When I got sick, I finally saw a side to my husband that I didn’t like. He abandoned me and our newborn baby because he didn’t want to step up and be a good father and husband, so I played along. But I came out on top!
I’m 30, married to a man named Drew who’s 33, and we have a six-month-old baby girl named Sadie. She’s the light of my life—a smile like sunshine, chubby cheeks, and the sweetest little giggle. But apparently, all of that was just a minor inconvenience to my husband when I got sick.
A sickly woman | Source: Midjourney
Let me tell you what happened. Strap in, because it still feels like a fever dream, and not just because I had a fever when it all started. This all occurred about a month ago. I’d caught some brutal virus. Not COVID-19, not RSV, but something gnarly.
I mean, this thing came with body aches, chills, and a cough that made my ribs feel like they were being punched from the inside! The worst part? Sadie had just gotten over a cold herself, so I was already drained.
A cute baby | Source: Midjourney
At this point, I was sleep-deprived, sick, and trying to take care of a baby who was still clingy from her own recovery. Strangely, Drew had been acting weird for weeks, even before I got sick. He was distant.
Always on his phone, chuckling at things he wouldn’t share. When I’d ask what was so funny, he’d just shrug and say, “It’s work stuff.” His fuse was short, too. He snapped over stupid things—the dishes in the sink and my forgetting to defrost the chicken.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
My husband also kept commenting on how tired I looked. “You always seem exhausted,” he said one night while I rocked Sadie in my arms and tried to suppress a cough.
“Well, yeah, duh. I’m raising a human,” I replied with a tinge of annoyance.
I thought maybe, just maybe, this illness would snap him out of it. I hoped he’d see me struggling and finally step up. Pick up the slack. Be the man I married.
Boy, was I wrong!
A sickly woman struggling with a baby | Source: Midjourney
The night my fever hit 102.4, I could barely sit up! My hair was stuck to my forehead, my skin burned, and my whole body ached like I’d been hit by a truck! I looked at him and, with all the strength I could muster, I whispered, “Can you please take Sadie? I just need to lie down for 20 minutes.”
He didn’t even blink. “I can’t. Your cough is keeping me up. I NEED SLEEP. I think I’m gonna stay at my mom’s for a few nights.”
I actually laughed—not because it was funny, but because it was so absurd I thought he had to be joking!
He wasn’t.
A sickly woman laughing while holding her baby | Source: Midjourney
He actually got up, packed a duffel bag, kissed Sadie on the head—not me—and walked out. All the while, I kept asking him, “Are you serious right now? You’re really leaving?” And he just nodded his head and said nothing.
He didn’t even bother asking how Sadie would be taken care of while I could barely stand! After he left, I sat on the couch holding her while she cried from being overtired and hungry. I stared at the door. My phone buzzed a few minutes later after I texted him.
A woman holding a baby and texting | Source: Midjourney
“You’re seriously leaving me here sick and alone with the baby?” I had texted, still in disbelief.
“You’re the mom. You know how to handle this stuff better than me. I’d just get in the way. Plus, I’m exhausted and your cough is unbearable.”
I read that text five times and stared at it in shock! My hands were shaking, whether from the fever or the rage, I’ll never know! I couldn’t believe that this man, who was supposed to be my life partner, thought my cough was too much of a hindrance than staying and helping with OUR child while I was clearly sick!?
FINE!
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I somehow made it through the weekend. I barely ate. I cried in the shower when Sadie finally napped. I kept her alive on nothing but Tylenol, willpower, and instinct. And during that time, Drew didn’t check in, not once!
I couldn’t rely on family because they were hours away, and although my friends popped in and called now and then, they were too busy, out of town, or had some other reason. The whole time I was burning up in bed, one idea kept playing in my mind: I need to show this man what it feels like to be completely abandoned.
So I did.
A serious and determined woman | Source: Midjourney
I started devising my plan. I figured if he thought being sick and then abandoned wasn’t a big deal, I was going to give him an idea of what it felt like. By the time I felt somewhat human again, with no fever, still coughing but functional, I knew exactly what I was going to do.
So a week later, I texted him.
“Hey babe. I’m feeling much better now. You can come home.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Thank God! I’ve barely slept here. Mom’s dog snores and she keeps asking me to help with yard work.”
Yard work. Poor baby. Imagine that.
A happy man texting | Source: Midjourney
Ahead of his return, I cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom, prepped Sadie’s bottles and food, and even made Drew’s favorite dinner, spaghetti carbonara with garlic bread from scratch. I showered, put on makeup for the first time in two weeks, and wore jeans that didn’t scream “I’ve been up every two hours with a baby.”
When he walked in, he looked around like everything was back to normal. He was smiling, looking relaxed, ate like a king, burped, and then collapsed onto the couch with his phone! He barely said a word to me about the week I had endured!
A happy man using his phone | Source: Midjourney
A few minutes into his relaxation time, I finally struck!
“Hey,” I said sweetly, “Can you hold Sadie for a sec? I need to grab something upstairs.”
“Sure,” he muttered after sighing and rolling his eyes. He kept scrolling TikTok with one hand and held her with the other.
I came down five minutes later with my small suitcase and my car keys. Sadie was smiling and babbling in his lap.
Noticing the movement, he blinked. “What’s that?”
“I booked a weekend spa retreat,” I said, calm as can be. “Massage, facial, room service. I just need some rest.”
He sat up, confused. “Wait, you’re going now?!”
A shocked man holding a baby | Source: Midjourney
“Yep. Just two nights. I left instructions. Bottles are labeled and her toys are there. Diapers and wipes are stocked. Emergency numbers are on the fridge. I got lots of groceries. Everything’s good. Unlike you, I actually planned ahead for you. Besides, you’re the dad. You know how to handle this stuff.”
“Claire, I don’t know what to—” he started.
I raised a hand. “No, no. Your words last week, remember? ‘You’re the mom. You know how to handle this stuff better than me.’ Now it’s your turn.”
A woman leaving with luggage | Source: Midjourney
He seemed gobsmacked for a few seconds before he said, “Wait—Claire, c’mon. You can’t just—”
“I can. I am. You abandoned me when I needed you most. So now you’ll see what it’s like to carry everything alone. Don’t call unless it’s a real emergency. And no pawning her off on your mom. You’re the dad. Figure it out.”
He just stared at me with his eyes wide. I don’t think he was processing what was happening.
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“You wanted sleep? Good luck getting any. Bye-bye, dear. I’ll be back Sunday night!”
And then I walked out. I didn’t slam the door. I didn’t cry in the car. I drove 45 minutes to a beautiful, tranquil, and quiet little inn with a spa and free chocolate chip cookies in the lobby.
That day, I vowed not to answer any calls or texts. I figured if there was a real issue, Drew could get in touch with his mother or take Sadie to the hospital. I even ignored the first wave of panicked voicemails and FaceTime attempts.
A woman relaxing at a spa | Source: Midjourney
Instead, I had a 90-minute massage, took naps, read by the fireplace, got a pedicure, and watched trashy reality shows in a fluffy robe. Bliss!
Saturday? Slept in until 9 a.m., got a facial, and ate a warm croissant while reading a book by the fire.
He did call twice. Left two voicemails. One was mild panic. The other was an attempt to guilt-trip me.
“Claire, Sadie won’t nap. I don’t know how you do this. She spit up on me twice. Please call back.”
I didn’t.
A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
But I did FaceTime that evening because, despite everything, I missed my daughter, and unlike him, I still really loved him.
When the screen lit up, Drew looked like he’d aged 10 years. Sadie was in his arms, hair a mess, chewing on his hoodie string. Her diaper looked… full.
“Hey, Sadie-bug,” I said, my voice softening. “Mommy misses you.”
She smiled. Reached for the screen. Drew looked like he wanted to melt.
“Claire,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t realize how hard this is!”
No kidding!
I nodded. “I know.”
A woman on her phone | Source: Midjourney
Sunday evening, I came home to a war zone! Toys everywhere. Dirty bottles in the sink. Drew was still in the same shirt from the day before, his eyes sunken, hair sticking up like a cartoon scientist!
Sadie squealed and giggled when she saw me! I scooped her up and kissed her all over! She smelled like baby wipes and panic, but was fine, maybe a little clingy.
A happy woman carrying her child | Source: Midjourney
Drew just looked at me like he was seeing a goddess with infinite powers—exhausted and ashamed.
“I get it now,” he whispered. “I really do.”
“Do you?” I asked.
He nodded. “I messed up.”
I pulled out a folded paper from my purse and placed it on the table. Don’t get excited, it wasn’t divorce papers, at least, not yet. He looked down like a deer caught in headlights, probably thinking the papers were the end of our marriage.
A shocked man looking at a list | Source: Midjourney
But it was a list. A schedule. Morning duties, nighttime feedings, grocery runs, laundry, baths. His name was next to half of them.
“You don’t get to tap out anymore,” I told him. “I need a partner. Not a third child.”
He nodded, slowly. “Okay. I’m in.”
To his credit, he has been trying. He wakes up when Sadie cries at night. He makes her bottles and finally managed to change her diaper without gagging! He even learned to swaddle her without watching a tutorial!
A happy man holding his swaddled child | Source: Midjourney
But I’m not stupid. I’m not rushing to forgive him. I’m still watching. Still deciding.
But at least now, he knows: love doesn’t mean allowing someone to walk all over you, and I’m not the type of woman you leave behind when things get tough.
I’m the woman who makes sure you never, ever forget it.
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
In the following story, a woman was thrilled when her boyfriend proposed but, his mother quickly shut down any idea of them actually getting married. To cut a long story short, the jilted woman didn’t take the slight lying down and got revenge in the best way possible!
A Man in Our Restaurant Shamed His Girlfriend for Being ‘Smart’ & Corrected Her Every Word – So, I Stepped In
As a waitress, I’ve heard countless mispronunciations of our international menu. But when I overheard Andrew “correcting” his girlfriend Amanda’s flawless Italian, German, and Mandarin, I just had to say something.
The Friday night rush at Flavors of the World restaurant always kept me on my toes. As a waitress, I loved the hustle and bustle, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of conversation.
But what I enjoyed most was listening to the diverse languages spoken by our patrons as they ordered from our international menu.
A waitress serving drinks at a restaurant | Source: Pexels
One couple in particular caught my attention: Amanda and Andrew. They were regulars, who came in every Friday without fail.
Amanda had her bright eyes and a gentle demeanor. She always impressed me with her linguistic abilities.
She’d order dishes in their native tongues, and her pronunciation was spot-on whether it was Mandarin, Spanish, Italian, or German.
“Buonasera [Good evening],” Amanda greeted me one evening. “Potrei avere gli gnocchi alla sorrentina, per favore [could I have the gnocchi alla sorrentina, please]?”
A plate of gnocchi | Source: Pexels
I smiled, appreciating her flawless Italian. “Certamente, signora. Ottima scelta [Certainly, ma’am. Excellent choice]!”
Andrew, on the other hand, was a different story. Tall and conventionally handsome, he carried himself with an air of superiority that set my teeth on edge.
Every time Amanda spoke, he’d interrupt, “correcting” her pronunciations with his own butchered versions.
A woman looking sad at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“It’s not ‘nyocky,’” he’d say, rolling his eyes. “It’s ‘guh-nocky.’ Honestly, Amanda, you sound ridiculous.”
I’d bite my tongue, not wanting to be rude and possibly reduce my tip.
Amanda would always shrink a little at his words. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I thought –”
“No, you didn’t think,” he’d cut her off. “Just order like a normal person next time, okay?”
An angry looking man at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
This pattern repeated week after week. Amanda would order beautifully in whatever language the dish originated from, and Andrew would belittle her efforts.
“Ich hätte gerne das Wiener Schnitzel, bitte [I would like the Wiener Schnitzel, please],” Amanda said one night in impeccable German.
“It’s ‘weiner snitchel,’ Amanda,” Andrew scoffed, bothering the name of the typical Austrian dish. “Stop trying to sound fancy.”
A plate of Wiener Schnitzel | Source: Pexels
I watched as Amanda’s confidence dwindled with each passing week, and it broke my heart to see such talent and passion being stifled.
This particular Friday was different for some reason.
Amanda’s usual smile was strained as she and Andrew walked in. But I quickly realized why.
Behind them trailed an older couple I hadn’t seen before, but the family resemblance was clear. Andrew’s parents.
An older couple walking into a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I approached their table with a notepad in hand. “Good evening, folks. What can I get you tonight?”
Amanda glanced at the menu, then at Andrew, before speaking softly. “I’ll have the pho ga, please.”
“It’s ‘foe guh,’ Amanda. God, do you have to be so pretentious all the time?”
Amanda’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, I just –”
An upset woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t mind her,” Andrew cut in, addressing his parents. “She thinks she’s so smart, always showing off.”
His mother tutted sympathetically. “Oh, sweetie,” she said to Amanda, “are you always such a bragger? Can’t you speak normally?”
I gripped my pen tighter and felt my knuckles whitening. Amanda looked like she wanted to disappear.
Andrew leaned into her ear but whispered loud enough for me to hear. “Stop shaming me. Talk like a normal person.”
A man at a restaurant leaning close to a woman | Source: Midjourney
When tears welled in Amanda’s eyes, I knew I couldn’t stand by any longer.
“Nín hǎo [Hello],” I said, addressing Andrew in Mandarin. “Qǐng bùyào rúcǐ cūlǔ de duìdài nín de nǚpéngyǒu [Please do not treat your girlfriend so rudely].”
Andrew’s jaw dropped. Amanda’s head snapped up, surprise replacing the hurt in her eyes.
“Xièxiè nǐ [Thank you],” Amanda replied, her Mandarin flowing smoothly. “Zhè duì wǒ yìyì zhòngdà [This means a lot to me].”
A woman at a restaurant looking up and smiling | Source: Midjourney
Andrew and his parents exchanged bewildered glances. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “What are you saying?”
“Oh, I was just asking you not to treat your girlfriend so rudely. And Amanda was thanking me, saying it means a lot to her,” I answered sweetly.
“I don’t believe you!” he accused me. “You’re making that up. You’re insulting us!”
“Son,” his father interjected, “maybe you should –”
An older man looking upset at a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“No!” Andrew slammed his hand on the table. “She’s lying. She has to be. Amanda, what did she say?”
Amanda sat up straighter, and her eyes sparkled. Something had changed. “She’s not lying, Andrew. And neither am I when I pronounce words correctly in other languages.”
“But… but I thought…” Andrew sputtered.
A man confused and surprised at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“You thought wrong,” Amanda said firmly. “I’ve spent years studying languages. Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t make it wrong or shameful.”
“So what, you’re some kind of genius now? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No,” Amanda replied. “I’m just someone who loves languages and has worked hard to learn them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
A notebook and a book with notes on learning Spanish | Source: Pexels
Andrew’s mother chimed in, obviously embarrassed by the scene they were causing. “Sweetie, don’t you think it’s a bit… much? Always showing off like this?”
“It’s not showing off to use the skills you’ve worked hard to acquire” Amanda retorted. “Would you say the same thing to a musician playing an instrument well?”
“Well, I… that’s different.”
“How?” Amanda challenged. “How is it different?”
A woman with a raised eyebrow at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Andrew’s father cleared his throat. “Now, let’s all calm down. I’m sure we can-“
“No, Dad,” Andrew cut in. “I want to hear this. Go on, Amanda. Tell us how smart you are.”
I watched in anticipation as Amanda took a deep breath. “This isn’t about being smart or bragging! It’s about respect. Respect for other cultures, for the effort people put into learning, and for me as a person.”
A smiling waitress | Source: Pexels
“Respect?” Andrew scoffed. “What about respecting me? Do you know how embarrassing it is when you start spouting off in some foreign language?”
“Embarrassing for whom?” Amanda shot back. “For you? Because you can’t understand it? Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, the problem isn’t with me speaking other languages but with your reaction to it?”
The restaurant had grown quiet as other diners watched the scene unfold. Andrew’s mother cleared her throat awkwardly. “Perhaps we should go somewhere else.”
A busy restaurant | Source: Pexels
“I think that’s a good idea,” Amanda agreed and stood. “And I’ll be going home. Alone!” She turned to me. “Thank you for your kindness. Grazie mille. Danke schön. Muchas gracias!”
With that, she walked out and held her head high. I smiled and waited.
Andrew and his parents shuffled out soon after with their tails between their legs.
A restaurant door | Source: Pexels
The following Friday, I was surprised to see Amanda walk in alone. She looked different, somehow lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Table for one?” I asked.
She nodded, smiling. “Yes, please. And I’d love to chat if you have a moment.”
Once I’d seated her and taken her order, I pulled up a chair. “How are you doing?”
A seated woman smiling | Source: Pexels
“Better than I have in a long time,” Amanda admitted. “I broke up with Andrew the day after… well, you know.”
I nodded encouragingly. “That must have been tough.”
“It was, but it was also liberating. I realized I’d been living in fear of his judgment for so long. When I told him it was over, he couldn’t believe it.”
“What did he say?” I asked, curious.
A blonde woman smiling | Source: Pexels
“He said, ‘You’re making a mistake, Amanda. Who’s going to put up with your show-off behavior?’ Can you believe that?” Amanda shook her head. “I told him, ‘Someone who appreciates intelligence and curiosity! Someone unlike you.’”
I grinned. “Good for you! How did that feel?”
“Terrifying and exhilarating all at once,” Amanda laughed. “But you know what? Your intervention made me realize how much I’d been diminishing myself to make him comfortable. I’d forgotten how much joy I found in languages, and in learning about different cultures. I’d let him convince me it was something to be ashamed of.”
A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“I’m glad I could help,” I said. “No one should make you feel small for being passionate about something.”
Amanda’s eyes shone. “Absolutely. And you know what? I’ve decided to apply for a job as a translator. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do but never dared to pursue.”
“That’s fantastic!” I exclaimed. “Where are you applying?”
A blonde woman at a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“There’s an international non-profit organization that works with refugees. They need translators who can speak multiple languages fluently. It’s perfect for me.”
As we continued talking, switching between languages with ease, I marveled at the change in Amanda. She radiated confidence and enthusiasm, and just because I stepped in at last.
When it was time for me to get back to work, Amanda reached out and squeezed my hand. “Thank you again. For everything.”
Hand shake at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I squeezed back. “Anytime and good luck!”
Sometimes, all it takes is one small act of kindness to help someone find their self-confidence again. And in a world full of different languages and cultures, all voices deserve to be heard, loud and clear.
A smiling woman at an office | Source: Midjourney
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