Margaret never could’ve guessed what was waiting for her when she pulled into the driveway that evening. She’d been looking forward to a quiet night with Martin, maybe even surprising him with his favorite lasagna. But the moment she stepped out of her car, her breath caught in her throat.
Right in the middle of her garden—the one she’d lovingly nurtured for months—stood Martin. And beside him, dirt-smudged and intensely focused, was his ex-wife, Janet. Together, they were tearing up her flowers, digging into the very soil Margaret had so carefully tended.
She froze, disbelief washing over her. Was this really happening? Martin and Janet? In her garden? The confusion gave way to a wave of anger that surged through her chest.
Without hesitating, she stormed toward them, her footsteps sharp and furious against the concrete.
“What the hell is going on?” she demanded, voice tight with rage.
Martin’s head snapped up. His face drained of color the second he saw her. “M-Margaret,” he stuttered, letting the shovel fall from his hands with a loud clatter. “You’re home early…”
Margaret narrowed her eyes. His voice, his nervous energy—it was the same every time he was hiding something. But what was he hiding? Why was Janet even here? And why were they destroying her garden?
Martin opened his mouth, trying to explain. “We were just—”
But Janet interrupted coolly, almost enjoying the moment.
“You didn’t tell her?” she said with a raised eyebrow. “She has every right to know about the time capsule.”
Margaret blinked. “Time capsule?”
Janet pointed to a metal box half-buried in the dirt. “We buried it when we lived here, back when we were still married. Figured we’d dig it up someday.”
Martin nodded sheepishly. “It was supposed to be… just a little nostalgia.”
Margaret stared at both of them, stunned. “So your brilliant idea of reminiscing was to destroy my garden?”
“I’m sorry,” Martin mumbled, his face red with embarrassment. “I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t,” Margaret snapped. “You never think.”
With that, she spun around and stormed into the house, heart pounding.
Inside, she paced the living room, the betrayal sinking in. How could he hide this from her? How could he invite Janet back into their lives—into their yard—without a word? And what else was buried out there besides a box of old memories?