Katherine had built a comfortable life after her divorce – peaceful, predictable, and carefully free of emotional complications. Then the flash drive arrived, shattering that careful equilibrium.
Seeing Tom’s face after fifteen years was shock enough. Seeing how illness had ravaged him was unbearable. His video confession – that he’d never stopped loving her, that he’d regretted their separation every day – left her gasping for air.
Memories came rushing back. Their fairy-tale teenage romance, the happy early years of marriage, then the growing tension as Katherine chafed against their small-town existence. She’d convinced herself divorce was the only way forward, never imagining she’d one day watch Tom say goodbye through a computer screen.
Panicked, she tried to contact him, only to discover she was weeks too late. The grief was overwhelming, compounded by guilt and countless what-ifs. When Tom’s carefully curated box of mementos arrived, each item felt like both a gift and a punishment.
There was the ribbon from her graduation bouquet, the map from their cross-country road trip, even the mismatched coffee mugs they’d argued over in the divorce. Most poignant was his wedding ring, polished and placed carefully in a velvet pouch.
At the cemetery, Katherine finally said all the things she’d been carrying for years. As she walked away, she realized Tom had given her an unexpected gift – not just these physical reminders, but the chance to finally make peace with their past.
