My life changed forever in a supermarket parking lot. But before I get to that, let me take you back a bit.
Just a month ago, my marriage to Michael officially ended. He had filed for divorce out of nowhere, and I didn’t fight it. What was the point? Sometimes people just fall out of love. So I let him go, and we hadn’t spoken since.
That day, I was at the store picking up cat food for a new rescue at my veterinary clinic. As I walked toward my car, something in the parking lot caught my eye—a sleek, white sports car parked between two old sedans. It looked brand new, the kind of car you see in commercials where the driver flashes a cocky smile before speeding off into the sunset.
I stared at it, trying to figure out the brand when the driver’s door swung open. My breath hitched.
Michael stepped out. But it wasn’t the man I remembered.
The Michael I had been married to wore cheap khakis and wrinkled t-shirts. More often than not, he was in his grocery store cashier uniform, exhausted from working six days a week for just above minimum wage.
But the man in front of me now was someone else entirely. He wore a tailored designer suit that probably cost more than our old apartment’s rent. A Rolex gleamed on his wrist. His hair was perfectly styled—not the messy mop I used to ruffle on lazy Sunday mornings.
A wave of confusion crashed over me. How did he afford all this?
Before I could stop myself, I walked toward him. “Michael?”
He turned to me, and for the briefest second, I saw something flicker in his eyes—shock, guilt maybe? But it was gone in an instant, replaced with cold indifference.
I forced a smile. “Wow, congratulations! This must be the car you’ve always wanted. You must be doing really well. Did you get a new job?”
Michael scoffed. “Katherine, we’re not together anymore. This isn’t your business.”
He turned to leave, then suddenly stopped. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a crisp $100 bill and tossed it at me. The wind carried it down to the pavement at my feet.
“Here,” he smirked. “Think of it as my parting gift.”
I stared at the bill, my stomach twisting with anger. He thought I needed his money? I had always earned more than him. I was a veterinarian, and he was a cashier. I never cared about the difference. I had loved him for who he was—or at least who I thought he was.
“Really?” I snapped. “This is who you are now?”
He just smirked and walked into the store.
Fuming, I was about to storm off when something made me pick up the bill. That’s when I saw it—a small smiley face drawn at the bottom.
My breath caught in my throat.
Suddenly, I was back in my grandfather’s study. It was one of our last conversations before he passed away. He had pulled out a bottom drawer and revealed stacks of money—neatly bundled $100 bills.
“Kat, take this,” he had said. “Use it for your future. Open your own veterinary clinic or a rescue. Get a proper house. I want you to be happy and secure.”
I had laughed, shaking my head. “Grandpa, I don’t need this. There are so many charities that do.”
He had sighed, trying to convince me, but I had just smiled, taken a bill, and drawn a little smiley face on it before handing it back. “Don’t be sad, Grandpa. Don’t worry about me. Let’s just go enjoy the garden.”
Two weeks later, he was gone. I had assumed his money went to my relatives and charity. But now, holding that $100 bill in the supermarket parking lot, my heart sank.
Michael had my grandfather’s money.
Harrison’s office towered over the city skyline, far more intimidating than Grandpa’s cozy study. He was Grandpa’s oldest friend and business partner, a man who refused to retire despite his seventy-something years. His office was filled with family photos, including one of him and Grandpa fishing together.
“Katherine! What a surprise,” he said warmly, leaning back in his leather chair. “What brings you here?”
I sat down and placed the $100 bill on his desk. “Did Grandpa mention who he gave his money to?”
Harrison frowned, adjusting his reading glasses. “He told me you weren’t interested. Why do you ask? Are you in trouble? How much do you need?”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. I just saw Michael—he was driving a sports car, wearing designer clothes. And then he threw this at me. I drew that smiley face. It was on the stack Grandpa offered me.”
Harrison sighed, rubbing his temple. “Oh, Katherine… Your grandfather gave Michael the money. He believed it would make your life better. I advised against it, but he must have done it.”
My chest tightened. “That’s why Michael divorced me right after Grandpa died. He planned this all along.”
Harrison studied me for a moment before reaching into his drawer and sliding a business card across the desk. “Do you want to do something about it?”
That’s how I found myself sitting across from Logan, a sharp-witted, confident lawyer.
“Your ex took advantage of your grandfather’s kindness, filed for divorce, and ran off with the money?” Logan said, taking notes. “That’s fraud by deception.”
I swallowed. “But what can I do now? He’s probably spent most of it.”
Logan smirked, standing up. “Then let’s pay him a visit.”
Michael’s luxury apartment had marble floors and a suspicious doorman who eyed me like I didn’t belong. When Michael opened the door, he looked startled.
“Who’s this?” he sneered, eyeing Logan.
“Miss Katherine’s attorney,” Logan said smoothly. “We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Michael snapped.
“Then we’ll see you in court,” Logan replied. “We’ll subpoena your bank records, text messages, and prove you manipulated Katherine’s grandfather for financial gain. If you fight this, you’ll lose everything.”
Michael’s confidence faltered.
“You lied to my dying grandfather,” I said, voice shaking. “You planned this.”
After a tense silence, Michael finally slumped. “Fine. I’ll sell everything. You’ll get your money back.”
Logan smirked. “Good. And we’ll set up a payment plan for whatever you can’t return immediately.”
As we turned to leave, Michael called out, “Kat, I…”
I looked at him one last time. “Save it. I hope it was worth it.”
A year later, I used that money to open my veterinary clinic in Grandpa’s honor. At the grand opening, Harrison brought his dog and told me Grandpa would be proud.
And Logan? A few weeks later, he asked me to dinner. Two years after that, I married him.
He doesn’t know this, but I still keep that smiley $100 bill in my wallet—a reminder of my grandfather’s love, and the twist of fate that led me to my true happily ever after.
