AuthorEditorReading2 minViews308Published by03.09.2025
That day, I had decided to come home early to prepare a romantic dinner for my husband. I had done some shopping, picked out candles, and planned to decorate the table to surprise him. Little did I know that a very different surprise awaited me…
When I arrived home, I heard noises coming from the garden. Thinking it was our neighbor, I didn’t pay much attention and started preparing the meal. I set the table, lit the candles, and before continuing, I went upstairs to change.
It was then, through the bedroom window, that I spotted my husband. He was there in the garden, bent over a hole he was digging with a strange intensity. Looking more closely, I realized he wasn’t gardening, but digging something up.
Curious, I went down to see what he was unearthing. When he saw me coming, he looked surprised, almost guilty, as if hoping I wouldn’t find out what he was doing. Caught, he had no choice but to reveal the truth.
I was speechless as I listened.
He looked at me, pale-faced, then sighed deeply.
Then, he gently pulled out what he had just dug up: an old rusty metal box, sealed with tape and covered in dirt.
My heart was pounding wildly.
He hesitated for a moment, then opened it.
Inside were letters, old photos, a necklace, and a small leather-covered notebook.
My husband then confessed that these were memories of a youthful love, buried here long before he bought this house… because yes, this house once belonged to that woman’s family.
He had kept this secret for years.
That day, he had simply felt the need to turn the page.
I didn’t know what to say.
Torn between jealousy, tenderness, and a strange kind of respect for this story he had kept to himself for so long.
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