Chapter 2 GIFT

RACHAEL

This must be a twisted joke. It doesn't make sense. We were together for almost a decade. We'd been through everything together. The ups, downs, and struggles that you could think of that should have torn us apart somehow made us stronger. At least, that's what I thought.

Jack and I had met during our first year of college, a whirlwind romance that turned into a love I thought would last forever.

We fell for each other fast. Too fast, some might have said, but we didn't give a fuck what other people thought. He was my person. We navigated every stage of life side by side from graduating, getting our first jobs, moving in together, and finally, getting married. We went from being carefree young adults to responsible, mature people, taking on the world together.

I loved him more than anything. More than anyone. I thought he felt the same.

So how? How could this happen? Where had it gone wrong?

There were no signs, no arguments, no distance between us. If anything, I thought we were closer than ever. Sure, we had a few rough patches, but which marriage didn't? We were partners in every sense of the word. There was no indication that he was unhappy, no hint that he was struggling.

This is too much of a surprise.

I still can't move. My body feels disconnected from my mind, which is racing in a thousand directions, trying to grasp some sort of explanation or something that makes sense. But nothing does. Nothing adds up.

My hands tremble as I reach for my phone again, thinking I might have missed something. Maybe a message, an email, or something to explain what is happening. But as I scroll through, the only thing waiting for me is the message from Amy earlier: *Have the best birthday, babe! You deserve it!*

I put the phone down and stare at the empty house, my chest tightening with each breath. Jack wouldn't just leave. He wouldn't just disappear like this, not without saying something. But the note... it is his handwriting. The closet is empty. His number is disconnected.

A sob builds in my throat, but I swallow it down. Tears blur my vision, but I fight them. I can't cry. Not yet. I have to get to the bottom of this. I need to know how we had gone from being in love to this? I always considered myself very intuitive, always aware of what was happening around me; therefore, this came as a shock.

There was no warning. No gradual drift apart. No fights about bills or kids we couldn't have. Nothing pointed to this moment.

My hands shake as I send a text. "Please come to the apartment as soon as you can." I stare at the screen briefly before pressing send, hoping Amy will get here quickly. I can't process this alone. I don't even know where to start.

The silence of the apartment is suffocating. Every second that passes seem to stretch on forever, and the only sound is my shallow breathing. I stand in the middle of the living room and my eyes dart around. I need answers. Somewhere in this house, there has to be something that explains why my husband has vanished, why he'd left me with nothing but a note on my birthday.

With shaky steps, I gather whatever strength I can muster and start going through the apartment. Drawers. Cushions. Closets. I tear through every inch of our lives, searching for anything, anything at all that can explain why Jack has done this to me.

I find myself rummaging through the trash bag, desperate now. It is disgusting, but I don't care. All I want is answers. I sift through crumpled receipts, empty takeout containers, and bits of discarded paper. Something catches my eye, a receipt from a jewelry store.

I freeze, as I stare at it.

If he was planning to leave me, why would he buy me a gift? A new wave of confusion washes over me. It doesn't make sense.

I turn the receipt over in my hands, my mind clouding with more questions.

Before I can spiral any further, I hear a knock on the door. I ran to answer it, my heart pounding in my chest. I open the door and there is Amy standing on the other side, her face filled with concern.

"Are you okay, Rachael?" she asks, stepping inside. "Your text seemed urgent."

"I think Jack has left me," I whisper, my voice breaking as I try to hold back the tears.

"I came home and found all his clothes gone. I've looked everywhere for clues, and the only thing I could find is this." I hand her the receipt, my fingers trembling as I do.

"He bought me a gift and then left?"

Amy stares at the receipt, her brows furrowing as she takes it all in. She sits down on the couch, too stunned to speak for a moment. The silence stretches between us, thick with uncertainty and disbelief. I sit next to her, my stomach in knots, waiting for her to say something, anything that might help me understand.

After what feels like an eternity, she finally speaks.

"What do you mean Jack left?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you guys were happy."

"Well, Amy, I thought so too," I reply, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I don't understand. What am I going to do?" My voice cracks, and a sob catches in my throat again.

Amy looks at me with wide eyes, then glances down at the receipt in her hand.

"Rachael could Jack be having an affair?" she asks slowly, as if testing the waters with each word.

"Maybe he bought the jewelry for her... and he left you for her?"

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut.

An affair? My Jack? The Jack I'd loved for nearly ten years? My mind recoils at the thought, but at the same time, the possibility sneaks its way into my consciousness. Could it be true? Could I have missed the signs?

I stare at Amy, my mouth dry, unable to answer. My mind still spinning. Everything feels like it is crashing down around me.

"How can you say that to me, Amy?" I snap, the words sharper than I intend.

"I think if he was having an affair, I would have known. No one is that good. He always came home, always answered my calls. He never did anything that would make me suspect something like that."

Amy bites her lip, looking like she regrets bringing it up.