During the divorce, the husband declared, «Return everything I ever gave you and the kids!» A week laterthere were boxes onhis doorstep. When he opened them he was astounded…

He’d wanted to break her, but instead, she was walking away unbowed. As the judge adjourned the session, Valerie gathered her purse and stood, her heart heavy but her resolve unbroken. She thought of Steve and Rose waiting at home, unaware of their father’s latest betrayal.

She’d protect them, shield them from this ugliness. And as for Leon’s precious gifts, she’d return them all, every last one, and let him choke on his hollow victory. The week following the courtroom showdown passed in a haze of quiet determination for Valerie.

Each day she devoted herself to the task of gathering Leon’s gifts. A meticulous purge of the past that felt both cathartic and crushing. She moved through the house like a ghost, rummaging through closets, drawers and dusty storage boxes tucked away in corners.

Every item she uncovered, a velvet jewellery case, a sleek designer handbag, a delicate crystal vase, carried a memory sharp and bittersweet. The emerald necklace he’d given her after Steve’s birth, a symbol of their fragile reconciliation. The diamond earrings from Paris, a fleeting moment of joy in a crumbling marriage.

The silver bracelet she’d worn to feel strong at events where she played the dutiful wife. One by one, she placed them into cardboard boxes, their weight heavier than their monetary value. The house was silent, save for the soft creak of floorboards and the rustle of tissue paper as she wrapped each item with care, as if preserving them for someone else’s life.

She worked methodically, her hands steady even as her heart ached. The kids were at school during the day and she was grateful for the solitude. It spared her from explaining why she was dismantling pieces of their shared history.

But the hardest part came last. On the final evening, with the boxes of her own gifts sealed and stacked in the living room, Valerie steeled herself and stepped into Steve’s bedroom. The room smelled faintly of his cologne and the lingering scent of the comic books he loved.

Her eyes fell on the telescope by the window, a Christmas gift from Leon when Steve was ten, back when he’d spent hours teaching his son to name the stars. She hesitated, her fingers brushing the cool metal, then gently disassembled it, wrapping each piece in bubble wrap. Next, she gathered the leather-bound astronomy books Leon had given him, their pages still marked with Steve’s careful notes.

Her throat tightened as she placed them in a box, imagining Steve’s confusion, his quiet anger when he learned his father wanted these back. Rose’s room was even worse. The pastel walls and fairy lights felt like a sanctuary Valerie was violating.

She knelt by the bed and lifted the music box Leon had given Rose for her eighth birthday. Its delicate melody tinkling as she opened it. Rose had played it every night before bed, her small fingers tracing the carved roses on its lid.

Valerie’s vision blurred with tears as she wrapped it carefully, tucking it beside the stuffed unicorn Leon had bought during a rare family trip to the zoo. She added the charm bracelet Rose adored, its tiny ballet slipper and star pendants clinking softly as she packed it away. Each item felt like a theft, a betrayal of her children’s trust, but Valerie pressed on, her resolve hardened by the memory of Leon’s smug grin and Annabelle’s predatory smile.

When she finished, the boxes sat in the living room like silent sentinels, a testament to a life unraveled. Valerie sank onto the couch, exhaustion settling into her bones. She stared at the stack, her mind replaying the courtroom scene, Leon’s audacity, Annabelle’s glee, the judge’s weary disbelief.

A part of her wanted to call Duana, to ask if there was a way to fight this, to keep the children’s gifts at least. But she dismissed the thought. Fighting would only prolong the pain, give Leon the satisfaction of seeing her struggle.

No, she’d give him what he wanted and let him choke on it. The front door creaked open and Steve’s voice called out, Mom? You home? Valerie straightened, wiping her eyes quickly. In here, sweetheart, she said, forcing a smile as Steve and Rose appeared, backpacks slung over their shoulders.

Steve’s gaze landed on the boxes, his brow furrowing. What’s all this? Rose peeked around him, her eyes wide. Are we moving? Valerie’s heart clenched.

She’d hoped to delay this conversation to shield them a little longer. No, honey, we’re not moving, she said softly, rising to meet them. These are… some things your dad asked for.

Gifts he gave us over the years. Steve’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening in a way that made him look far older than his fifteen years. What? Like your jewellery? That’s so messed up.

Rose clutched her backpack, her voice small. Does that mean my music box too? Valerie knelt before her, brushing a strand of hair from Rose’s face. Yes, sweetheart, I’m so sorry, but it’s okay.

We don’t need those things to be happy, right? We’ve got each other. Rose’s lip trembled, but she nodded, leaning into Valerie’s embrace. Steve, however, stood rigid, his fists clenched.

He’s taking my telescope, isn’t he? After he promised we’d use it together this summer. Valerie stood, resting a hand on his shoulder. I know it hurts, Steve.

I wish I could change it. But your dad… He’s made his choice. We’re going to be okay without those things.

I promise. With the boxes of Leon’s gifts sealed and stacked in the living room, Valerie wiped her eyes, grabbed a notebook and sat at the kitchen table, her resolve hardening. She decided to make a list of every item she was returning.

A catalogue of Leon’s greed laid bare. She wrote with precision, her pen scratching against the paper as she documented everything, from the extravagant to the trivial. The emerald necklace, valued at thousands, from their fifth anniversary.

The diamond earrings from Paris, a reckless splurge during a rare happy trip. The silver bracelet, antique and irreplaceable, from a charity auction. The crystal vase, a housewarming gift for their first home.

Designer handbags barely used, from years when Leon wanted her to look the part. Steve’s telescope, a Christmas gift that had sparked his love for the stars. Rose’s music box, its melody and nightly comfort.

The charm bracelet with its tiny ballet slipper, a tenth birthday surprise. Even the cheap trinkets. A $60 souvenir mug from a family vacation…