Ten Years Later
I never dated. My heart still belonged to Carl. Friends speculated he had left me for a mistress or gotten scared of fatherhood, but I refused to believe it.
Then Gabriel’s 10th birthday arrived.
It was a beautiful, sunny day. Guests filled the backyard with laughter, grilling, and children playing. Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
I opened the door to find a deliveryman holding a small, dusty box.
“It must be a mistake. I didn’t order anything,” I said.
He replied, “Mrs. White, this package was paid for a long time ago. We were instructed to deliver it today, directly into your hands.”
My heart pounded.
The box was from Carl.
I locked myself in my bedroom, hands trembling, and opened it.
On top lay a note.
