She Mourns in Autumn, I Buried My Husband in Winter

It was part of my mother’s dowry, passed down through generations of Thornton women. It went missing last year and even after searching and reporting it, I couldn’t find it. Turns out, he stole it and gave it to his illegitimate daughter.

When Matt saw the bracelet, his face changed. “Sarah, listen! It’s just a replica, not the one you lost! I only had it copied because I liked the design for the child to play with…”

He glared at Lindsay and said sharply, “Lindsay, take it back! It’s worthless. Auntie wouldn’t want it!”

He tried to grab the bracelet, but I was faster and took it first. “No, I like it very much,” I said.

Seeing their faces go pale, I added calmly, “My mom’s bracelet is gone, so this fine imitation will do as a reminder.”

I looked it over and laughed softly. “The jade color is close, but the carving and details are blurry. A good imitation is still just an imitation.”

Matt relaxed a little and sighed. “Yeah, it’s nothing compared to yours.”

Isabella winced, pressed a hand to her forehead and leaned toward Matt. “Matt, I feel dizzy… so uncomfortable…”

I coldly watched her poor act, my face expressionless, while Matt grew increasingly anxious. He pushed me aside and carried Isabella, glaring at me. “I’m taking her to rest! She’s unwell. You don’t need to come!”

I watched them disappear around the corner, frozen in place. Looking down at the bracelet in my hand, I wondered how much Matt had been hiding from me all these years.

I took out my phone and called the Ferguson Group in Eldravia. “Harry, it’s me. Get me the best private investigator…”

After finishing everything and signing the company order, I went home. That evening, Matt video-called, saw I was home and sighed in relief.

“Sarah, Isabella’s illness came back and I can’t leave... I’m sorry you have to spend your birthday alone again.”

I smiled gently. “It’s okay. I understand her condition is serious.”

He said quickly, as if offering a treasure, “I sent you a gift. It should arrive soon. You’ll like it.”

I glanced at the trash can filled with 999 roses and a black truffle cake, same as every year, nothing new.

I ended the call, saying I was tired. Then the private investigator texted me a photo of Matt and his family setting off fireworks for their “seventh anniversary.”

A wave of nausea hit me. Was I the other woman? They’d been together seven years and I’d been married to him for six; six birthdays spent alone.

“Sarah, Isabella’s autumn melancholy is serious. She’s an orphan. If I don’t help her, no one will.”

“Sarah, you’re so kind. Please forgive her. She’s a special case, okay?”

He lied to me for six years, living with Isabella all that time. I’d been such a fool.