Matthew filed for divorce from Anne when she couldn’t give him a son, but he still lived in their house. One day, she met Harry, an old friend from school, and eventually realized how much better she was without Matthew. Years later, Anne accidentally ran into her ex-husband and couldn’t recognize him.
“Oh my God! Harry! It’s so nice to see you!” Anne exclaimed when she accidentally stumbled into her old school friend on the street. She had left her five girls with her mother, a rare break for her, and wanted to get a cup of coffee on the streets of Seattle.
“Anne, it’s lovely to see you too! Hey, would you want to get some coffee and catch up?” Harry answered, and she nodded immediately. They went into the café and chit-chatted until Harry asked about her family.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oh… that’s actually a difficult subject,” she began.
“Well, raising five children is not easy for anyone,” Harry commented, knowing a bit of her from social media and such.
“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray.
“Yeah, sure. That’s hard. But it’s more than that,” Anne continued. “Matthew changed after the birth of our twins. They’re 9 and they barely speak to their father. I think they’re scared of him.”
“I don’t understand,” Harry said.
“Matthew wanted a boy, and we hoped, but we had two beautiful girls instead. That’s why we got pregnant again and again, but we kept having girls. After our fifth daughter was born, Matthew became another man. He filed for divorce, and I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Anne explained about her husband, her hand wiping the sweat forming on her forehead.
“Wow. That’s rough. But think about this, you’ll be better off without him, right? I mean if he hasn’t been speaking to your eldest girls, then he couldn’t have been the best father to the rest. You already raised them on your own,” Harry encouraged. “And now that I’m in Seattle permanently, I could help. You could move in with me.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Anne’s jaw dropped. She didn’t expect such an offer from Harry, especially since they had just met again after many years. But she knew back in school that he always had a huge crush on her. Still, that offer was too generous and kind. She couldn’t accept it. She changed the subject, and they talked about his successful life.
Meanwhile, things at her house got even worse over the next few weeks. They were divorcing, but Matthew still lived with her, acting like he was single, partying, making noise at odd hours, waking the girls, and being a menace to them.
Anne would talk to Harry all the time, and his offer still stood. But when Matthew decided to bring a girl over to their marital home, Anne was done. She called Harry, packed, and left the house with all the girls.
Their divorce got more complicated when she took Matthew to court to get their big house back. Despite her living in Harry’s house, her soon-to-be ex-husband didn’t deserve to keep their big home. The judge granted her every request based on Matthew’s horrible lifestyle and gave her full custody without question.
Eventually, she and Harry fell in love, and he bought an even bigger home for their family. When she and the girls moved in with him, she put her house up for rent and stopped thinking about Matthew for many years.
***
A year after marrying Harry, Anne had their son, Alan, who was the most beautiful boy in the world, and he had five big sisters adoring him at every moment. Anne couldn’t have been happier.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
More time passed, and one day, she picked Alan up from preschool and decided to drop by the mall to buy him new shoes. The girls were busy with their extracurriculars, so it was only mother and son.
Anne never imagined she would run into Matthew there. He was working at the pretzel shop, in charge of distributing free samples at the mall, and Alan ran up to him asking for some.
“Alan, don’t run away from me like that,” she said to him before catching a glimpse of Matthew’s surprised eyes.
“Anne?”
“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray. It didn’t make sense. Matthew worked in an office as an executive. He earned a decent amount of money. He was required to pay tons in child support, but he never did, and Anne didn’t care. She had more than enough for her girls. But he wouldn’t be able to pay what was required with a minimum wage job at the mall.
“I’m working here,” he said and looked at the boy holding her with one hand and munching on a pretzel with the other. “Is this your son?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Yes, this is Alan,” Anne answered, feeling an intense pride that she had a son that wasn’t his. “He’s Harry’s kid.”
“Oh, nice to meet you, Alan,” Matthew said, looking down and giving the kid a weird look. Of course, it was not Anne’s fault that she gave birth to girls. The sperm determines the gender, and everyone knows that. But Matthew had decided to blame her for years and checked out of their marriage because he wanted a boy, as if gender was important at all.
Luckily, the girls now had an actual father figure, thanks to Harry, who loved them dearly from the first moment they met. They didn’t need him, and Anne never had to see him.
“Listen, Anne. I didn’t want to ask this now. I wanted to take you to coffee or something. But I’m desperate. I lost everything due to my lifestyle, and I was wondering if we could sell our old house,” Matthew asked, his head down in shame.
“Oh… well, it’s currently being rented. But I’ll think about it,” Anne said. “We have to go now. I’ll call you about the house.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
She grabbed Alan’s hand tightly and walked away from the man who didn’t know what he had thrown away. But she was going to be the bigger person. She sold the house and gave him half its worth, although legally, she could keep the entire thing. But something in her gut told her to do the right thing.
Eventually, Matthew asked to see the girls, but none of them wanted that. The twins were teenagers who grew to hate him, and the rest followed their big sisters’ footsteps. Matthew stopped asking about them and stopped calling after a while. They never saw him again. He wasn’t family.
What can we learn from this story?
- Family is more than just DNA. Matthew didn’t want to be a father to his children, and Harry stepped up for the girls.
- You might regret your actions. Matthew lost everything, including his high-paying job, and it was clear he regretted what he did, but he couldn’t take it back.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
I Was Looking At a Photo of My Late Wife and Me When Something Fell Out of the Frame and Made Me Go Pale
The day I buried Emily, all I had left were our photos and memories. But when something slipped from behind our engagement picture that night, my hands started shaking. What I discovered made me question if I’d ever really known my wife at all.
The funeral home had tied a black ribbon on our front door. I stared at it, my key suspended in the lock, wondering who’d thought that was necessary.
A black ribbon attached to a doorknob | Source: Midjourney
As if the neighbors didn’t already know that I’d been at the cemetery all afternoon, watching them lower my wife into the ground while Rev. Matthews talked about angels and eternal rest.
My hands shook as I finally got the door open. The house smelled wrong — like leather polish and sympathy casseroles.
Emily’s sister Jane had “helped” by cleaning while I was at the hospital during those final days. Now everything gleamed with an artificial brightness that made my teeth hurt.
A home entrance hallway | Source: Pexels
“Home sweet home, right, Em?” I called out automatically, then caught myself. The silence that answered felt like a physical blow.
I loosened my tie, the blue one Emily had bought me last Christmas, and kicked off my dress shoes. They hit the wall with dull thuds.
Emily would have scolded me for that, pressing her lips together in the way she had, trying not to smile while she lectured me about scuff marks.
A heartbroken man looking down | Source: Midjourney
“Sorry, honey,” I muttered, but I left the shoes where they lay.
Our bedroom was worse than the rest of the house. Jane had changed the sheets — probably trying to be kind — but the fresh linen smell just emphasized that Emily’s scent was gone.
The bed was made with hospital corners, every wrinkle smoothed away, erasing the casual mess that had been our life together.
“This isn’t real,” I said to the empty room. “This can’t be real.”
A bedroom | Source: Pexels
But it was. The sympathy cards on the dresser proved it, as did the pills on the nightstand that hadn’t been enough to save her in the end.
It had all happened so suddenly. Em got sick last year, but she fought it. Chemotherapy took an immense toll on her, but I was there to support her every step of the way. The cancer eventually went into remission.
We thought we’d won. Then a check-up showed it was back, and it was everywhere.
A couple staring grimly at each other | Source: Midjourney
Em fought like a puma right up until the end, but… but it was a losing battle. I could see that now.
I fell onto her side of the bed, not bothering to change out of my funeral clothes. The mattress didn’t even hold her shape anymore. Had Jane flipped it? The thought made me irrationally angry.
“Fifteen years,” I whispered into Emily’s pillow. “Fifteen years, and this is how it ends? A ribbon on the door and casseroles in the fridge?”
A heartbroken man | Source: Midjourney
My eyes landed on our engagement photo, the silver frame catching the late afternoon light. Emily looked so alive in it, her yellow sundress bright against the summer sky, her laugh caught mid-burst as I spun her around.
I grabbed it, needing to be closer to that moment and the joy we both felt then.
“Remember that day, Em? You said the camera would capture our souls. Said that’s why you hated having your picture taken, because—”
My fingers caught on something behind the frame.
A man holding a photo | Source: Midjourney
There was a bump under the backing that shouldn’t have been there.
I traced it again, frowning. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I pried the backing loose. Something slipped out, floating to the carpet like a fallen leaf.
My heart stopped.
It was another photograph, old and slightly curved as if it had been handled often before being hidden away.
A stunned man | Source: Midjourney
In the photo, Emily (God, she looked so young) was sitting in a hospital bed, cradling a newborn wrapped in a pink blanket.
Her face was different than I’d ever seen it: exhausted, and scared, but with a fierce love that took my breath away.
I couldn’t understand what I was looking at. Although we tried, Emily and I were never able to have kids, so whose baby was this?
A confused man | Source: Midjourney
With trembling fingers, I turned the photo over. Emily’s handwriting, but shakier than I knew it: “Mama will always love you.”
Below that was a phone number.
“What?” The word came out as a croak. “Emily, what is this?”
There was only one way to find out.
A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney
The phone felt heavy in my hand as I dialed, not caring that it was nearly midnight. Each ring echoed in my head like a church bell.
“Hello?” A woman answered, her voice warm but cautious.
“I’m sorry for calling so late.” My voice sounded strange to my ears. “My name is James. I… I just found a photograph of my wife Emily with a baby, and this number…”
The silence stretched so long I thought she’d hung up.
A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
“Oh,” she finally said, so softly I almost missed it. “Oh, James. I’ve been waiting for this call for years. It’s been ages since Emily got in touch.”
“Emily died.” The words tasted like ashes. “The funeral was today.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked with genuine grief. “I’m Sarah. I… I adopted Emily’s daughter, Lily.”
The room tilted sideways. I gripped the edge of the bed. “Daughter?”
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“She was nineteen,” Sarah explained gently. “A freshman in college. She knew she couldn’t give the baby the life she deserved. It was the hardest decision she ever made.”
“We tried for years to have children,” I said, anger suddenly blazing through my grief. “Years of treatments, specialists, disappointments. She never said a word about having a baby before me. Never.”
“She was terrified,” Sarah said. “Terrified you’d judge her, terrified you’d leave. She loved you so much, James. Sometimes love makes us do impossible things.”
A man on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
I closed my eyes, remembering her tears during fertility treatments, and how she’d grip my hand too tight whenever we passed playgrounds.
I’d assumed it was because we were both so desperate to have a child, but now I wondered how much of that came from longing for the daughter she gave up.
“Tell me about her,” I heard myself say. “Tell me about Lily.”
A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
Sarah’s voice brightened. “She’s twenty-five now. A kindergarten teacher, if you can believe it. She has Emily’s laugh, her way with people. She’s always known she was adopted, and she knows about Emily. Would… would you like to meet her?”
“Of course!” I replied.
The next morning, I sat in a corner booth at a café, too nervous to touch my coffee. The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up.
It was like being punched in the chest.
A man in a coffeeshop | Source: Midjourney
She had Emily’s eyes and her smile. She even tucked her hair behind her ear like Em would’ve as she scanned the room. When our gazes met, we both knew.
“James?” Her voice wavered.
I stood, nearly knocking over my chair. “Lily.”
She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around me like she’d been waiting her whole life to do it. I held her close, breathing in the scent of her shampoo — lavender, just like Emily’s had been.
Two people hugging | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered against my shoulder. “When Mom called this morning… I’ve always wondered about you, about what kind of man my mother married.”
We spent hours talking. She showed me pictures on her phone of her college graduation, her first classroom, and her cat. I told her stories about Emily, our life together, and the woman her mother became.
“She used to send Mom birthday cards for me every year,” Lily revealed, wiping tears from her eyes.
A woman in a coffeeshop smiling sadly | Source: Midjourney
“We never spoke, but Mom told me she used to call now and then to ask how I was doing.”
Looking at this beautiful, brilliant young woman who had Emily’s kindness shining in her eyes, I began to understand Emily’s secret differently.
It wasn’t just shame or fear that had kept her quiet. She’d been protecting Lily by letting her have a safe, stable life with Sarah. It must have hurt Em deeply to keep this secret, but she’d done it out of love for her child.
A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney
“I wish I’d known sooner,” I said, reaching for Lily’s hand. “But I think I understand why she never told me. I’m so sorry you can’t get to know her, but I want you to know, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”
Lily squeezed my fingers. “Do you think… could we maybe do this again? Get to know each other better?”
“I’d like that,” I said, feeling something warm bloom in my chest for the first time since Emily’s death. “I’d like that very much.”
A man smiling in a coffeeshop | Source: Midjourney
That night, I placed the hidden photo next to our engagement picture on the nightstand.
Emily smiled at me from both frames — young and old, before and after, always with love in her eyes. I touched her face through the glass.
“You did good, Em,” I whispered. “You did real good. And I promise you, I’ll do right by her. By both of you.”
Here’s another story: When a proud father stumbles upon unexpected footage from his daughter’s bachelorette party, his excitement for her wedding turns into heartbreak. Feeling like their bond has been shattered, he refuses to walk her down the aisle.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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