Cleaning the attic was supposed to be just another chore until my husband exploded, thinking I’d tossed out his old jacket. That jacket turned out to be the key to uncovering secrets he had been hiding from me. And it led to a shocking twist in my life I could never have imagined!
On a crisp fall afternoon, I finally decided to tackle the attic. For years, it had become a dumping ground for everything—from holiday decorations to old clothes that hadn’t seen the light of day in ages. I’d been saying I would clean it out for so long, but what I discovered in that attic changed everything and turned me into a single woman after years of marriage.
Cleaning the attic was always getting pushed aside. My husband, Jeff, often said most of the stuff up there was junk anyway. Just last year, he had told me his old high school jacket, hidden among the clutter, should go straight to the dump.
With that in mind, I started pulling things out one by one: a broken lamp, boxes filled with our now-grown kids’ school projects, and, of course, Jeff’s old jacket. I hardly even looked at it before tossing it into the pile meant for the dump.
The jacket was faded, torn in several places, and smelled like it had been locked away in a musty attic for years. Not exactly something I wanted to keep!
That evening, we sat down for dinner—a typical weeknight meal where we barely had time to talk before cleaning up and moving on. The air smelled like roasted chicken, but Jeff, my husband of twenty years, was strangely quiet.
He poked at his food for a while before I decided to break the silence.
“I cleaned out the attic today,” I said casually, trying to lighten the mood. “Threw out a bunch of our old junk.”
Suddenly, Jeff froze. His fork stopped mid-air, and he dropped it onto the plate with a loud clatter.
“What JUNK?” he asked, his voice sharp, eyes wide as if I’d just told him the house was on fire.
“Just some old stuff from the attic. Why?” I tried to keep my tone light, but something in his expression made me uneasy.
Without a word, Jeff pushed back his chair, nearly knocking it over as he rushed upstairs. I stood there, confused by his sudden panic. I heard him rummaging through boxes, muttering under his breath.
Moments later, he stormed back downstairs, fists clenched tightly at his sides.
“Where’s my old school jacket?” His voice was dangerously low, filled with an intensity I had never heard before. He looked like he might punch a wall!
I blinked, trying to figure out why he cared so much.
“I probably tossed it,” I said. “It was in the pile for the dump.”
I watched as the color drained from his face, and I could almost see his heart racing!
“You THREW it away?” he growled, his voice shaking with barely-contained anger. “I told you to throw away the junk, not that jacket!”
I stood there, completely taken aback. “Jeff, last year you said that jacket was trash! You literally said it belonged in the dump!”
He let out a bitter laugh that sent chills down my spine.
“Well, guess what? The day I married YOU was a curse!”
His words hit me like a punch in the gut! Before I could respond, he stormed out of the house, grabbed his car keys, and sped off down the driveway.
I was too shocked to move at first! But then something told me to follow him. Grabbing my purse, I jumped into my car and raced after him, my heart pounding. Where could he possibly be going in such a rage?
When I saw him pull into the local dump, everything started to click into place!
The jacket. He was here to find that old jacket. But why? There had to be more to it than just nostalgia. And what did he mean that marrying me was a “curse”?
I parked and hurried after him, catching sight of my husband frantically searching through piles of trash. I had never seen him like this before—so tense, so wild! My heart raced as I approached him.
“Jeff, what is going on? Why are you doing this?” I demanded, my voice trembling.
He stopped digging and turned to face me, his face pale.
“Because, Stacy,” he spat, “I was saving money. Fifty thousand dollars. For us… to buy a new house.”
I took a step back, trying to process what he was saying. Fifty thousand? In an old, ratty jacket?
His words echoed in my head. “For US.” But I didn’t believe him. Something felt very wrong.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I didn’t think I had to!” he snapped, returning to his desperate search. “I was going to surprise you. Now it’s all gone BECAUSE of you!”
Back then, I had no idea what he was really doing behind my back and that there was more to the money he’d saved!
I went along with his lie.
I watched him sift through heaps of trash, his hands dirty, and something twisted inside me. Despite desperately wanting to trust him, his story didn’t add up. But I couldn’t figure out why. We never found the jacket that night. After hours of searching, Jeff slumped down in defeat.
He wouldn’t even look at me.
We drove home in separate cars, and I sat in silence, my mind racing with thoughts about Jeff’s actions and words. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply off. When we got home, Jeff went straight to the bedroom without saying a word.
I sat on the couch, staring at the wall, my mind spinning. What was so special about that jacket? Why was he acting this way? Was there really money in that jacket?
An hour passed, and I heard my husband’s voice, low and hushed, from the bedroom. I crept up to the door, leaning close enough to hear his words through the thin walls.
“I don’t have the money anymore,” Jeff was saying. “That useless woman threw it out with the jacket!”
My breath caught in my throat…
“No, I wasn’t saving it for me and her,” he continued. “It was for the house… for US, like we said.”
My blood turned to ice. “US?” He wasn’t talking about me. He was talking about someone else!
I pushed open the door, unable to hold back my anger any longer!
“WHO are you talking to, Jeff?”
His face went pale as he turned to face me, phone still in hand. “Stacy… I…”
“No,” I interrupted, “Who were you going to buy a house with?”
He didn’t answer, just stared at me, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
But I didn’t NEED him to answer. I already knew. There was someone else. Someone who had been waiting for that fifty thousand dollars.
“I’m filing for divorce,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “The kids and everyone will find out the truth about who you really are. You called me useless to your mistress, Jeff…”
It was the only thing that made sense now.
Jeff’s face twisted in anger, but I didn’t stick around to hear his excuses. I walked out and didn’t look back.
A month after the divorce, I found myself back in the attic since I had won the house in our filing. The chaos of the last few weeks kept me from returning, but I needed to grab my old sewing machine for a project I wanted to start.
As I sifted through boxes, my hand brushed against something soft… something familiar.
There, at the bottom of a box I had somehow missed, was Jeff’s old jacket.
I froze, pulling it out and staring at it in disbelief. I hadn’t thrown it away after all!
With trembling hands, I checked the inside pocket, and there it was… the fifty thousand dollars, neatly folded, exactly where he had hidden it!
But this time, there was no rush to tell anyone. No need to share. Jeff had made his choices, and now I was making mine. I kept the money, my heart racing at the thought of what it meant for my future.
This time, it was my secret to keep…
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