As I pulled into the driveway, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! My HUSBAND and his EX-WIFE, Janet, were DIGGING UP all the flowers I’d worked so hard to grow. My heart SANK. 💔 I had no idea Janet was even coming over — I thought they weren’t even on speaking terms! 😤
I jumped out of the car and RAN over to them, demanding to know what in the world they were doing. That’s when Janet turned to MY HUSBAND and said:
“Oh, you didn’t tell her? Love, she DESERVES to know that 10 years ago we” buried something here,” Janet said, brushing dirt off her hands as she stood up.
I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. “What did you bury?” I asked, my voice shaking.
My husband, looking sheepish, finally spoke. “It’s not what you think. It’s… a time capsule,” he admitted, not meeting my eyes.
“A time capsule?” I repeated, incredulous. “You two made a time capsule together?”
Janet nodded, her expression softening. “We were still married back then, and we thought it would be fun to bury something and come back to it in the future. We were young, hopeful, and thought we’d be together forever.”
I stared at the half-dug hole, my mind reeling. All those years, and he’d never mentioned this? The fact that Janet was standing here, digging it up, felt like a punch in the gut.
“I didn’t think it mattered anymore,” my husband continued, sensing my shock. “But we got an email last week from a lawyer—Janet’s father passed away, and he reminded us about the capsule in his will. He knew we buried it here and wanted us to retrieve it.”
“That’s why I came,” Janet said quietly. “It’s a piece of the past, but we’re not the same people anymore. I thought it might bring closure.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to tell them both to leave, but another part was curious. “What’s inside?” I asked, unable to stop myself.
My husband exchanged a glance with Janet, then bent down to pull a small metal box out of the ground. It was rusted, worn by time, and yet… it held a weight far greater than its size.
As they opened it, the first thing I saw was a photograph. It was of them, younger, arms around each other, smiling like they had the whole world ahead of them. My stomach twisted. There were letters, trinkets, and what looked like a piece of jewelry—an old wedding ring.
But then, at the bottom of the box, was something that left me speechless.
A tiny baby sock.
I felt my knees go weak as I stared at it. “What is this?” I whispered, barely able to breathe.
Janet’s eyes filled with tears. “We never told anyone,” she said, her voice cracking. “I was pregnant… we lost the baby before we ever got to hold them. That sock was all we had left.”
Silence fell over the garden as the weight of their shared grief settled between us. It wasn’t just a time capsule—this was a memory of a life that never was. A life I’d never known my husband had mourned.
And in that moment, I understood why they had to dig it up.
