Chapter 5: Selling Memories

Before dusk, I moved to a small, remote guest room.

It was the farthest room from the kitchen, tiny and drafty, barely big enough for a twin bed and my battered suitcase. The walls were covered in faded wallpaper, curling at the edges from years of Savannah humidity.

Then I gathered the jewelry Caleb had given me over the years and went to the Gold Leaf Jewelers to sell them.

I used to spend freely here.

The owner recognized me and smiled, leading me into a private room.

Mrs. Beal, the jeweler, had known my mother before me. She glanced at my tired face and offered a glass of sweet tea, the kind that made your teeth ache from sugar.

I laid the items out on the table, one by one.

First was a pair of gold earrings Caleb gave me when he proposed. At that time, he had just passed the bar, was broke, and spent all his savings on this delicate pair of earrings for me.

I remembered his hands shaking as he clipped them on—so young, so hopeful.

Second was a silver bracelet he bought for me with his first real paycheck after being promoted to assistant county attorney.

The links were small and plain, but he’d said it was as strong as the promises he made. I wore it every day, right up until the world started falling apart.

Third was a hair clip he gave me as an apology after that drunken outburst.

I used to love wearing that hair clip and running toward him—the beads would jingle, and he would smile and pull me into his arms, saying I was always so lively, so different from those proper Southern ladies.

For a moment, I let myself remember the way he’d laugh when I told him stories about high school pranks, how he’d call me a firecracker.

…

The owner widened her eyes: “Didn’t Mr. Foster buy these here a few years ago? Natalie, do you really want to sell them?”

Her gaze lingered on me, gentle and a little sad. She pressed her hand over mine for a second, then pulled away.

I said, “Yes.”

She carefully examined the jewelry, then finally handed me a cashier’s check.

I wasn’t good at bargaining, so I just took the check and left.

Outside, the street was bustling.

The sidewalks were crowded with students carrying backpacks, old men selling boiled peanuts from battered carts, and the smell of honeysuckle drifting on the humid air.

I heard Caleb’s voice, full of indulgent laughter: “Do you like this hairpin?”

Lauren replied shyly, “I love it.”

Caleb bought it for her without hesitation.

He handed his credit card over with a flourish, the way he used to for me. The jeweler’s bell jingled brightly in the sticky afternoon air.

When he paid, he looked up and saw me. A flash of surprise crossed his face.

He instinctively glanced at my wrist.

The silver bracelet I used to wear was gone.

Caleb put down the cash, grabbed my wrist, and stared into my eyes.

“Natalie, where’s your bracelet?”

I turned my head away, avoiding his gaze, and lied without hesitation: “I just didn’t wear it.”

His face darkened, and his grip tightened, making me wince in pain.

Lauren quickly tugged at his sleeve: “Caleb…”

He snapped out of it and let go of me.

He forced a smile for her: “Sorry, I lost my temper.”

The heat pressed down, sticky and relentless, as I pulled my wrist free. With everyone watching, I left alone.

The sidewalk felt endless, the weight of my empty wrist heavier than any gold. I kept my chin up as I walked home, trying not to look back.