Cleaning out the attic, I had no idea that old jacket would lead me to a divorce… and $50,000
As the cool autumn approached, I finally decided to tackle the attic. Over the years, it had turned into a dumping ground for everything: Christmas decorations, forgotten boxes, and old clothes that hadn’t seen daylight for decades. I had planned to clean it out for a long time, but what I found there changed my whole life…
My husband Edward and I had been married for over twenty years. He often said the attic was full of junk. Once, he even called his old school jacket “rags” and said it belonged in the trash.
With that in mind, I started sorting through things: a broken lamp, crafts made by our now-grown kids, and of course Edward’s jacket. Worn, stained, smelling musty with age — I barely glanced at it before tossing it into the garbage bag.
That evening we sat down for dinner. Chicken and potatoes, an ordinary weekday meal. Edward was silent, poking at his food, like something was troubling him.
I decided to break the silence.
“I cleaned out the attic today,” I said, trying to keep the tone light. “Threw away a bunch of old junk.”
He froze. His fork hung halfway to his mouth, then crashed into the plate.
“What junk?!” he asked sharply, eyes wide as if I said the house was burning down.
“Just old stuff. Why are you reacting like that?”
He jumped up, knocking over his chair, and rushed upstairs. I stayed downstairs, puzzled. I heard him rummaging around, cursing loudly. Then footsteps down the stairs and an angry shout:
“Where’s my school jacket?!”
“I threw it away,” I said cautiously. “It was in the pile for the dump.”
Edward turned pale. Veins throbbed on his temples.
“You threw it out?!” he nearly growled. “I said get rid of junk, not that!”
I reminded him, “You said yourself it belonged in the trash!”
He smiled bitterly.
“The day I married you was a curse!”
His words hit me like a slap. Before I could say a word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I ran after him — and saw him speeding toward the local dump.
The jacket. He went looking for it. But why?
I stopped the car at the entrance, and suddenly it all became clear: it wasn’t about nostalgia.
“Edward! What are you doing?!” I yelled, running up to him.
He didn’t stop. He was digging through the trash like possessed.
“Because, Tina,” he rasped without looking at me, “there was fifty thousand dollars in there… I was saving it for us. To buy a new house.”
I recoiled. Fifty thousand? In an old, stinky jacket?
Then it hit me. He said “for us”… but not with me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise!” he shouted. “But now it’s all gone! And it’s your fault!”
I wanted to believe him. But something didn’t add up. His panic, his anger… So I decided to pretend I did.
We searched for the jacket all evening. Never found it. He drove home silently, separate from me. I sat on the couch, unable to calm my anxiety. Something was wrong.
Then I heard his voice from the bedroom. Quiet, almost a whisper:
“…she threw out the jacket. And now the money’s gone…”
My heart froze.
“No, not for her… For us, like we planned…”
“For us?” I understood everything. He wasn’t talking about me. There was another woman. I stormed into the room.
“Who are you talking to, Edward?!”
He turned pale as a sheet.
“Tina, wait…”
“Who were you planning to buy the house with?!” I repeated, my voice icy as ice.
He was silent. But I didn’t need answers.
“I’m filing for divorce,” I said calmly. “And let everyone know who you really are. You called me worthless in front of your mistress…”
He tried to say something, but I was already gone.
A month passed. I won the house.
And then, back in the attic, I was searching for my sewing machine… and found a box I hadn’t thrown out after all.
And inside… was that same jacket.
I gasped in shock. With trembling hands, I reached into the inner pocket… and yes. There it was. Fifty thousand dollars — neatly folded and hidden.
But now it was my secret. Edward had made his choice.
And now, finally, I was making mine.