When a strange package showed up at Kate and Josh’s house, they had no idea what was inside — but when they saw it was from Josh’s estranged father, their confusion turned into worry. Things got even weirder when Josh found a ticking sound coming from inside the gift — a beautiful pillow. It all led to a tense confrontation that forced Josh to face a painful question: Should he forgive his father? Or act like he didn’t even exist?
Josh had just come back from a morning stroll around the garden with our daughter, Emily, sitting proudly on his shoulders, when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” I called, wiping my hands on a towel as I rushed to the door.
A delivery man stood there, holding a medium-sized box.
“I have a package for you,” he said with a polite smile.
I quickly signed for it and brought the box into the kitchen.
Our third wedding anniversary was coming up soon, and I figured Josh must have ordered something special for me. He was always doing sweet, little things like that.
“I just want to surprise you, Kate,” he once said as we cuddled on the couch, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “It’s the little things that matter the most, you know?”
Smiling at the memory, I grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced through the thick packing tape. As I opened the box, my excitement grew.
Inside, carefully nestled in tissue paper, was a stunning, embroidered pillow — the kind that would fit perfectly with our living room decor. Underneath it, a small note peeked out.
I pulled it free and read it:
“Happy Anniversary, Josh and Kate! – Taylor.”
For a second, I just stood there, touched by the unexpected gift. But then, reality crashed in.
There was no way Josh would have accepted anything from his father.
Just then, Josh walked back into the kitchen, Emily giggling on his shoulders.
“Hey, what’s that?” he asked, his eyes curious.
“Well…” I hesitated. “It’s a gift. From… your dad.”
Josh’s face froze. His smile vanished.
He gently set Emily down in her high chair and took the note from my hand. His eyes raced across the words, his jaw tightening.
I braced myself. Their history wasn’t pretty.
Josh had told me the full story one night over dinner, during the early days of our relationship.
When Josh was only seven, Taylor, his father, had walked out on him and his mother.
Not just walked out — abandoned them for another woman.
“A father is supposed to choose his family, Kate,” Josh said that night, pain written all over his face. “But he just left. He picked his mistress over us. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
It broke my heart to hear him talk like that.
Worse, Taylor had a shady side.
“He said Mom was ‘too strict,’ that he deserved to be happy,” Josh explained, gripping his whiskey glass. “But what he really meant was that he wanted to do whatever he pleased. He was always gambling, doing shady business. Then, one day, he packed up and disappeared.”
I had asked, horrified, “He was involved in illegal stuff? At that age, you had to see that?”
Josh just nodded grimly. “Money scams. Gambling. Stuff a kid shouldn’t even know about.”
After that, Josh cut him off completely.
For years, there was no contact — until Taylor tried to wiggle his way back into Josh’s life right before our wedding.
Taylor had caught wind of the upcoming ceremony through distant relatives and thought it was the perfect time to “make things right.” But Josh wanted no part of it.
“I don’t want him around us on our special day, Kate,” Josh said firmly as we folded wedding invitations. “He’d ruin it. Probably show up with debt collectors chasing him.”
“And you don’t think you’ll regret it?” I had asked, worried he might regret slamming the door shut forever.
“Not even a little bit,” Josh replied without hesitation.
I understood. Some wounds run too deep.
When Emily was born, Taylor tried again.
He sent messages, asking to meet his granddaughter. But Josh wouldn’t hear of it.
“I don’t want him near us. Near our child,” Josh said, holding newborn Emily protectively. “Please, Kate. Don’t fight me on this. That man brings nothing but trouble.”
I never argued with him. I trusted his instincts.
And now, standing in the kitchen, holding Taylor’s anniversary gift, the past felt dangerously close again.
Josh picked up the pillow and squeezed it. Then he froze.
He lifted it to his ear. His eyes widened.
“Sweetheart, we can’t keep this pillow!” he burst out.
Before I could even react, he ran to the back door and flung it outside like it was on fire.
“Josh, what’s happening?!” I cried, rushing after him, leaving Emily giggling with her fruit slices.
He turned to me, his face pale.
“It’s ticking, Kate! There’s something inside! He’s up to something.”
My stomach dropped.
“Ticking?!” I gasped. “What do you mean?”
We hurried into the backyard. The pillow lay there, innocent among the flowerbeds.
Josh gestured for me to listen.
I crouched down and pressed my ear against the fabric. Sure enough — a faint, rhythmic ticking.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Was Taylor trying to… hurt us?
“Get your phone,” Josh said urgently. “Record everything. We need proof in case something bad happens.”
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and hit record.
Josh carefully tore open the pillow. Inside, there was a small, black box — with a tiny timer on it.
“What the hell is that?” I whispered, fear creeping into my bones.
Josh’s jaw clenched.
“Let’s find out,” he said grimly. “Call him.”
With trembling fingers, I dialed Taylor’s number.
He answered almost immediately.
“Hi, Kate!” he said brightly. “Did you get my package? I didn’t know what to buy, but I thought you deserved something nice.”
“There’s… something ticking inside,” I said carefully. “A box.”
Josh grabbed the phone.
“Tell us what’s in it!” he demanded.
Taylor sounded calm. Too calm.
“It’s part of the gift,” he said. “The ticking is just the timer. It’s supposed to open on your anniversary.”
Josh narrowed his eyes.
“Is it dangerous? Illegal?” he asked bluntly.
“No, Josh,” Taylor said quietly. “It’s just a gift. Nothing bad, I swear.”
“If you really mean that,” Josh said coldly, “then stay away from us.”
There was a pause. Then Taylor’s voice softened.
“Just open the box, okay? Please.”
Josh ended the call without another word.
He looked torn, his emotions flashing across his face.
“What should we do?” I asked gently.
Josh ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”
“I think… we should open it,” I said quietly. “If he meant harm, he wouldn’t have told us to open it.”
Josh stared at the box. Then he gave a tight nod.
“But record everything,” he said.
Phone still recording, I watched as Josh pried open the little black box.
Inside was something completely unexpected:
A check.
A check for $100,000.
We both gawked at it.
Josh’s mouth opened and closed, like he was trying to find words but couldn’t.
“What is he playing at, Kate?” he finally stammered. “That can’t be clean money. No way.”
Before we could say another word, Taylor called again.
I answered cautiously.
“We found the check,” I said. “Why… why would you send that?”
There was a heavy silence.
Then Taylor’s voice came, soft and broken:
“Because I’m dying, Kate.”
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach.
“I know I messed up,” Taylor said quietly. “I know Josh hates me. But the money — it’s for you. For Emily’s future. If Josh can’t accept it, then keep it hidden. Use it for her education. No one needs to know it’s from me.”
I walked back inside to check on Emily. She sat happily in her chair, stuffing fruit into her mouth, completely oblivious to the storm outside.
Josh followed me inside and took the phone.
“Dad,” he said in a rough voice, “if you’re serious about being sick, we need to talk. No more lies.”
“Thank you, Josh,” Taylor whispered. “You tell me when.”
Later that week, we met Taylor at the park we often took Emily to.
Josh was tense, fidgeting as we waited on a secluded bench.
Finally, we saw him.
Taylor looked… small. Fragile. His hair was gray, his body thin and stooped.
“I’m so sorry,” Taylor said immediately, his voice cracking. “I was a terrible father. I know I can’t make it right, but I want to try. Before it’s too late.”
Josh looked at him for a long moment.
“It’s not easy, Dad,” he said, his voice heavy. “But… maybe we can try. For Emily’s sake. So she knows her grandfather cared enough to help her, even from a distance.”
While Josh and Taylor talked, I spread out the little picnic I’d packed — sandwiches, fruit, cookies. Just in case we needed a reason to sit and stay.
As we left the park that afternoon, Josh reached for my hand and squeezed it tight.
“Maybe it’s a good thing that pillow showed up,” he said, a small, hopeful smile flickering across his face.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like a new beginning.
Maybe things really could get better.