I Bought My Husband a Gift – Inside Was His ‘Lost’ Watch with Another Woman’s Initial #3

When Hayley buys her husband a watch box for their anniversary, she never expects to find his ‘lost’ watch inside. Engraved with another woman’s initial. The truth unravels, secrets surface, and what starts as betrayal turns into something far more unexpected. Some pasts don’t stay buried… and some love stories aren’t what they seem.

Thirteen years of marriage.

That’s how long Mark and I had been with each other. Over a decade of shared laughter, whispered confessions in the dark, and a love that had weathered its fair share of storms.

So, for our anniversary, I wanted to give him something thoughtful. Something that showed I still paid attention to him and his needs. Mark had a habit of leaving his watches scattered all over the nightstand.

His old watch box, you could still call it that, was frayed at the edges, its leather peeling, the compartments barely holding together.

It had served its time.

So, I thought that our anniversary was the perfect opportunity to replace it with something sleek and new. A black leather watch box, engraved with his initials.

Thoughtful. Elegant. Useful. Perfect.

When the package arrived, I felt a flutter of excitement. I wasn’t usually sentimental about gifts, but this one felt right. I peeled off the tape, lifted the lid, and ran my fingers over the soft interior.

Then, something caught my eye.

There, nestled in the black compartment, was an old watch.

My breath hitched.

It wasn’t just any watch, it was the one he wore on our wedding day. The same one his father had passed down to him before he passed away. I had been devastated when he told me that he’d lost it years ago, but he had brushed it off, telling me that it was just a watch.

Now?

I wasn’t so sure.

A sharp, uneasy feeling crept into my chest.

Maybe the store had found it somehow? Maybe they had an inventory mix-up? Maybe Mark had sent it in all those years ago and forgot about it?

I had no clue.

I picked it up, my fingers trembling slightly as I turned it over. And that’s when I saw it.

Engraved on the back, in delicate cursive writing, were two words:

Forever, M.

I stared at it until the letters looked like nothing more than scribbles.

M.

Mark? No. He wouldn’t engrave his own initial. Surely not.

This was something else. Someone else. Someone who meant enough to him to engrave something so intimate.

A chill ran through me.

Who the hell was M?

I sighed, the sigh taking every bit of energy I had. I checked the rest of the packaging, my hands unsteady. That’s when I found it.

A note.

Neat, delicate script, written on crisp white paper with a small, hand-drawn heart at the bottom.

Thought you should have this back – M

It was a deliberate choice of words. It was intentional. Someone had gone out of their way to intercept my package and add their own twist to the order.

This wasn’t an accident. This was a message.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked myself.

I grabbed my phone, my pulse thrumming. I searched for the store’s number, pressing the call button with sweaty fingers.

A woman answered, her voice polite and professional. I forced myself to stay calm and sound normal.

“Hi, I just received my order, but there was an extra item inside… an old watch? My name is Hayley, and I ordered the watch box.”

“Good day, ma’am,” she said. “Let me check for you, hang on a moment.”

There was a pause, and I could hear her typing away at a computer.

“Oh,” she said, hesitating. “I see. The black leather watch box, am I correct?”

“That’s the one!” I exclaimed.

There was another pause.

“I can’t give out much information, ma’am, but the note was a personal request from one of our staff members. She said that the recipient would recognize it.”

My heart pounded.

“Can you at least tell me who it was? A name?”

Silence.

“Her name is… Maria,” she said softly.

“No, that’s fine. You’ve been beyond helpful,” I said.

Maria.

That was the name my husband had been hiding from me for over a decade.

That night, I went about making dinner. I did a Thai green curry and rice. I was livid and hurting, but food was my escape. It was the only thing that would actually keep me calm.

“Oh, this smells incredible,” Mark said as he walked into the kitchen. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well, we needed to eat,” I said simply.

“What’s wrong, Hayley?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself some juice. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’m fine, Mark,” I said. “I just had a busy day. Let’s eat.”

The entire time we sat in the dining room, eating our dinner, I watched him. I couldn’t see the man that I had loved and admired when the day began.

Now? After discovering everything I had, my husband had turned into a stranger.

“I’ll do dishes,” Mark said. “You can have an early night.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m going upstairs.”

Later that night, I set the watch and the note in front of Mark.

He was halfway through changing into his pajamas when he saw them. His body went rigid. His hands froze.

“Where did you—?”

“Who’s M?”

His jaw clenched. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Everything about his body was on the defense. If this man would have turned around and run out of our home, he probably would have.

“It was… a long time ago, Hayley,” he murmured. “I wanted to tell you everything, but…”

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“Oh, don’t bother, dearest. I see perfectly well what this is about.”

I turned toward the closet and grabbed my suitcase.

“No! No! Don’t go! It’s not what you think it is!”

I threw a handful of clothes inside.

“Then tell me, Mark,” I said. “Because what I think is that a woman named Maria just sent over your ‘lost’ watch with a love note engraved on the back. Wasn’t this the watch that your father passed on to you for our wedding?”

I let out a laugh.

“Imagine what he’d think of you now.”

Mark ran a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal.

“Please, Hayley, just listen. Just listen, love.”

“I’m done listening,” I said, zipping up my bag. “You’ve kept this secret for almost a decade. I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. I’m leaving.”

That’s when his voice broke.

“She’s my mother. M or Maria… she’s my mother!”

I froze.

Excuse me? What?

“Maria… she’s my biological mother, Hayley,” he said, his shoulders sagging.

A thick silence stretched between us. The words felt foreign in my head, like I couldn’t quite make them fit.

I had met Mark’s mother a thousand times. She was a kind woman with graying hair and warm eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Maria? I thought that Elaine was your mother. I didn’t know otherwise…”

“I never told you about Maria because, to me, she wasn’t my mother. My dad remarried when I was a baby, and my stepmom raised me. I didn’t see Elaine as a stepmother, Hayley. I always saw her as my mother, even when they told me about it as a child. Nothing changed. Elaine loves me like her own.”

Mark sat down on the bed and held his head.

“She found me about ten years ago. She said that she needed to see me, just once. I agreed.”

I just stared at my husband.

“She told me why she gave me up,” his voice was low, raw. “She had a family. Kids. A husband who never knew about me. We sat together at a coffee shop for a while. It was awkward at first, but we eased into it. As we were about to leave, she asked if she could have something to remember me by.”

He gestured toward the watch, the engraving catching the dim bedroom light.

“I only had my wedding ring and the watch on me. So, I gave her that.”

“But why send it back now?” I frowned. “And clearly she knows our address, or why intercept my order?”

“She came here once,” he said. “A long time ago. It wasn’t for long.”

“So, what now?”

Mark’s eyes darkened.

“I don’t know,” he said, then softer. “But I need to find out.”

He looked at me then, really looked at me.

“Please, come with me.”

An hour later, we stood outside a small, quiet home on the outskirts of town.

Mark’s grip on my hand was tight, his pulse thrumming against my skin. The door opened before we could knock.

An elderly woman stood there, silver-streaked hair pulled into a loose bun. Her face was lined, weary, but her eyes, Mark’s eyes, widened with quiet relief.

“Oh,” she said. “You actually came!”

For the next few hours, we sat in her living room, sipping tea and listening to her stories.

Maria told us she had lost her husband. That her children lived far away. That she had worked at the store for just a month before retirement, just in case Mark’s wife ever came looking for a gift for him.

And now, nearing the end of her own journey, she wanted to return the watch, to give back the piece of her son she had taken.

Forever, M.

Not a lover’s promise. A mother’s regret.

Later that night, as Mark and I drove home, I felt like I could finally breathe.

“Tell me that you’ll be staying… please, Hayley,” he said.

“Forever, M,” I said, laughing.

The scent of garlic and rosemary filled our kitchen, mingling with the warmth of simmering butter.

Mark stood by Maria at the stove, stirring a pot of something rich and fragrant while she guided him with quiet patience. I watched them from across the counter, a glass of wine in my hand, my heart unexpectedly full.

Maria fit here.

That realization hit me as I watched her laugh, really laugh, at Mark’s clumsy attempt to chop onions. She nudged him aside with a gentle tsk, taking over the task herself, her hands steady despite her age.

Mark shook his head, a lopsided smile on his face.

“You see this, Hayley? My own mother just kicked me out of my own kitchen.”

I smiled over the rim of my glass.

“She has good instincts.”

Maria chuckled, the sound soft, almost hesitant. Like she was still testing the waters of belonging here.

I didn’t blame her. This was new for all of us.

I set my glass down and moved to the stove, sliding in beside Mark, pressing my shoulder lightly against his. He glanced at me, surprised by the touch, by the closeness.

I had been running on anger. Hurt. The sting of betrayal, the weight of a secret I hadn’t even known I was carrying.

But now, standing here, seeing the relief in his eyes… the unspoken thank you, something inside me cracked open.

“You should have told me sooner,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said quietly.

I exhaled, watching Maria work, her movements instinctive, like muscle memory. The past had taken so much from her. From Mark. And yet, here they were, side by side, rebuilding something they never had the chance to begin.

“But you don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

“Hayley, would you mind setting the table?” Maria asked me, smiling gently.

I hesitated, the weight of the past few days still sitting on my chest. But then I looked at Mark, his face lighter than I had seen it in years, the unspoken love and gratitude in his eyes.

I met Maria’s gaze, seeing Mark’s eyes in hers, and something in me softened completely.

“Of course.”

And just like that, we became a family.

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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.