I FOUND AN UNOPENED BIRTHDAY CARD FROM JULIA TUCKED IN HIS GLOVE BOX
My fingers brushed against the small envelope hidden under the worn registration papers. Dust motes danced in the afternoon sun hitting the dashboard, highlighting the tremor in my hand. I recognized the delicate handwriting instantly, even before I pulled it fully out. It was Julia’s, addressed to *him*.
An unopened birthday card. His birthday was three months ago. Why was it here now, tucked away like this? My breath hitched in my throat, a tight knot forming, a familiar dread coiling in my stomach.
I pulled out the blank card, the heavy paper feeling cold between my fingers. It wasn’t just a card; it felt like concrete proof of a betrayal he promised had ended. “You’re still doing this?” I whispered to the empty car, the words catching in my dry throat, thick with disbelief. This wasn’t just a forgotten item; it was hidden.
The silence of the garage felt deafening around me, amplifying the frantic pounding of my own heart. I squeezed the card until the corners bent sharply, the crisp paper now soft and mangled in my grip. It was a confirmation of a lingering connection he swore was cut off completely months ago, a secret tucked away.
Then my phone screen lit up showing *her* name flashing for an incoming call.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*My hand jerked, the card slipping slightly as Julia’s name burned on the screen. It was like the universe itself was confirming my worst fears, twisting the knife deeper. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Did she know I was here? Was this some twisted follow-up to the hidden card? I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I stared at the phone, then at the bent card in my hand, then back at the ringing phone until it went silent. A text notification immediately popped up. *“Hey, haven’t heard from you. Can you call me back? Need to ask you something important.”* It wasn’t addressed to him. It was addressed to *me*.
Confusion warring with the cold dread, I read the text again. *Me?* Why was Julia calling *me*? And why now, moments after I found this? The carefully constructed narrative of simple betrayal began to crumble around the edges, replaced by a dizzying uncertainty. I tucked the card back into the envelope, my fingers tracing the delicate handwriting that now felt less like a clear sign of infidelity and more like a question mark. What did she need to ask *me*?
The garage door creaked open, and his car pulled in. I shoved the envelope into my pocket, trying to smooth the frantic lines on my face before he saw me. He stepped out, briefcase in hand, offering a tired smile. “Hey, you’re home early.”
“I was just… getting something from the car,” I managed, my voice sounding strangely flat.
He nodded, heading towards the house door. “Rough day. Ordered pizza, should be here soon.”
My feet felt rooted to the spot. The card felt heavy in my pocket, a secret I now held, but whose secret was it? Julia’s? His? Mine now? I followed him inside, the mundane sounds of keys dropping on the counter and the TV turning on feeling unreal. I had to know. I couldn’t just let this fester.
“Who was that calling?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my effort to keep it steady. He was loosening his tie, not looking at me.
“Who?”
“My phone. Just now. Julia.”
He froze, his hand still on his tie. He slowly turned to face me, his eyes searching mine. The tired smile was gone, replaced by a guarded expression I knew all too well. “Oh. Uh, I don’t know. Did she leave a message?”
It was the hesitation, the slight shift in his posture, the way he avoided my gaze that confirmed it wasn’t innocent, not entirely. But was it what I thought? “She sent a text. Said she needed to ask me something important. Why would Julia be calling *me*?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I… I can explain.”
My stomach plummeted. “Explain what? The card? Tucked away like that? For three months?” I pulled the envelope from my pocket, holding it out. He flinched as if I’d pulled out a weapon.
“Okay, yes. The card. It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated?” The word was a bitter taste in my mouth. “Was she still giving you birthday cards after you promised it was over?”
He shook his head frantically. “No! God, no. Please, just… let me talk. She sent it to the office. It came after… after we had that talk. She wrote it before, I guess, and just sent it. I didn’t open it. I didn’t want to open it. I put it in the glove box because I didn’t know what else to do with it. I didn’t want you to see it, because I knew it would look like this, but I didn’t want to just… throw it away either. It felt… final, I guess. Like really closing the door. I just… forgot it was there.”
“You *forgot* an unopened birthday card from the woman you had an affair with, tucked away in your car?” My voice was dangerously low. It sounded flimsy, a desperate excuse.
“Yes! I know how it sounds. But it’s the truth. I swear. I haven’t spoken to her, haven’t seen her. Not since that day.” He looked genuinely distressed, his eyes pleading. “And the call… I have no idea why she’d call *you*.”
Just then, the doorbell rang – the pizza. The mundane interruption felt like a cruel joke. He hesitated, looking between me and the door.
“Go get it,” I said, my voice flat. “We’re not done talking.”
While he was at the door, my phone lit up again. Another text from Julia. *“It’s about [His Name]. Something happened, and I didn’t know who else to tell. Please call me back.”*
My blood ran cold. “Something happened”? What did that mean? The carefully constructed narrative shifted again. Was the card just… a card? Was Julia calling because of something else entirely, something that involved him but wasn’t about a rekindled affair?
He came back with the pizza box, setting it on the counter. “What is it?” he asked, seeing my face.
I looked at him, then at my phone, the text from Julia stark on the screen. The unopened card felt less significant now, a symbol of a past I thought we’d dealt with, overshadowed by a new, unknown dread.
“Julia texted again,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “She says… something happened. About you. She needed to tell me.”
He stared at me, his face draining of color. The guarded look was replaced by pure fear. The pizza box sat forgotten on the counter between us. In that moment, I knew the unopened card, while a symbol of broken trust, wasn’t the full story. And Julia’s mysterious call was about to reveal a truth far more complex, and potentially devastating, than I could have ever anticipated. The betrayal, if that’s what it was, might just be the least of our problems. I took a deep breath, the cold envelope still in my hand, and decided I had to answer Julia’s call. The resolution to this tangled mess wasn’t in the past, but in whatever terrifying news she was about to share.