It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon when Shayla spotted the small, carefully wrapped box on the corner of the kitchen table. Her breath caught for a second. The wrapping was elegant—silver paper, black ribbon, and a delicate white tag that dangled from the bow. The kind of wrapping that says someone took their time.
Shayla wasn’t one to snoop. At least, that’s what she always told herself. But this felt different. The box was just there, waiting. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday. No holiday. And she and Jordan—her boyfriend of nearly a year—hadn’t talked about celebrating anything.
Curious, she leaned closer. The tag was blank on the outside. She bit her lip and glanced around. The house was quiet—Jordan was in the shower. The rain tapped softly against the windows like a ticking clock.
She reached out and touched the box. It was light. Not jewelry, but definitely something thoughtful. Something… intimate. She smiled, warmth blooming in her chest.
Could it be? Maybe Jordan had planned a surprise. After all, things had been a little distant lately. He’d been distracted. Busy. Always texting someone. Maybe this was his way of showing her that he still cared.
She heard the water stop upstairs. Footsteps followed soon after. Shayla straightened up quickly, moving away from the box like it had burned her.
Jordan came down the stairs with damp curls and a towel slung around his neck. He looked surprised to see her in the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said casually, “Didn’t think you’d be back from your mom’s so early.”
“Yeah, she wasn’t feeling well, so I cut the visit short,” Shayla replied, forcing a smile. Her eyes flicked to the box.
Jordan followed her gaze.
“Oh—uh. That.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s just something for… a friend.”
Shayla tilted her head. “A friend?”
“Yeah. Nothing big. Just… a thank-you.”
She nodded, slowly. But something about the way he avoided eye contact made her stomach twist.
Later that evening, when Jordan had left to “drop something off,” Shayla’s curiosity got the best of her. She wasn’t proud of it, but she checked his desk drawer. He always left things in there—receipts, notes, random junk. Tucked behind a stack of bills was a small envelope with handwriting she didn’t recognize.
Inside was a card. On it, a short message:
“Amber —
Just a little something to remind you of last weekend.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
-J”
Shayla sat down slowly.
Amber.
The name rolled over in her mind like thunder in the distance.
Amber. The girl from Jordan’s office. She remembered meeting her once, briefly. Pretty. Friendly. Too friendly, maybe.
The box hadn’t been for her. It had never been for her.
The silence of the house was deafening now. The rain had stopped, but inside Shayla, something else had started—a flood of realization, anger, heartbreak.
She put the envelope back exactly as she found it. She sat there, staring at the blank tag on the box, now knowing that the blankness wasn’t mystery—it was deception.
When Jordan came home, Shayla was calm.
He smiled when he walked in. “Hey, I dropped it off. Everything okay?”
She met his eyes, this time without hesitation. “Yeah. Everything’s clear now.”
He paused, sensing something in her tone. “You sure?”
She nodded, her voice even. “I know who the gift was for.”
His face paled.
And that’s when he knew the wrapping couldn’t hide what had already been unwrapped