he had moved them for safekeeping?
“Derek!” I stormed into the living room.
“What, Rachel? It’s too early for this.”
“My mother’s jewelry. Did you take it?”
He frowned, pretending to think.
“No. Maybe the kids took it? You know they love dressing up.”
Something felt off. My kids didn’t even know about that box.
“Nora, Eli, Ava—did any of you take the jewelry from under my bed?”
Nora, my eight-year-old, hesitated.
“I saw Daddy with it,” she admitted. “He said it was a secret. And that he’d buy me a dollhouse if I didn’t tell.”
A sharp rage burned through me.
“Derek, I know you took it. Where is it?”
“Fine, Rachel. I took them. You were so sad after your mom died. I thought a vacation would cheer you up. So, I pawned them and bought us a trip.”
I was speechless.
I turned away, trying to control the rage boiling inside me.
Two months. It had only been two months since she passed, and he was putting a timeline on my grief?
Who had I married?
The next morning, I played the role of the forgiving wife.
“Derek, can I see the pawnshop receipt? Just to make sure we can buy them back.”
He rolled his eyes but handed it over.
I took my kids to the pawnshop. Finding my mother’s jewelry wasn’t difficult, but convincing the owner to return them was.
There was only one piece missing.
The earrings.
The ones hanging from Derek’s mistress’s ears.
I knocked on her door. When she opened it, I held up my mother’s will, a photo of her wearing the set, and the necklace and bracelet I had reclaimed.
Her face paled.
“Rachel… I had no idea,” she whispered. “I thought it was a gift. I didn’t know it was your mother’s.”
Without hesitation, she ran inside, returned with the earrings, and placed them in my hand.
“These don’t belong to me. And honestly, neither does Derek. But he doesn’t belong to you either. Rachel, if it was this easy for him to get with me… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Thank you for saying that, Mel,” I said, turning away.
Later
I walked into Derek’s office, divorce papers in hand.
I placed them on his desk—in front of his boss and coworkers.
Then, I turned and walked away.
He begged, of course.
But I was done.
He had taken the last piece of my mother I had left. He had lied. Betrayed me. Dismissed my grief.
And now? He has nothing. Between alimony and child support, he barely has a penny to his name.
What would you have done?
