I was just doing the damn laundry. That’s all.
But when I found a perfectly wrapped gift in Dale’s jacket pocket, my gut twisted. Something told me to open it. My hands moved before my mind could catch up, peeling back the crisp wrapping paper.
A sleek bottle of perfume. Expensive. Feminine. And definitely not my scent.
My birthday had already passed. No anniversary coming up. No reason for him to have this.
So who was it really for?
I wasn’t looking for trouble. I was just doing the damn laundry.
It wasn’t my favorite chore, but someone had to do it, and that someone was always me.
Every week, it was the same routine—gather up the clothes Dale left all over the house, sort through the piles, and get to work.
I moved from room to room, grabbing socks from under the couch, his jeans crumpled in the hallway, and a sweatshirt slung over the kitchen chair. Then my eyes landed on his old brown jacket.
That jacket.
The one he never let me wash.
I frowned, hesitating for a second.
It 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 onto the laundry pile, but something inside made a soft thud.
I stopped. Patted the fabric. There it was again—a small, firm shape tucked in the pocket.
Now, I wasn’t a snoop. At least, I hadn’t been before. But something about the weight of it, the way it sat heavy in my hand, made my stomach tighten.
I reached inside, fingers brushing against smooth paper.
A perfectly wrapped box.
I turned it over in my hands. The paper was pristine, tied with a delicate ribbon—the kind of wrapping that took effort. Thought.
Dale wasn’t the “extra gift” kind of guy. He barely remembered to wrap the ones he did give me. And even then, it was usually in whatever bag the store handed him.
My heart pounded.
Maybe I should wait.
Maybe I should ask him.
But my hands had a mind of their own. The ribbon slid off easily. The paper peeled back in a whisper.
A sleek perfume bottle gleamed up at me.
I stared. It was elegant, expensive-looking, definitely not the kind of thing Dale usually picked out.
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.
So if it wasn’t for me…
Who the hell was it for?
I placed the perfume right in the center of the counter where Dale couldn’t miss it. Every time I walked past, my eyes landed on the sleek glass bottle, and my stomach knotted up.
I had all day to think, to run through explanations in my head, to try and convince myself there was a logical reason. Maybe he really had bought it for me and just forgot. Maybe he was planning a surprise and I’d just ruined it.
But nothing felt right.
Dale wasn’t the “surprise gift” kind of guy. And he sure as hell wasn’t the “buying extra gifts just because” type.
The front door creaked open, and Dale stepped inside, stretching his arms with a lazy yawn. He kicked off his boots and 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.”
He barely glanced at it. “Huh?”
I took a step closer. “The perfume. Want to explain?”
That’s when I saw it—the flicker of something across his face. A split second of tension in his shoulders, the quick dart of his eyes before he forced a chuckle.
“Oh, that?” He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah,” he said too quickly. “I, uh, meant to give it to you for your birthday, but I figured I’d wait. Y’know, surprise you later.”
I stared at him, at the way he shifted slightly 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. And this? This felt stretched thin.
I nodded slowly. “Fine.”
I let it go.
At least, I pretended to.
Claire breezed through my front door like she owned the place, like she always did.
“Hey, sis!” she called, tossing her purse onto the counter. “Got any coffee?”
I sighed, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet. “You should start paying rent.”
“Pfft. Consider my presence a gift.”
I rolled my eyes and poured the coffee. Just as I handed her a cup, she let out a sharp gasp.
“Oh my God!” Claire’s voice was high with excitement.
I turned, my stomach sinking.
She was holding it.
The perfume bottle.
“Is this Chéri Élégance?” she practically squealed. “I love this scent! I’ve been dreaming about it forever.”
My grip tightened on my mug. “Yeah,” I said carefully. “Why?”
Claire’s eyes shone. “Dale was asking me about perfumes the other day! Like, really asking. I thought he was just making conversation, but—”
I stopped listening.
The air thickened around me. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
Dale had been asking her about perfumes.
And she loved this one.
Claire’s birthday was in two weeks.
I took a slow sip of coffee, keeping my face neutral. My mind was already three steps ahead. Then, I smiled.
“You know what? You should have it.”
Claire blinked, still holding the perfume midair. “Wait, what?”
I nodded. “It’s not really my style. But if you love it…”
She hesitated. “Are you sure?”
I smiled wider. “Positive.”
She beamed, hugging the bottle to her chest. “Dale has great taste,” she sighed. “I wish I had a man like that.”
My fingers curled around my mug. “Yeah,” I murmured. “Great taste.”
Then I glanced at her, my smile turning sharper.
“Actually, why don’t you stay for dinner?”
She tilted her head, studying me. “Dinner, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Stay. Should be a nice little evening.”
Something flickered in her eyes. A knowing smirk tugged at her lips. “Alright,” she said slowly. “I’ll stay.”
Because she knew.
And this? This was going to be fun.
