My quiet, predictable life with Michael shattered the day he filed for divorce, right after my grandfather passed away. It was out of the blue, with no warning, no fights, no explanations. One day, we were married; the next, he was gone. I didn’t argue. I didn’t beg. I simply let him go. Sometimes, people fall out of love, right?
At least, that’s what I told myself.
For a whole month, I didn’t see him. Until one random weekday, in the most unexpected place—a supermarket parking lot—my entire world turned upside down again.
I was pushing my cart toward my car when something caught my eye. A gleaming white sports car parked between two beat-up sedans. It was pristine, the kind of vehicle that screamed money. My brow furrowed as I tried to place the logo. Where had I seen it before?
Then, the driver’s door swung open, and my heart stopped.
Michael.
But not the Michael I had been married to for twelve years. My Michael wore wrinkled khakis from the clearance rack and T-shirts that had seen better days. He worked six days a week as a grocery store cashier, barely making above minimum wage. That was the man I knew, the man I had loved.
The man standing before me was a stranger.
He was dressed in an expensive designer suit, a watch that looked suspiciously like a Rolex glinting on his wrist. His hair was styled, not the messy mop he used to run his fingers through absentmindedly.
Where did he get all this money?
Something propelled me forward, abandoning my cart as I marched toward him. “Michael?”
For a brief second, something flickered in his eyes—guilt?—but then it was gone, replaced by cold indifference.
“Oh. Katherine.” He barely glanced at me as he adjusted his cuffs.
I took a deep breath. “Wow. This must be the car you’ve always dreamed about. Looks like life’s been treating you well. Did you get a new job?”
He sighed dramatically, as if even speaking to me was an inconvenience. “Katherine, we’re not together anymore. My life isn’t your business.”
Then, as if remembering something, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp $100 bill. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it at me. The wind carried it down to the asphalt at my feet.
“There. Think of it as a parting gift.”
I stared at the money, my jaw tightening. Was he serious? He had always earned less than me. I was a veterinarian, and he was a cashier. I had never cared about money, never made him feel lesser because of it. But now he was throwing money at me like I was some beggar in the street?
“Really?” My voice rose, anger bubbling up. “This is who you are now?”
Michael just smirked and walked past me into the store, completely unfazed.
I was about to storm off, to leave him and his arrogance behind, but something made me pick up the bill. And that’s when I saw it.
A tiny smiley face, drawn in blue ink.
My stomach dropped.
Memories came flooding back—
Grandpa’s frail but firm voice as he pulled out stacks of hundred-dollar bills from his desk drawer.
“Katherine, take this money. Use it for your future. Open your own clinic, buy a house, do something that makes you happy.”
I had laughed, shaking my head. “Grandpa, I don’t need this. I’d rather you donate it to charity.”
He sighed. “I just want you to be secure, sweetheart.”
Grinning, I grabbed a bill and a pen from his desk, doodling a little smiley face on it. “Then don’t worry about me. See? Be happy.”
He had chuckled, shaking his head. Two weeks later, he was gone. And I had assumed all his money had gone to charities and family members.
So why did Michael have this bill?
Harrison’s office was sleek and intimidating, sitting high above the city skyline. My grandfather’s best friend and business partner, he was the closest thing to family I had left.
“Katherine!” he greeted warmly, but his smile faltered when he saw my expression. “What’s wrong?”
I placed the bill on his desk. “Did Grandpa ever mention giving money to anyone?”
Harrison studied the bill before removing his glasses with a sigh. “He said you didn’t want it. And… he did mention Michael. He thought giving him the money would make your life better.”
I sucked in a breath. “That’s why he left me. He used Grandpa’s death as an opportunity to get rich and run.”
Harrison watched me carefully. “Do you want to do something about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you want him to keep that money?”
A slow, determined smile spread across my face. “No. I don’t.”
Logan was the best lawyer in the business, and he didn’t waste time.
“Classic fraud by deception,” he said after I told him everything. “We’ll hit him with a lawsuit, but first…” He smirked. “Let’s pay him a visit.”
Michael’s luxury apartment was all marble floors and chandeliers. When he opened the door in silk pajamas, his face paled at the sight of us.
“Who’s this?” he asked, eyeing Logan.
“My attorney,” I said sweetly.
Logan stepped forward. “You received money under false pretenses. That’s fraud. We have a witness, and we’re prepared to sue. You can fight it in court or return the money voluntarily.”
Michael scoffed. “You can’t prove anything.”
“Oh, we will.” Logan’s tone was ice. “And considering the money’s nearly gone, you’ll be in debt. Are you willing to risk that?”
Michael swallowed, glancing at his expensive apartment, his car keys on the counter. The realization hit him hard.
His shoulders sagged. “Fine. I’ll sell everything. You’ll get the money back.”
Logan smirked. “Every. Last. Penny.”
A year later, I stood in my own veterinary clinic, the one Grandpa had always dreamed I’d have. Harrison was there with his dog, beaming with pride.
And Logan? He was by my side.
One day, he walked into my clinic and asked me to dinner. Two years later, I walked down the aisle to marry him.
And though he doesn’t know it, I still keep a special $100 bill in my wallet—the one with the tiny smiley face. The bill that led me to justice… and to the love of my life.
