I was just doing the damn laundry. That’s all it was supposed to be. But when I reached into Dale’s old brown jacket and found a perfectly wrapped gift, my gut twisted into knots.
A sleek perfume bottle. Expensive. Feminine.
And not my scent.
My birthday had passed. Our anniversary wasn’t for months. There was no reason for Dale to have this. So who was it for?
Laundry wasn’t my favorite chore, but if I didn’t do it, no one would. Every week, the same routine: pick up the mess Dale left scattered around the house, sort through the piles, and get to work.
I moved through the rooms, collecting socks from under the couch, jeans from the hallway, and then my eyes landed on his old brown jacket draped over the chair.
That jacket.
The one he never let me wash.
I frowned, hesitating. The thing was worn at the elbows, soft from years of use. It smelled like him—like faded cologne and the cigarettes he swore he only smoked when he was stressed.
I lifted it, ready to toss it into the laundry basket, but something inside made a soft thud.
I stopped. Patted the fabric. There it was again—a small, firm shape in the pocket.
I’m not a snoop. At least, I wasn’t before. But something about the weight of it, the way it sat heavy in my hand, made my stomach tighten.
I reached in, fingers curling around a smooth, neat package.
A small, perfectly wrapped box.
I turned it over, my heartbeat picking up. The paper was smooth, with a neat little ribbon tied on top. The kind of wrapping that took effort. Thought.
Dale was not a man of extra effort.
My birthday was last week. He had already given me a necklace—nothing fancy, but sweet. There were no upcoming holidays or anniversaries that explained why this was hidden away.
My thumb ran along the ribbon, my hands moving before my brain could catch up. The ribbon slid off easily. The paper peeled back in a whisper.
A sleek perfume bottle gleamed up at me.
I lifted it, turned it over, and spritzed a tiny bit on my wrist. The scent was floral, light, sophisticated.
Not my scent.
Not even close.
My fingers tightened around the bottle.
If it wasn’t for me… who the hell was it for?
I set the perfume bottle in the center of the counter, right where Dale couldn’t miss it. Every time I walked by, my eyes landed on that sleek glass, and my stomach clenched.
All day, I ran through possible explanations.
Maybe he had bought it for me and forgot. Maybe he was planning a surprise, and I had just ruined it.
But none of it felt right.
Dale wasn’t the “extra gift” kind of guy. He barely remembered to wrap the ones he did give me. The idea that he had been tucking something away for later, planning a romantic gesture? That wasn’t him.
The door creaked open, and Dale stepped inside, stretching like a man ready to relax. He kicked off his boots, ran a hand through his hair.
“Hey, babe.”
I didn’t answer. Just picked up the perfume bottle and held it up.
“This was in your jacket.”
His eyes flicked to it for a second. “Huh?”
I took a step closer. “This. The perfume. Want to explain?”
His shoulders stiffened—just for a second. A quick dart of his eyes before he covered it up with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh, that? It’s for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah,” he said, too quickly. “Meant to give it to you for your birthday, but I figured I’d wait. Y’know, surprise you later.”
I studied him. The way he shifted, like he wanted to step away. Like he wanted this conversation over.
Dale wasn’t a liar. Not really. But I knew when he was bending the truth.
This felt stretched.
I kept my face neutral. If I pushed too hard, he’d turn it back on me. Why was I snooping? Why didn’t I trust him?
So I took a breath, set the bottle back on the counter, and nodded.
“Fine,” I said.
I let it go.
At least, I pretended to.
Claire breezed through my front door like she owned the place, as she always did.
No knock, no warning—just the jingling of keys and the thud of her purse hitting the counter.
“Hey, sis,” she called, kicking off her shoes. “Got any coffee?”
I sighed. Claire had been making herself at home since she moved back to town, and at this point, I was used to it.
She flopped onto the couch, stretching across the cushions.
“You should start paying rent,” I muttered, grabbing two mugs.
“Pfft. Consider my presence a gift.”
I rolled my eyes, pouring the coffee. Just as I was about to hand her a cup, she gasped.
“Oh my God!” Claire’s voice was high with excitement.
I turned.
She was holding it.
The perfume bottle.
“Is that Chéri Élégance?” she asked, practically bouncing in her seat.
I forced my voice to stay even. “Yeah. Why?”
Claire’s eyes lit up. “I love this scent! I’ve been dreaming about it forever.”
She turned the bottle over in her hands, admiring it.
My stomach twisted.
I set the mugs down. “Where’d you get it?” she asked, still grinning.
I hesitated. Just for a second.
“Dale gave it to me,” I said, my voice steady.
Claire’s face lit up even more.
“No way! That’s wild—he was asking me about perfumes the other day. Like, really asking. I thought he was just making conversation, but—”
I stopped hearing her after that.
Dale had been asking her about perfumes.
And she loved this one.
Claire’s birthday was in two weeks.
I looked at her, still chatting away, oblivious to the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut.
And suddenly, I knew.
I smiled.
“You know what? You should have it.”
Claire blinked. “Wait, what?”
I nodded. “It’s not my style. But if you love it…”
She hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, Dale got it for you.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, you’re obsessed with it.”
Claire’s smile stayed, but her eyes sharpened. She knew me too well.
I picked up my coffee. “In fact, why don’t you stay for dinner?”
A pause.
Then, realization.
Claire’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.
“Oh,” she said, voice dripping with anticipation. “This is gonna be good.”
