A Stranger’s Note on My Husband’s Car Made Me Call My Lawyer

A Stranger’s Note on My Husband’s Car Made Me Call My Lawyer

When Sierra is in mom-mode, trying to get her kids off to school, she finds a sticky note on her husband’s car that makes her question where he had been the entire weekend. Wanting answers, she phones the number on the note and slowly, secrets unravel with her marriage.

It was a typical Monday morning. I was in my mom zone, trying to get the kids off to school on time. That’s when a piece of pink paper changed everything.

A close-up of smiling children | Pexels

A close-up of smiling children | Pexels

I had just put the kids into the car and was about to put their lunch bags and backpacks in with them when I saw the bright pink sticky note plastered on the trunk of my husband’s car.

I paused, my heart pounding, and walked over to read it.

A pink sticky note on a car | Source: Midjourney

A pink sticky note on a car | Source: Midjourney

“Sit tight,” I told the kids. “I’m coming now! I just want to see what’s on Dad’s car.”

“Okay, Mom,” Natasha shouted from the backseat.

Children sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

Children sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

Sorry, I scratched your car last night. You shouldn’t park on the street though! -Neighbor from 283. This is my number in case you need anything!

Confusion and nausea washed over me. We don’t live near a house with that number, and my husband, Thomas, always parked in our garage.

A woman reading a sticky note | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a sticky note | Source: Midjourney

“What was it?” my daughter asked when I slid into the driver’s seat.

“Nothing, honey,” I said. “Just a piece of paper that got stuck on Dad’s car.”

A woman in the driver's seat | Source: Unsplash

A woman in the driver’s seat | Source: Unsplash

Tom had just returned from a business trip this morning, so his car should have been parked at the airport the entire weekend.

My mind raced, and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach.

I knew that something was about to change.

A man wearing a suit | Source: Unsplash

A man wearing a suit | Source: Unsplash

“Enjoy your day, babies!” I said as the kids got out of the car at drop-off.

“Don’t forget, we have to make cookies for school tomorrow,” Natasha reminded me. “We need like sixty cookies, Mom.”

I left the kids and drove to the grocery store, needing to get everything for the cookies that we needed to bake.

An aisle in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

An aisle in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

“Can I help you, ma’am?” a young woman asked me as I walked up and down the baking aisle. She tied the grocery store’s apron tightly onto her.

“No, thank you,” I said absentmindedly. “I’m just browsing.”

A person tying an apron | Source: Pexels

A person tying an apron | Source: Pexels

But my mind just couldn’t stay focused at all. What was Thomas playing at?

I filled up the cart as I went up and down the aisle, getting enough ingredients for everything we needed and then paid.

Then, I decided to call Thomas and just check in.

A woman holding a phone and a card | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a phone and a card | Source: Pexels

“Hi, honey,” I said the moment he picked up.

“Hey, Sierra,” he said. “Are you okay? I’m just getting into a meeting now. I’ll speak to you later.”

And he cut the call.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

“What on earth is going on?” I said aloud as I picked up gummy worms for Jake, my son.

Later, I picked up the kids and made toasted sandwiches while Natasha and I baked for her class.

A child holding a plate of toast | Source: Pexels

A child holding a plate of toast | Source: Pexels

“Is everything okay, Mom?” Natasha asked, mixing in the chocolate chips. “You’re not helping Jake with homework.”

“Everything is fine,” I said, turning my focus back to my children.

Chocolate chips in a container | Source: Pexels

Chocolate chips in a container | Source: Pexels

But still, my mind raced and I couldn’t shut it off. I was distracted and unable to stop the conspiracies that plagued my mind.

That evening, after tucking the kids into bed, I dialed the number on the note. The phone rang twice before a cheerful voice answered.

A little girl tucked in bed | Source: Pexels

A little girl tucked in bed | Source: Pexels

“Hello, is this house 283?” I asked, nervously.

“Yes!” the woman said. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Sierra,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I found your note on my husband’s car this morning. Can you tell me more about the incident?”

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

There was a brief pause.

“Oh, yes, I’m Jane. I’m really sorry about that. I accidentally scratched his car when I was parking last night. I live at 283 Elm Street. Are you new to the neighborhood?”

My heart pounded.

“No, no,” I said. “I’m sure Thomas was just visiting a friend. Don’t worry about the scratch, I saw the car. It’s all good!”

A parked car | Source: Pexels

A parked car | Source: Pexels

“Oh, are you sure?” she asked. “I’m sure that the insurance will cover it.”

“I’m sure,” I said, turning to look out the window. “But can you tell me where exactly he was parked?”

There was silence for a moment.

When Jane spoke, her voice was softer.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Pixabay

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Pixabay

“He was parked right outside my house. There’s a small park across the street, and next to it, is a woman’s house. I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thank you, Jane,” I said.

I hung up, my mind reeling. Thomas had lied to me. He wasn’t on a business trip. He hadn’t even left the car at the airport.

A house with a garden | Source: Midjourney

A house with a garden | Source: Midjourney

Instead, he was at some woman’s house.

I didn’t want to confront my husband yet. I needed proof first. So, I got into bed beside him and forced myself to fall asleep.

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Unsplash

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Unsplash

The next morning, I gave the kids cereal for breakfast while trying to decide my next move.

After dropping them off at school, I drove to Elm Street. According to the GPS, it was about twenty minutes away from me. I looked for the park and the house next door.

Bowls of cereal | Source: Midjourney

Bowls of cereal | Source: Midjourney

Before doing anything else, I knocked on the door. A few moments later, a woman in her thirties opened the door.

“Hi, can I help you?” she asked.

“My name is Sierra,” I said. “I believe my husband, Thomas, was with you this weekend?”

Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

A white front door | Source: Midjourney

A white front door | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, my God. I had no idea he was married. Please, come in. I’m Mary.”

My heart ached, and my wedding ring seemed to get tighter around my finger.

“He didn’t mention us? His family?” I asked.

Mary shook her head.

A woman hiding her face | Source: Unsplash

A woman hiding her face | Source: Unsplash

“No, he told me he was single. We met at a local market, and we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now. But he did say that work has been hectic recently. So we haven’t seen each other very often.”

“Mary, I need your help. I need evidence of his infidelity for my divorce lawyer. I can’t stay married to a man like this, especially with my kids. Can you help me?”

People at a farmer's market | Source: Unsplash

People at a farmer’s market | Source: Unsplash

Mary looked at me with determination.

“Of course,” she said. “We need to catch him in the act.”

Later that evening, Mary was going to text Thomas and invite him over. She told him that she really wanted them to have dinner together at home.

“I’ll tell him that I cooked,” she told me as I left her home. “That usually gets him here.”

A homecooked meal | Source: Midjourney

A homecooked meal | Source: Midjourney

I left the kids with my mother and drove to Mary’s house, ready to catch Thomas in the act. When he arrived, Mary kissed him at the door.

My stomach turned, but I snapped the picture anyway. Then, I stepped out of my hiding place.

“Thomas,” I demanded. “What the hell is this?”

His face turned pale.

A couple embracing | Source: Unsplash

A couple embracing | Source: Unsplash

“Sierra, what are you doing here?”

Mary crossed her arms, glaring at him.

“You lied to both of us, Thomas,” she said. “How could you? And you have children?”

He stammered, trying to find the right words, but there were none.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he finally managed to say.

“Save it,” I said, holding my camera. “I have all the proof I need. I’m ready to file for divorce.”

A close-up of a camera | Source: Unsplash

A close-up of a camera | Source: Unsplash

“Sierra, please,” he said, trying to follow me to the car.

I brushed him off and got in, ready to head home to my children.

In the following weeks, Mary and I became unlikely friends, bonded by our shared betrayal. The most surprising thing was how quickly my children got attached to her.

On the day that the papers were finally signed, I felt the biggest sense of relief and empowerment.

Two woman sitting together | Source: Unsplash

Two woman sitting together | Source: Unsplash

Sure, my heart was broken, and so was my home. But as I was trying to fix myself, my children stepped in, ready to fill my life with the joy that only children can.

As for Thomas? He moved back in with his parents. He didn’t even put up a fight to make things better.

Two smiling children | Source: Pexels

Two smiling children | Source: Pexels

What would you have done?

Man Kicked Pregnant Woman out – Story of the Day

I was so thrilled to reveal our pear-sized growing baby to my boyfriend, thinking he would be delighted with a surprise party and the ultrasound images. Instead, he threw me out of his house and the last person I imagined was right there for me.

The doorbell’s bright chime disrupted my excited anticipation. I smoothed the baby blue tablecloth and set down the ultrasound scans on the coffee table, displaying them proudly. After four months, Miles was returning from pursuing his football dreams.

He was coming home to a surprise. As he entered, sweat-streaked and weary, his eyes fixed on the swell beneath my dress. I was pregnant, but my excited anticipation faded under his intense gaze.

“Miles, we’re having a baby,” I stated, my voice wavering.

“I never wanted to be a father, Bella,” he scoffed. “You’re ruining everything!

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Suddenly, I noticed his friend, Dave, standing right behind him. He spoke up from the doorway. “Stop yelling at her, man.”

“This is none of your business, Dave!” Miles snapped back and slammed the door in his friend’s face.

I clutched my belly protectively as tears blurred my vision. “I want this child, Miles. It’s part of us,” I insisted.

“I can’t deal with a baby now, Annabelle. It’s your problem if you keep it,” he shook his head.

“But I thought you loved me,” I whispered.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

“That’s not enough. Love doesn’t win championships,” he retorted. “It’s the baby or me. You choose.”

“I won’t give up our child,” I declared, strength rising within me.

“Then leave my house—and my life!” he demanded, his eyes unyielding.

With a protective resolve for my unborn child, I packed my things and left, knowing I could never choose Miles over this new life.

Snowflakes spiraled under the streetlamp’s glow as I struggled with disbelief. Miles’ betrayal echoed in my mind, shattering my dreams for the future. I sat on a snow-draped step, cradling my belly, feeling utterly alone.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Echoes of my lonely past – growing up in an orphanage and never making familial connections – loomed over me. But out of nowhere, Dave appeared, his concern etched in the snow-melted paths on his face.

“Annabelle, come with me until you figure things out,” he offered, kneeling to look into my eyes.

I hesitated, pride warring with desperation. “I can’t, Dave. I don’t want your pity.”

His earnest plea broke through my resolve as a sudden pain clenched my abdomen. “You need a safe place. Let’s go,” Dave insisted.

Reluctantly, I acquiesced, guided more by necessity than choice, and we drove through the blizzard to his cozy, cluttered home. It was such a different atmosphere than what I’d known with Miles, filled with warmth and haphazard charm.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Mismatched furniture and overflowing bookshelves spoke of a life well-lived.

“Thank you,” I murmured, grateful yet overwhelmed.

While I settled in, Dave fumbled with hospitality, offering me food and insisting on my comfort. Dinner was simple but nurturing, and it brought a semblance of peace. But when Dave told me he was sleeping on the couch, I had to protest.

“I’m not a burden, Dave. You should be comfortable in your own home,” I shook my head.

“It’s fine, Annabelle. Rest now. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

***

I lay in Dave’s guest room, struggling against the haunting memory of Miles’ indifferent gaze. Sleep eventually claimed me after several hours of sifting through painful thoughts and tears.

A week later, the rhythm of life with Dave brought a semblance of normalcy. He was ever considerate, his kindness so different from what I knew with my ex. However, I had to fend for myself.

One crisp morning, after Dave left for work, I slipped out with a heavy heart. I’d taken a supermarket delivery job, so I wouldn’t burden him with more of my troubles.

But the job proved harder than I imagined. Trudging through the snow, the weight of groceries, and my growing discomfort only made things harder. Also, I should’ve known Dave would try to find me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Suddenly, his car pulled alongside me on a busy sidewalk. His expression was full of worry and astonishment.

“Annabelle, why are you working like this?” he asked.

Trying to downplay my efforts, I mentioned needing the job for my prenatal needs. Dave frowned and shook his head angrily, but I know it stemmed from care and concern.

“I can’t just sit around, Dave. I need to prepare for the baby,” I continued, my resolve firm.

He sighed, leading me to the back of his car. “Let me show you something,” he said, opening the trunk and revealing a collection of maternity essentials. I began crying, overwhelmed by his thoughtful preparation.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

“Why all this, Dave?” I inquired through the tears.

“It’s for you and the little one,” he said with a heartfelt smile. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Annabelle.”

His words and actions, so full of unconditional support, deepened my gratitude. Hugging him, I whispered, “You’ll make a great dad someday, too.”

Still, I was still hesitant. Accepting even more from Dave seemed wrong. But he proposed a trade-off: my cooking for his support. He also joked and teased me, and that light-hearted banter eased the tension in my body and heart.

For the first time since this nightmare began, I laughed genuinely. Over the next few days, our pact became a beautiful routine at his house. I found solace in the simple acts of kindness he showered upon me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

At the supermarket, I resolved to leave my job. I could afford to, at least for now, thanks to Dave’s support. And as time passed, our connection deepened.

Dave’s gentle presence became a constant in my life. His care was evident in every gesture, from tying my shoes to surprising me with thoughtful gifts.

One day, as he felt the baby kick, the joy in his eyes sparked a realization in me: I was falling in love with him. But fear crept in, overshadowing my newfound happiness. Could someone like Dave truly love a soon-to-be single mother with a complicated past?

These thoughts haunted me, and I wrestled with the idea of confessing my feelings, fearful of risking the precious bond we’d built.

***

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

During a routine chicken casserole night, Dave arrived from work, smiling tiredly. “Smells incredible,” he complimented, placing some tulips on the table.

As we ate, he praised the meal. “Annabelle, this is phenomenal. Reminds me of my mom’s cooking.”

I felt warmth running through my body at his words. So, as we talked, our shared memories made me bold. “I’m so glad you liked it, honey,” I said, immediately regretting the slip.

Dave’s reaction was immediate: his smile faltered. Our pleasant moment was shattered, and I panicked. “Dave? I… it’s just pregnancy brain, I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying to lighten the mood.

He attempted a grin again but stood from the table. “Delicious, as always. Thanks,” he said, leaving the room abruptly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

The following days were filled with awkward silences. Dave’s behavior changed; he left early and returned late. His greetings were brief, and his eyes always avoided mine.

One afternoon, I was curled up on the couch, lost in a sea of worry and self-loathing, when a sharp electronic chime shattered the oppressive silence.

It was a voicemail notification on Dave’s phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table.

A woman’s voice, professional and polite, filled the room. “Mr. Evans, this is a reminder that the documents for your new apartment are ready for pick-up at your convenience.”

The message struck like a blow, sinking my heart. Dave was planning to move. Heartbroken, I realized I couldn’t stay, not as a reminder of a complicated situation he wanted to escape.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

So, I decided to go, my heart even heavier than when I tried to leave before. “We have each other, my little boy,” I whispered to my belly, preparing to face the world alone as I packed.

Before I could leave, though, the blare of the doorbell made my entire body jerk. For a second, I thought it was Dave, but I opened the door to see Miles, who sneered at my pregnant form. His first words dripped with disdain. “Motherhood’s added a few pounds, huh?”

“What do you want, Miles?” I asked, my voice sharp.

He breezed past, dismissing my anger with a smirk. “Just checking on you and my bachelor buddy’s hospitality,” he said, his tone patronizing.

His audacity stunned me. “Get out,” I demanded.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

He ignored my command, finally getting to the point. “Let’s be a family, Annabelle. Think of the publicity for me, the ‘devoted dad.’”

Publicity? For his football career? Was he insane? He wanted to use our child for his gain! Revolted, I pushed him away, condemning his monstrous selfishness.

Miles laughed. “What are you going to do without me? You think Dave took you in because he loved you? Cared about you and your baggage? You were just another project, a chance to play hero. A charity case, not his ladylove.”

For a second, I considered his words, my thoughts warring in my head. But a sudden pain, sharp and unavoidable, distracted me. A few beats later, liquid splashed on the floor.

“My water broke, Miles,” I gasped, panic setting in as another contraction hit.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

His reaction shifted from mockery to horror. “The baby’s coming?” he asked, staggering back in disbelief.

As pain overwhelmed me, Miles fainted, and darkness edged my vision. But during the chaos, Dave’s voice reached me, like a knight ready to save the princess.

“Annabelle? Are you alright?” Dave asked, worriedly taking my hand. “We need to go to the hospital.”

“I… I’m so sorry, Dave,” I stammered, tears blurring my vision further. “For everything. For intruding into your life, for making you take care of me all these months. I know… about the new apartment. You were moving out because of me.”

Dave frowned and then, sighed, exasperated. “You’ve got it all wrong. The apartment is for us, Annabelle,” he explained. “It has a nursery for our baby. I love you.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / LOVEBUSTER

Another sharp pain overtook my body before I could gush over his confession. Dave scooped me in his arms and put me in his car, not even caring that Miles was still unconscious on his tiled floor.

The drive to the hospital was full of agony and anticipation. Our baby boy Matthew’s arrival was a chorus of cries and relief, but it marked the beginning of our new journey, one full of love.

Years later, with the birth of our daughter Hope, our family became complete. Dave’s unwavering passion and protectiveness turned past pains into distant memories I never thought about again.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

While a pregnant Annabelle found true love after being kicked out by her boyfriend, in another corner of the world, Megan found her special someone after her husband David left her. He not only fat-shamed his devoted wife but also dumped her for another woman. Here’s the full story.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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