I froze. Blue face. Silver bracelet.
I picked it up with shaking hands and turned it over: ‘Always your home. S.’
Five years after my husband disappeared, his anniversary gift had fallen out of my neighbor’s garbage.
“Evelyn, why do you have my husband’s watch?”
Her face went white. “Give me that! It’s none of your business!”
She snatched the watch, stuffed everything into the bag, and hurried home.
That evening, a moving truck appeared outside her house.
“Leaving already?” I confronted her on the curb. “Explain Garrett’s watch.”
“I bought it secondhand!” she lied.
“With my engraving? Were you having an affair with him?”
“Absolutely not!” Her expression hardened. “Your husband wasn’t worth the trouble he caused.”
She disappeared inside her house, refusing to say another word.
That afternoon, I received a text from an unfamiliar number.
Unknown: My mother told me what happened. We should talk.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Brenda. Garrett’s wife.
I read it three times, then called immediately.
“His what?” I asked.
A woman sighed. “His wife. Well, technically we’re separated. I’m Evelyn’s daughter.”
Brenda met me at a coffee shop Monday afternoon.
“How long have you known about me?” I asked, gripping my coffee cup.
“Mom told me everything after she moved out,” Brenda explained. “Turns out, Garrett had her spying on you for years.”
“What?”
“Garrett had my mother keep tabs on you to make sure Liam was happy so he could pretend he hadn’t hurt him. He even paid my mom’s rent.”
I remembered all of Evelyn’s intrusive questions over the years.
“Why was your mother throwing away his belongings?” I asked.
Brenda’s face changed. “Because Garrett left me two months ago. He said he needed space. Now he’s engaged to someone else named Valerie.”
I found Garrett’s public engagement announcement online. Beside him was a woman wearing a sparkling ring.
I looked at Brenda. “Neither of our kids deserves this.”
“What are you suggesting?” Brenda asked.
“That Garrett finally takes responsibility for child support and his unpaid debts.”
Brenda smiled. “That’s going to ruin his Thursday.”
On Thursday, Brenda and I met Garrett at an upscale restaurant under the guise of discussing her divorce.
Garrett arrived ten minutes late. “Brenda, sweetheart, I’ve been thinking—”
Then he noticed me. “Samantha?”
“Hello, Garrett.”
He looked between us. “What’s going on?”
Brenda smiled. “Surprise. Your past and present finally met.”
Garrett’s face reddened. “Is this some kind of joke?”
I opened my folder. “Liam is eleven now. Five years without support, Garrett. My lawyer is reviewing what you owe.”
