I was just doing the damn laundry.
That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. But when I found a perfectly wrapped gift hidden in Dale’s jacket, my gut twisted. Something told me to open it.
Inside was a sleek bottle of perfume—expensive, feminine… and not my scent.
My birthday had passed. No anniversary. No reason for him to have it.
So why did he?
And more importantly—who was it really for?
I wasn’t looking for trouble. I was just doing the damn laundry.
Every week, the same routine—gather Dale’s clothes from wherever he had tossed them, sort through the piles, and get to work.
Socks under the couch, jeans crumpled in the hallway, and then my eyes landed on his old brown jacket draped over the chair.
That jacket.
The one he never let me wash.
I hesitated. The thing was worn at the elbows, soft from years of use. It smelled like him—faint cologne and the cigarettes he swore he only smoked when he was stressed.
I picked it up, about to toss it onto the laundry pile, when I felt it—something small and firm hidden in the pocket.
I froze. Patted the fabric. There it was again—a solid shape nestled deep inside.
Now, I’m not a snoop. At least, I wasn’t before. But something about the weight of it made my stomach twist.
I reached in, my fingers curling around the edges, and pulled it out.
A small, perfectly wrapped box.
I turned it over in my hands. The paper was smooth, the ribbon tied neatly on top. The kind of careful wrapping that took effort. Thought.
Dale wasn’t the “extra gift” kind of guy. He barely remembered to wrap the ones he did give me.
I ran my thumb along the ribbon, heart pounding.
Maybe I should wait.
But my hands had a mind of their own. The ribbon slid off easily. The paper peeled back in a whisper.
A sleek perfume bottle gleamed up at me.
I stared. Elegant. Expensive. Definitely not something Dale would normally pick out.
I lifted it, turned it over, and spritzed a tiny bit on my wrist. The scent was floral, light, sophisticated.
Not my scent.
Not even close.
My fingers tightened around the bottle.
So if it wasn’t for me…
Who the hell was it for?
I placed the perfume bottle in the center of the counter, where Dale couldn’t miss it.
All day, I stared at it every time I passed, my mind racing through explanations.
Maybe he bought it for me and just forgot. Maybe he was planning a surprise and I’d ruined it.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
But deep down, I already knew.
The door creaked open, and Dale stepped inside, stretching his arms like a man who had nothing to hide. He kicked off his boots and ran a hand through his hair.
“Hey, babe.”
I didn’t answer. Just picked up the perfume bottle and held it up for him to see.
“This was in your jacket.”
His eyes flicked to it, then away. “Huh?”
I took a step closer. “The perfume. Want to explain?”
That’s when I saw it—the flicker of something across his face. A second of tension in his shoulders, the quick dart of his eyes before he covered it up.
Then came the laugh. Light, forced. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, that? It’s for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah,” he said, too quickly. “I, uh, meant to give it to you for your birthday, but I figured I’d wait. Y’know, surprise you later.”
I stared at him. At the way he shifted slightly, like he wanted to step away. Like he wanted this conversation over.
Dale wasn’t a liar. Not really. But I knew when he was bending the truth.
And this?
This felt stretched.
I set the bottle down and nodded. “Fine.”
I let it go.
At least, I pretended to.
The next day, Claire breezed through my front door like she owned the place, as she always did.
She dropped her purse on the counter. “Got any coffee?”
I sighed. “You should start paying rent.”
“Pfft. Consider my presence a gift.”
I rolled my eyes, pouring two mugs. Just as I was about to hand her one, she let out a sharp gasp.
“Oh my God!”
I turned. My stomach dropped.
She was holding it.
The perfume bottle.
“Is that Chéri Élégance?” she asked, practically bouncing in her seat.
I forced my voice to stay even. “Yeah,” I said. “Why?”
Claire’s eyes lit up. “I love this scent! I’ve been dreaming about it forever.”
Something twisted deep in my gut.
She turned the bottle over, smiling. “Where’d you get it?”
I hesitated. “Dale gave it to me.”
Her grin widened. “No way! That’s wild—he was asking me about perfumes the other day. Like, really asking. I thought he was just making conversation, but—”
I stopped hearing her after that.
Dale had been asking her about perfumes.
And she loved this one.
Claire’s birthday was in two weeks.
My mind went blank, then sharpened all at once. My heartbeat slowed, steady.
I picked up my coffee, took a slow sip, and smiled.
“You know what? You should have it.”
Claire blinked. “Wait, what?”
I nodded toward the bottle. “The perfume. It’s not really my style. But if you love it…”
Her face lit up, but hesitation flickered in her eyes. She knew me too well.
“In fact,” I added, “why don’t you stay for dinner?”
Her smirk grew. “Ohhh,” she said, drawing out the word. “This is gonna be good.”
Dinner was nothing special—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, salad no one touched.
Claire leaned against the counter, spritzing herself with the perfume. Dale stepped inside, tossing his keys onto the table.
“Hey, ladies. Smells good in here.”
Claire lifted the perfume bottle and smiled. “Oh, I love this scent. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
Dale froze.
I watched his fingers tighten around his fork.
Claire sighed dramatically. “Wish I had a man who knew exactly what I liked.”
Dale’s jaw twitched.
I leaned back, swirling my wine. “Don’t you think Dale has great taste, Claire? He picked it out himself.”
Silence.
Then, just for good measure, I placed my phone on the table.
And pressed play.
Dale’s voice filled the room.
“Claire, I bought that for you. I wanted to surprise you. Because… because I love you.”
I turned to Dale. “Pack your things.”
His face went pale. “Maggie—”
I shoved the perfume into his hands. “And don’t forget this.”
Claire exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. “Damn, Dale.”
Dale swallowed. Looked at me. Then at her.
And just like that, he knew he was out of chances.
