My Boyfriend Gave Me a Box Labeled 'Do Not Open' and Asked Me to Keep It, but One Night, I Couldn't Resist – Story of the Day

My boyfriend gave me a box with a warning written in bold: ‘Do Not Open’. I promised to leave it alone, even joked about it. But then something changed—his calls, his touch, his silence. One evening, his behavior left me with no choice. And that was the night I opened the box.

You know that moment when you mess up so badly, and you realize nothing can ever fix it? Yeah. I know that feeling. And let me tell you — it's the worst feeling in the world. But I'll get to that. Because what led me to that moment didn't happen overnight.

I had everything people usually dream of. A job I loved, a purpose that mattered. I worked as a doctor, something I had worked for all on my own.

My parents could not afford to help me, so I put myself through school, took extra shifts, studied until my eyes burned, and somehow became the top student in my class.

I became one of the best doctors in my hospital. I had friends who were like family. And I had Colin — the kind of man women only read about in romance novels.

He worked in the same hospital as a pediatrician. That was how we met. And though I never used to believe in love at first sight, that was exactly what happened between us.

There was this strange electricity when we first spoke, and when we talked later about that day, we both admitted we just knew.

We had been dating for two years, but it felt like we had always been together. We were in the middlev of planning our move to a new apartment when one evening, he came over with a box.

He placed it on my coffee table — a simple, neatly wrapped box in single-colored gift paper. I looked at it and immediately noticed the large label on top printed in bold: "Do Not Open."

I laughed. “What is this?”

“I just need you to keep it here for a bit,” he said. “I'll be moving soon anyway, so I figured this wouldn't be a problem.”

I raised an eyebrow and looked back at the box. “Let me guess… I'm not supposed to open it?”

Colin smiled. “That's what the label says.”

“Is this some kind of new psychological torture?” I teased. “Like laying out a feast and telling someone they're not allowed to eat any of it?”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me. “No torture intended. I promise. I just need you to hold onto it for a while.”

“I'm not sure I can resist,” I warned.

“Then hide it somewhere,” he said playfully. “Out of sight, out of temptation.”

I studied him, then asked, “What's in there anyway? What kind of secrets are you keeping from me, Colin? And why can’t you just keep it yourself?”

He hesitated just a second too long. “It's nothing bad. I just need you to do this for me. A favor, from your boyfriend.”

I gave in. “Fine, fine. I'll keep your mystery box.”

He kissed my forehead. But then, suddenly, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and tensed up. His entire body changed — he pulled back from our hug.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said too quickly. “Just… hospital stuff. They need me.”

“Who texted?” I asked, trying not to sound suspicious.

“No one,” he replied, then added, “I mean… it’s from work.”

He kissed my cheek and rushed out the door, leaving me standing there confused. What had just happened?

I stared at the box again, unsettled, then finally shoved it onto the top shelf of my closet.

I pulled out my phone and texted my best friend, Riley. Colin left. Want to hang out? I waited… but she just read the message and said nothing.

Not even a “maybe later.” That was weird. Riley always replied. Always. But I told myself not to read into it and tried to distract myself.

The next few days passed in a blur of work and silence. My routine stayed the same — hospital, home, sleep — except something had shifted.

Colin was different. He still called, still came over sometimes, but he was quieter, distracted.

I asked him once if something was wrong, and he just blamed the workload. “I'm just tired,” he would say.

But the box haunted me. Like a whisper in the back of my mind every time I opened my closet. I caught myself reaching for it more than once and had to stop myself. What was inside? Why couldn’t I open it?

And then there was Riley. She still had not responded. I tried calling her twice — no answer. Straight to voicemail. I told myself maybe she was busy. But it didn't feel like that. It felt… intentional.

One evening, Colin stayed over. We had a cozy night — dinner, wine, a movie. He fell asleep beside me, his breathing soft and even. But I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing, and something didn't sit right.

Then his phone buzzed.

I turned my head slowly. Who was texting him at this hour? My hand hovered over the nightstand where his phone rested.

I almost picked it up. Almost. But something in me said no. I pulled my hand back, rolled over, and tried to sleep.

The next morning, Colin left early for his shift. I had the day off. I sat in the silence of my apartment, restless, and then decided to go to Riley’s place. I needed answers.

When I pulled up to Riley’s house, I was still trying to convince myself that everything was just a big misunderstanding.

That maybe she had lost her phone, or been busy, or mad at me for some reason I had somehow missed.

But when I parked and glanced up at the living room window, everything inside me turned to ice.

I froze behind the wheel.

There they were. Together. Riley and Colin. Inside her house. Laughing.

Colin touched her shoulder. She brushed his hand. Then he pulled her into a hug — long and close.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. My pulse thundered in my ears, and I sat there staring at them, my fingers locked around the steering wheel so tightly they began to ache.

Without thinking, I flung the car door open and stormed up the walkway. The door was unlocked. I pushed it open and walked straight in.

They turned to look at me like I was the one who did something wrong.

"So this is what it meant, huh?!" I shouted, my voice already shaking with rage. “This is why you’ve been acting weird, Colin?! This is who’s been texting you in the middle of the night?”

Colin’s face went pale. His mouth opened but the words hesitated on his tongue. “It’s not what it looks like—”

“Don’t,” I snapped. I turned toward Riley. “You. I trusted you more than anyone. You were like a sister to me, Riley. I loved you like family. And you do this?”

Her lips trembled as if she was trying to find the right words, but all she managed was a pitiful, “Please, just listen—”

“No!” I nearly screamed. “Is this why you’ve been ignoring me? Because you couldn’t even lie to my face without choking on it?”

“I didn’t mean—” she started, but I didn't let her finish.

“I swear to God, if I stay in this house one more second, I’m going to throw up.” My voice was shaking now, and tears had already begun to pool in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall in front of them.

I turned and rushed out the door. I stumbled into the car, slammed the door, and drove home on autopilot, blinded by tears I refused to wipe away until I was behind my own front door.

As soon as I stepped inside, the pain finally crashed through me in full force. I collapsed to the floor like my knees had given out, and I began to sob — loud, ugly, helpless sobs that came from some deep, hollow place inside me.

I lay there on the floor for hours, unable to move, letting the grief consume every last part of me.

Eventually, the tears stopped. Not because I felt better, but because my body simply could not cry anymore.

At some point, I forced myself to stand. My legs trembled beneath me, but I made my way down the hallway. I opened the closet door and stood there.

I reached up, took it down gently, and carried it to the bedroom. I sat on the floor, legs folded beneath me, and placed the box in front of me.

With trembling fingers, I peeled back the paper. It came away too easily. Inside were photographs — snapshots of me and Colin laughing, holding hands, on vacations, at home.

Beneath the photos were dried rose petals, soft and delicate. Then I noticed a glass jar nestled in the center of the box. A handwritten label curled around the glass: 100 Reasons I Love You.

My breath caught. I unscrewed the lid slowly, carefully, like it was sacred. Inside were tiny slips of paper, each one tightly rolled.

I picked one and unrolled it.

Just because you are you.

I opened another.

Just because you are you.

Another. And another. All the same. Over and over again. My throat tightened. Hot tears spilled over before I could stop them, sliding down my cheeks in quiet streams.

There was more in the box.

A plush anatomical heart — realistic and detailed — with a note pinned to it: My heart is forever yours. Then I noticed a zipper on the back. I unzipped it slowly. Inside was a small velvet box.

My hands began to shake. I knew what it was before I opened it, but still, when I flipped the lid, I gasped. A ring.

And then — a knock on the door. Firm. Desperate.

I stood slowly, still holding the box. I could hear footsteps on the porch and then Colin’s voice through the door.

“Please!” he shouted. “Please, just let me explain! It's not what you think!”

I opened the door.

He was standing there, eyes wide and wild and full of fear. “I didn’t cheat on you. I swear to you, I didn’t. Riley… she was helping me.”

“You… you wanted to propose to me?” My voice was barely audible.

His gaze dropped to my hands. He saw the box. “You opened it,” he said quietly.

I nodded, my eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I’m sorry, Colin. I should have trusted you. I should never have doubted you. I was stupid, and angry, and hurt— I let my fear get the better of me.”

He exhaled. “It really hurt, you know. To be accused of that. I don't know if I can forget that.”

“No, Colin. Please…”

He stepped forward, and gently took the box from my hands. Then, without saying a word, he dropped to one knee.

“Good thing I'll have a lifetime to figure it out,” he said. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” I sobbed. “Yes, yes, yes!”

He laughed, shaky and wet-eyed, and slipped the ring onto my finger with hands just as unsteady as mine. I kissed him — deeply, desperately — and he kissed me back like he'd been drowning and I was the air.

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