Ivy stepped forward.
“Those were my things!”
I looked at her.
“Then let’s check what’s inside. If Joel accidentally took anything valuable, we’ll return it.”
“Everything in that bag belongs to me!”
I nodded.
“Fine. We’ll look together.”
I took the bag from Joel.
Then I carefully emptied its contents onto the sidewalk.
Pieces of cardboard fell out.
Fabric scraps scattered across the pavement.
Then a man’s shirt slipped from the pile.
Something caught in its sleeve struck the concrete with a small metallic sound.
I looked down.
A wristwatch.
Silver bracelet.
Blue face.
My entire body went still.
I knew that watch.
I knew every detail of it.
I bent down and picked it up.
For a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to turn it over.
Then I did.
There, engraved on the back, were five familiar words.
**“Always your home. S.”**
My breath caught.
It was Nathan’s watch.
The anniversary present I’d spent half a year saving to buy.
The same watch he’d worn proudly before abandoning our family.
And somehow, it had ended up among the belongings my neighbor was throwing away.
I looked at Ivy.
Her expression changed the moment she realized what I was holding.
**“Ivy, why do you have my husband’s watch?”**
Her face lost all its color.
“Give me that.”
I tightened my grip.
“Where did you get it?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
I stared at her.
“You just accused my eleven-year-old son of stealing from you. I think that makes it very much my concern.”
She reached forward and snatched the watch from my hand.
Then she hurriedly gathered the scattered items and stuffed them back into the yellow bag.
“I don’t owe you any explanation.”
“Ivy, wait!”
But she was already walking toward her house.
Within seconds, her front door slammed shut.
Joel stood beside me looking frightened.
“Mom, am I in trouble?”
I turned toward him.
“No, sweetheart.”
I pulled him into a hug.
He hesitated.
“Was that Dad’s watch?”
I closed my eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why did Mrs. Ivy have it?”
I stared at the closed door three houses away.
**“That’s exactly what I’m going to find out.”**
That evening, Joel sat at our kitchen table cutting cardboard into small shapes.
He was working on another project.
Normally, he’d talk nonstop about what he was building.
But that night, he was unusually quiet.
Finally, he looked up.
“Mom, do you think Mrs. Ivy knows where Dad is?”
I put down the dish towel I was holding.
“Maybe.”
He studied my face.
Then said something that broke my heart.
“I don’t want him to make you cry anymore.”
I walked over and kissed his forehead.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to worry about protecting me.”
He nodded.
But I could tell he was still thinking about the watch.
So was I.
Ivy had moved onto our street six months after Nathan left.
For years, she’d asked detailed questions about our lives.
And now she’d somehow ended up with his anniversary watch.
There had to be a connection.
The following morning, I knocked on her door.
No answer.
I knocked again.
Still nothing.
I called her phone.
She ignored it.
By Sunday morning, a moving truck was parked outside her house.
I watched from my porch in disbelief.
Ivy was carrying boxes toward the truck when I approached.
“Moving already?”
She stiffened.
“Sarah, this really isn’t a good time.”
“Then tell me why you had Nathan’s watch.”
She looked away.
“I bought it secondhand.”
“With my personal engraving on the back?”
Her expression tightened.
I took a breath.
“Were you involved with him?”
Her eyes widened.
“Absolutely not!”
“Then why are you suddenly leaving?”
“I’m not running away!”
“Then tell me the truth.”
For several seconds, she stared at me.
Then her expression hardened.
“Your husband wasn’t worth the trouble he caused.”
Before I could ask what that meant, she disappeared into the house.
I stood on the sidewalk watching the movers carry furniture outside.
Whatever Ivy knew, she was willing to leave town rather than explain it.
And that frightened me more than I wanted to admit.
***
That afternoon, my phone received a message from an unfamiliar number.
**Unknown: My mother told me what happened. I think we need to talk.**
I frowned.
**Me: Who is this?**
The reply arrived almost immediately.
**Unknown: Vanessa. Nathan’s wife.**
I read those words three times.
Then I called the number.
A woman answered.
“Hello, Sarah.”
I could barely speak.
“His what?”
She sighed.
“His wife. Although we’re separated now.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Ivy’s daughter.”
I sank into a chair.
For five years, I’d wondered whether Nathan had left me for someone else.
Now I finally had an answer.
But I was about to discover that his affair wasn’t even the most disturbing part of the story.
Vanessa agreed to meet me at a coffee shop the following afternoon.
She arrived looking exhausted.
She was younger than me, with tired eyes and an expression full of regret.
Before sitting down, she said,
“I’m sorry about what my mother did.”
I folded my hands around my coffee.
“How long have you known about me?”
She hesitated.
“Mom told me everything after she decided to move. She realized you might eventually find me, and I think she wanted to clear her conscience.”
I stared at her.
“Then start at the beginning.”
Vanessa nodded.
“I met Nathan at work.”
I waited.
“He told me your marriage was already falling apart.”
“And you believed him?”
She lowered her eyes.
“I wanted to.”
“Did you know about Joel?”
“Yes.”
“And you stayed with him anyway?”
She swallowed.
“Then I found out I was pregnant. Nathan promised he’d make a decision.”
I gave a bitter laugh.
“And he decided to abandon his wife and son.”
Vanessa looked down.
“I’m sorry.”
“Did you marry him?”
“After your divorce was finalized.”
She hesitated.
“We have a daughter. Lily. She’s four.”
I sat silently for a moment.
Nathan had another child.
A little girl.
Joel had a half-sister he’d never met.
And I had spent five years raising him alone while Nathan built another family.
But there was one question I needed answered more than anything.
“Why did your mother move onto my street?”
Vanessa’s expression changed.
“Because Nathan asked her to.”
I stared.
“What?”
“He wanted someone nearby who could keep an eye on you and Joel.”
My hands tightened around the coffee cup.
“You’re telling me Ivy moved there deliberately?”
Vanessa nodded.
“I didn’t know at the time. I thought Mom simply wanted a different neighborhood. She only admitted the truth after she moved out.”
I felt sick.
For five years, I’d welcomed Ivy into our lives.
I’d let her spend time with Joel.
I’d accepted her cookies.
I’d borrowed money from her.
