Silence stretched on the line before Aiden finally choked out a response, his voice raspy with suppressed panic.
"Tess, something urgent just came up. I have to go."
The line went dead. Almost instantly, a notification pinged from my Mercari app.
Buyer: "Hey! Are you there? It's urgent!"
Buyer: "Do you still have the shoes you just bought? Don't open the box! I'll pay extra to buy them back! $1,000? $2,000? Name your price!"
Buyer: "Please!"
I took my time, typing out a slow, deliberate response.
Me: "Just finished dinner. Was about to open it. Why?"
The reply came instantly.
Buyer: "Don't open it! There's something extremely personal inside!"
Me: "Like what?"
The typing indicator pulsed for a long time. Finally, a paragraph appeared.
Buyer: "Those shoes were actually a New Year's gift from my girlfriend. I forgot her handwritten letter is still inside the box. It's not worth any money, but it means the world to me. If she finds out I sold the shoes along with the letter, she'll dump me for sure. Please, do a good deed. Send them back. I'll give you $1,500, okay?"
I stared at the words "handwritten letter" and let out a cold laugh.
First, he claimed a friend gave them to him. Now, a girlfriend. He lied as easily as he breathed.
I decided to let him sweat and didn't reply. As expected, his anxiety spiked.
Buyer: "Why aren't you answering? I said I'd add money!"
Buyer: "Give me your address. I'll come pick it up right now!"
Buyer: "If you don't reply, I'm calling the police!"
The police?
I selected a screenshot from our earlier conversation—the one where he arrogantly declared, Whether the item is good or bad is none of my business—and hit send.
Me: "Call the police? You said it yourself: once sold, it has nothing to do with you. Now you regret it? Selling a gift your girlfriend gave you... you must be desperate for cash. I honestly feel sorry for that girl."
The typing bubble flickered on and off for a solid minute. He was struggling. Finally, he forced out a single sentence.
Buyer: "How much do you want to return it?"
I typed: "Five thousand dollars."
I expected him to lose his mind. Curses, threats, aggressive bargaining.
Instead, the response came within a second.
Buyer: "Deal! Five thousand!"
I raised an eyebrow. That imaginary $50,000 Patek Philippe really had him losing all reason. He was willing to bleed $5,000 just for the chance to retrieve a fortune he thought he'd accidentally discarded.
I created a new listing for the "Special Item," and Aiden bought it instantly.
The payment notification cleared. Messages flooded in.
Buyer: "Send a courier now! Same-day delivery!"
Buyer: "Pack it carefully! Do not damage the box!"
I had my best friend's family driver arrange a courier. Camera rolling, I placed the shoebox back into the shipping bag exactly as I'd received it—unopened—and sealed the package.
I sent the video to Aiden.
Me: "Shipped. Confirm receipt when you get it."
Buyer: "Okay."
Once the runner sped off, I switched to WhatsApp to play the oblivious girlfriend.
Me: "Honey, did you find the watch?"
Me: "Do you like the style? If not, we can exchange it."
Me: "Why aren't you replying? Busy?"
Radio silence. He didn't read a single message.
An hour later, the courier marked the package as Delivered.
My Mercari backend chimed: Transaction Successful. The $5,000 was mine.
Almost simultaneously, a WhatsApp message from Aiden popped up.
Aiden: "Baby, I found the watch! It's stunning! Suits me perfectly. Thank you so much! Love you!"
I smirked at the screen.
He hadn't opened the box yet. Just trying to keep me calm while he retrieved his "treasure."
Unfortunately for him, that calm lasted exactly ten seconds.
My Mercari inbox exploded.
