I Threw Away His Old Jacket, and My Husband’s Reaction Was Unbelievable – Here’s Why

My Husband Rushed to the Dump Upon Learning I Threw Away His Old Jacket from the Attic — I Was Speechless When I Found Out Why

Up until my husband lost his mind over the assumption that I had thrown away a ripped-down jacket, cleaning the attic was going to be an everyday task. It was that article of apparel that ultimately revealed the truth about what he was up to behind my back. And that resulted in something I could never have imagined in my life!

I finally made the decision to take on the attic one cool September afternoon. It has served as a catch-all for years for everything from vintage clothing that hadn’t been worn in decades to seasonal decorations. After years of marriage, I finally cleaned it out because of what I discovered within, but it took me a long time to become single.

Cleaning the attic continued getting pushed down the list, just like everything else in life. Jeff, my spouse, had previously indicated that the most of the items up there were useless. He even advised me last year that his old high school jacket, which is currently buried behind a stack of boxes, ought to be thrown in the trash.

Keeping that in mind, I began removing items one by one. A cracked light, stacks of our grown-up children’s schoolwork, and naturally, Jeff’s old jacket. I gave it a cursory check before throwing it in the pile destined for the trash can.

It smelled like it had spent years locked in a musty attic, and it was faded and ripped in a few places. Not so much a nostalgic memento, is it?

That night, we had dinner together, just the typical weeknight fare where we hardly had time to chat before clearing up and calling it a night. Even though my twenty-year-old husband smelled like grilled chicken, he was strangely silent.

I broke the silence after he had been picking at his food for some time.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “I cleaned out the attic today,” in a casual manner. “Threw out a bunch of our old junk.”

Jeff became motionless. With a clatter, he dropped his fork onto the plate as it stopped halfway to his mouth.

“What JUNK?” he exclaimed, his eyes widening as though I had just informed him that the house was on fire.

“Just a few vintage items from the loft. Why not?” I tried not to be too serious, but I became concerned when I noticed a shift in his expression.

My husband pushed back his chair without saying anything else and almost knocked it over in his rush to get upstairs. His sudden panic confused me, so I stayed behind. I caught him grumbling to himself as he dug through crates.

A few moments afterward, he stormed downstairs with his fists balled up at his sides.

“Where’s my old school jacket?” His voice had an edge to it that I had never heard before, and it was dangerously low. It was as though he was prepared to strike the walls!

I glanced at him, trying to make sense of his intense concern.

“I think I threw it,” I admitted. “It was in a pile of stuff for the dump.”

His face was completely devoid of color, and I could practically feel his heartbeat thumping in his skull!

“You THREW it away?” His voice trembling with barely restrained rage, he hissed. “I told you to throw away the junk, not that jacket!”

I was stunned and stood there. “Jeff, last year you said that jacket was trash… literally said it belonged in the dump!”

He laughed bitterly, sending shivers down my back.

“Hey, let me tell you something. “It was a curse that day I married YOU!”

His remarks felt like a gut punch to me! He stormed out of the house, grabbed his car keys, and pulled out of the driveway before I could reply.

I was too shocked to move for a moment! But then I felt compelled to follow him. My pulse was racing as I hurried after him while clutching my purse. Where on earth could he be going so crazy?

Everything fell into place as I watched him pull into the neighborhood dump!

The coat. He came in search of that worn-out jacket. However, why? There had to be more to it than sentimentality. And did he really mean that being married to me was a “curse”?

But I would soon discover what was inside that jacket and why it would destroy our union.

After parking and running after him, I saw my spouse scurrying around among rubbish heaps. Never before had I seen him like this—so tense, so wild! As I got closer to him, my heart raced.

“Jeff, what’s happening? What is the purpose of your actions?” With a shaky voice, I demanded.

He turned away from the digging and looked at me, his face pallid.

“Because, Stacy,” he growled, “I was short on cash.” $50,000. To purchase a new home for us.”

I stepped back, attempting to take in what he was saying. Fifty thousand? in a worn-out, ragged jacket?

However, his words kept repeating in my mind. “For US.” I was skeptical of it. Something didn’t feel right—really right.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I didn’t think I had to!” he angrily exclaimed, then resumed his frantic hunt. “I intended to take you by surprise. It’s all disappeared now because of you.”

I had no notion at the time what he was truly doing behind my back or that the money he’d saved was not all that it seemed!

I believed his falsehood.

Something in me twisted as I watched him pick among mounds of trash, his hands soiled. Even though she really wanted to believe him, there were holes in his story. However, I was unable to identify what it was. That night, we never located the jacket. After several hours of looking, Jeff finally gave up and sank to the ground.

He refused to give me a glance.

We took our separate cars home, and I remained mute, still processing my husband’s words and deeds. I had a persistent sense that something was seriously off. Jeff didn’t say anything when we arrived home; he just walked straight to the bedroom.

My thoughts were racing as I sat on the couch and stared at the wall. Why did that jacket appeal to you? Why was he behaving in this way? Was the jacket indeed filled with cash?

After an hour, I heard my husband’s quiet, low voice coming from the bedroom. Leaning near enough to hear his comments through the thin walls, I scampered up to the door.

Jeff was stating, “I don’t have the money anymore.” “That useless woman threw it out with the jacket!”

My throat tightened around my breath…

He went on, “No, I wasn’t keeping it for her and me.” “It was for the house… for US, like we said.”

I felt my blood freeze. “US?” He was not referring to me. He was referring to another person!

I could not contain my rage any longer, so I shoved open the door!

“WHO are you talking to, Jeff?”

He turned to face me, phone still in hand, and his face went pale. “Stacy… I…”

Saying “no,” I interrupted him. “Who were you going to buy a house with?”

He simply stared at me without responding, his jaws moving like a fish out of air.

However, I didn’t NEED his response. I was aware of this beforehand. Someone else was present. Someone who had been holding out for that $50,000.

“I’m going to file for divorce,” I remarked in a steady, collected voice. “Everyone, including the children, will learn the truth about your true identity. To your mistress, Jeff, you called me useless.”

At this point, it was the only rational thing to do.

I didn’t stay to hear Jeff’s justifications, even though his angry expression contorted. I turned and left without turning around.

I was back in the attic a month after the divorce since I had won the house in our filing. I had started a project and wanted to acquire my old sewing machine, but the craziness of the past two weeks had prevented me from going back.

My palm touched something soft and familiar as I was going through boxes.

Jeff’s old jacket was there, at the bottom of a box I’d somehow missed.

I froze, taking it out and looking at it nonchalantly. I had not, after all, thrown it away!

I opened the inside pocket with nervous hands and there it was—the $50,000 precisely where he had placed it, folded neatly!

However, there was no hurry to tell anyone this time. No requirement to share. Now that Jeff had made his decisions, it was my turn to make them. My heart was pounding thinking about what I would do with the money, so I decided to keep it.

This time, I had to keep it a secret.

Although my tale ended somewhat happily, having a baby outside is worse than your boyfriend cheating on you. That’s what happened to Lily; her husband withheld the fact that he was unfaithful from her until she eventually found out about his mistress and child.