A man ridicules his unemployed wife, only to come home one day to find her gone. In her search, he discovers a note revealing she intends to divorce him. Can he stop her from doing so and save their marriage?
It was a bright, cold October morning, and Harry was excited about his gaming app presentation, a project he had poured himself into for the past six months.
As the clock struck eight, Harry entered the dining room, preoccupied with his phone, barely acknowledging his wife, Sara, and their sons, Cody and Sonny.
“Morning, honey,” greeted Sara.
“Good morning, Daddy,” the boys chimed in unison.
Ignoring them, Harry grabbed a toast and rushed back to his room.
“Sara, where’s my white shirt?” Harry’s voice boomed from the room.
“It’s in the wash with the other whites,” Sara replied.
Harry stormed into the dining room. “That’s my lucky shirt! I needed it for today!”
“I didn’t have enough whites for a full load until now. You have other white shirts!!”
“This is a big day for me, and you’re making excuses?” Harry retorted.
“You’re overreacting, Harry. Your presentation is what matters. It’s just a shirt. So stop barking, alright?”
“Oh really? I’m barking? You wanna do this now?”
“Do what, Harry? You’re making a scene for a stupid little thing. And nobody would be interested in what color shirt you’re wearing when all eyes would be fixed on your goddamn presentation.”
“A goddamn presentation? Come again…Did you just say that? Do you have any idea how I’ve been busting my butt off day and night for that project?”
“Watch your words. The kids….”
“You sit at home all day doing nothing,” Harry blurted out. “Is it too hard to remember one simple thing? All you do is Blah Blah Blah and NOTHING at home.”
“Harry, stop this. The kids are watching. You’re scaring them.”
“Oh really? And nobody watches you when you’re on the goddamn phone gossiping all the time with your friends. Nobody watches that, huh, Sara? You can never be a good wife if you can’t do even a simple thing for me!”
Harry dressed up in a random suit and stormed out of the house, grabbing his briefcase.
After a successful presentation and bagging the promotion, Harry anticipated an apology call from Sara – something she always did after their fights. But this time, there were no calls.
Thinking he would win her apology anyway, he returned home with white roses but found the apartment empty. A note from Sara on the table read, “I want a divorce.”
Confused and worried, Harry called Sara’s sister, Zara, who informed him that Sara was in the hospital. Harry rushed to the hospital, only to face an angry Zara. “You told her she was not ‘wife’ enough for you?”
“Look, we’ll talk about this later, alright?”
Harry rushed to meet the doctor. “Doctor, is my wife alright? Can I see her?”
“It was a mild attack. She’s out of danger. But she needs to take care of her health now. Go ahead and only ten minutes coz she needs to rest.”
Harry shakily walked into the ward, trying to force a smile as he approached Sara.
“Honey, I’m sorry. Please, let me explain. I—”
“I don’t wanna hear anything. I’m done. Divorce is the only thing I want.”
“Wha-What? Why…You’re taking it too far, alright?”
“I had ambitions, plans… I chose you over every opportunity, and it ruined my life,” she said. “It’s too late for your
“Honey, please. We can work this together,” he pleaded.
“No, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be fake to myself. To you. And to the kids. I’m 32, but I feel like a crone. I just hate you, Harry. You’re so disgusting.”
“What about the kids, Sara?”
“I’m in a tough spot to provide for them…So they’re staying with you.”
Harry spoke no more and stormed out of the hospital to pick up his kids from Zara’s house.
At home, he ordered pizza and ice cream for dinner. After tucking the kids into bed, he called his friend Alex, who suggested that Sara might have just cracked up and would be home soon.
The next morning, Harry’s kids awoke him, and as soon as he looked at his watch, he knew he was late! In the morning chaos, Harry burnt the French toast and his shirt while juggling the kids’ school preparations.
“Oh, no, the toast,” he exclaimed, rushing to salvage the breakfast.
“Daddy…Daddy, what’s happening?” the kids asked amidst the chaos.
“It’s just the smoke alarm. Don’t worry,” Harry reassured them, but things only got worse.
He had an important meeting, and he was getting late. “I’ll quickly get ready, and let’s grab something nice to eat on the way to school, yeah?”
He dropped the kids off at school and arrived late at the meeting. “Sorry! Traffic, you know….”
When he returned home in the evening, Harry found signs of Sara’s absence more evident. Her belongings were gone. “Did she leave me for real?” he wondered, overwhelmed.
“Daddy, what happened to Mommy’s pictures and her things?” the boys asked.
Harry, clueless, called Zara.
“Is this some kind of a joke, Zara? Your sister came here. Took all her things. And left me? With the kids?”
Zara coldly informed him, “She’d told you, hadn’t she, Harry? You took my sister for granted.” And then the line went blank.
Five months went by without Sara. Harry struggled to balance work and parenting, and his work performance declined.
One day, his boss, Mr. Adams, invited him for a beer. At the pub, Mr. Adams brought up Harry’s recent work issues.
“Harry, we’ve noticed you’ve been missing deadlines and coming in late. And we’re a business…If you know what I mean,” Mr. Adams said.
Harry, trying to lighten the mood, joked, “So, you plan to let your best game developer go?”
Mr. Adams was also Harry’s friend, and Harry could’ve never prepared himself for what happened next.
“I’m afraid, yes,” Mr. Adams replied seriously. “It’s out of my hands. I’ll give you good recommendations.”
“What? Please, don’t do this! I need this job for my kids.”
Mr. Adams remained silent, leading Harry to storm out in frustration. As he walked away, his phone rang. It was Sara.
“Sara?” Harry said, surprised.
“Harry, can we meet for a quick chat at five? At the café where we first…?” Sara asked.
At a café, Sara met with Harry to discuss their children. She revealed she had been in therapy and now wanted custody.
“Custody?? How dare you? After you left us?” Harry fumed.
“Harry, I’m their mother. I have rights,” Sara insisted.
“You abandoned them, and now you want to take them away? They’re used to me now,” Harry argued.
Sara was determined. “I deserve to have them back. I’ll see you in court.”
Days later, Harry, now adept at managing household chores and balancing a new freelance gig, prepared breakfast for his sons.
“Daddy loves you,” he kissed them goodbye and dropped them at school before heading to the custody trial.
“Mr. Wills, can you please tell us about your attention to your family while you lived together with my client, Miss Sara?” Sara’s lawyer asked Harry.
“Well, I did my best to provide for my family. I worked long hours. Overtime sometimes. I kept myself busy because I wanted to make sure they had everything they needed,” Harry said.
“That’s what most responsible family guys do, right?! And what about your wife’s ambitions? Did she want to build her own career?”
“Before we had our kids…Yes, she did want to work. But after that, she stayed home to look after the kids and the household.”
“Well, looking after the kids…the family…cooking, cleaning. So basically, your wife has been your cook. Your children’s nanny. Your wellwisher. And did you insult her, saying she did nothing at home?”
“I did. Yes, it was an outburst. I was late for office and—”
“Mr. Wills, were you fired from your job? Why were you fired exactly?”
“Objection, Your Honor. This is utterly irrelevant and immaterial to the case,” Harry’s lawyer rose.
“Objection overruled.”
“Thank you, Your Honor!” added Sara’s lawyer. “Mr. Wills, why were you fired from your job?”
After a momentous pause, Harry looked into Sara’s teary eyes and opened up. “Because I couldn’t balance my work and parental duties. I tried, but it was too much. But I didn’t give up. I would never give up on my kids. I love them.”
“Mr. Wills, how are you managing now? How do you intend to support your kids…without a job?”
“I have a job. I can support them well.”
“Be specific, Mr. Wills. What job and what’s the salary?”
“It…It’s a part-time freelance gig. I’m a video editor.”
“Mr. Wills, I admire your confidence despite your climbing down the career ladder! I’m sure you make nothing much like you used to in your previous job, right?” the lawyer added ironically. “A freelance job. Low salary. And raising two kids in today’s recession. Well…That’s all, Your Honor.”
Sara was then called up to the box as Harry’s heart started pounding.
“Ms. Sara, can you please tell us about your life with your husband…I mean, soon-to-be ex-husband?” Harry’s lawyer asked. “Did he ever refuse to give you money or care for you in any way?”
“No…Not at all. He was always generous with our finances. We never had any issues with money.”
“Did Mr. Wills ever raise his hands on you or the kids? Has he ever come home drunk and misbehaved at home?”
“No, he never laid a hand on us. My husband. Sorry. Mr. Wills has never come home drunk.”
“Your husband has taken care of you. You even agreed on that. He’s never laid his hands on you. Then why did you leave him and the kids?”
“I had a nervous breakdown. He was always busy. He would come home and sit with his laptop, barely asking me if I was sick…happy…or sad. I tried to cope. But I couldn’t do it anymore and left. I didn’t want my kids to struggle with me as I wasn’t emotionally stable at that time.”
Harry slowly started to break on the inside, and those words hit him like a bag of bricks.
“Ms. Sara, where were you these six months? What were you doing, and how will you care for the kids?”
“I was in Chicago at a friend’s place. I wanted to be away from everything and everyone for a while. Then I moved back to Boston…got a job as an interior designer.”
“What’s the guarantee you won’t have another breakdown and won’t abandon the kids again?” the lawyer broke Sara’s silence.
“Objection, Your Honor. This is baseless and….” Sara’s lawyer chimed in. “My client, Ms. Sara, has come for the children’s custody. Why would she leave them again?”
“Order…Order.”
“I won’t do it ever again. My children are my world. I’ll be there for them and never let anything like that happen again.”
And two hours later, the verdict was announced, and Sara was granted custody of the kids.
“….Mr. Wills, you’ll have the right to visit your children and take them with you two days a week. You’re required to pay $860 as support to your children every month. This case is now closed.”
Soon, the day arrived when the kids would go with Sara. She arrived, sad to separate the kids from their father but happy to have them back. As she was leaving with her two sons, her elder one stopped her.
“You’re just tearing us apart,” spoke Cody as he let go of Sara’s hand and bolted to Harry.
“We want both Mommy and Daddy!” added Sonny.
This was it. Sara could no longer hold herself back. She bolted in their direction and hugged them.
Old Woman Took My Hand and Started Predicting My Future, Persuading Me to Cancel My Wedding
When a strange woman grabbed my hand and warned me not to go through with my wedding, I brushed it off. But when I found out she was a paid actress, I had to know: who would go to such lengths to stop me from marrying the man I loved?
I was never the superstitious type. I’m Penelope, just your average woman juggling work, wedding plans, and spending time with my best friend, Esther. Life had been a blur of excitement lately. Cameron, my fiancé, was everything I could ever ask for — thoughtful, funny, and supportive.
A grayscale photo of a loving couple | Source: Pexels
Our wedding was just a couple of months away, and Esther, as usual, was by my side through all the chaos, helping me pick out flower arrangements, dresses, and everything in between.
It was a normal Saturday afternoon when the strange encounter happened. Esther and I had just left our favorite boutique, where we’d spent hours browsing through racks of dresses and debating which honeymoon destinations were overrated.
She was still trying to convince me that Fiji wasn’t all it was cracked up to be as we strolled through the supermarket, picking up a few groceries for the week.
A shopping cart in a grocery store aisle | Source: Unsplash
We were halfway down the cereal aisle when I felt someone standing a little too close behind me.
Turning around, I was face-to-face with an old woman: her dark hair messy, her piercing eyes locked onto mine. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand, her grip firm, almost desperate.
“I feel four scars,” she said, her voice low and gravelly. “All on your legs. An animal… a wolf?”
An old woman with dark messy hair and piercing eyes is standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
I froze, my heart nearly stopping. My legs — she was right. I had those scars, deep and jagged from when a wolf attacked me on a family camping trip when I was five. I hadn’t told many people about that. How could she possibly know?
Esther, who had been distracted by a message on her phone, turned just in time to see the woman holding my hand. “Hey! Let go of her!” she snapped, stepping closer, ready to intervene.
A woman looking angrily at someone while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
But the woman didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes stayed locked on mine. “I see your upcoming wedding,” she murmured, her grip tightening. “Don’t do it. Trouble awaits you.”
My breath caught in my throat. I felt like I was rooted to the spot, unable to move. How did she know about my wedding? What kind of “trouble” was she talking about?
A woman looks surprised and worried while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
Before I could ask her any of these questions, Esther pulled my hand free from the woman’s grip with one sharp tug. “Are you out of your mind?” Esther hissed at the woman. “Get lost, witch!”
The woman blinked, as if waking from a trance, then slinked away without another word. I stared after her, my heart still pounding.
“Penelope, are you okay?” Esther asked, her voice softening now that the stranger was gone. “She was probably just some crazy lady. Don’t let it get to you.”
A woman looks concerned while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
I tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said, though deep down, I wasn’t so sure. For the next two weeks, her words haunted me. “Don’t do it. Trouble awaits you.” They replayed in my mind like a broken record, and no matter how many times I told myself it was nonsense, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.
A woman looks worried and thoughtful | Source: Midjourney
Then yesterday, while having lunch with my mom at a small café, I saw her again — at least, I thought I did. Across the street, a woman was hurrying into a shop, but this time, her hair was blonde, her eyes light. She looked completely different, but there was something about her, something familiar.
Without thinking, I jumped up from my chair and rushed outside. “Hey! You!” I called, catching up to her just as she was about to enter the shop.
A woman with blonde hair standing in a flower shop | Source: Midjourney
The woman turned, startled. “Let me go!” she shrieked as I grabbed her wrist.
“Who are you?” I demanded, tightening my grip.
“I… I’m an actress,” she stammered. “I was paid to scare you into canceling your wedding.”
My heart dropped. “Paid? By who?”
She hesitated, then reluctantly pulled out her phone. My blood ran cold when she showed me the photo on her screen.
I could barely feel my legs as I stared at the picture on her phone screen.
An extremely shocked woman staring at a phone screen | Source: Midjourney
It was Cameron. The man I was supposed to marry in a few months. The man I trusted, loved, and thought I would spend my life with.
“He… he paid you?” My voice cracked as I asked, still trying to process the betrayal.
The actress shifted nervously, glancing around as if afraid someone might see us. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I was just doing my job. Please let me go.”
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Why? Why did he do this?”
An angry and upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know,” she admitted, rubbing her wrist where I had grabbed her. “He just said he couldn’t go through with the wedding, but didn’t know how to tell you.”
I felt a burning rage rise in me, but it wasn’t the fiery kind that made me want to scream. No, this was cold. Ice cold. He couldn’t call off the wedding himself, so he hired someone to manipulate me into doing it? The sheer cowardice was almost laughable. Almost.
A closeup of a man paying money to a woman | Source: Pexels
I exhaled slowly, forcing a calm that I didn’t feel. “Thank you for being honest,” I muttered, turning away from her. I didn’t wait for a response. My feet carried me down the street in a daze. My mind raced, thoughts of Cameron, the wedding, everything spinning out of control.
By the time I got home, I had already made up my mind. Two could play this game.
That evening, I set the table for dinner as if nothing had happened. I cooked his favorite — roasted chicken with rosemary potatoes — and made sure everything looked perfect.
A photo showing roasted chicken served with rosemary potatoes for dinner | Source: Midjourney
The scent filled the apartment, warm and comforting, masking the cold storm brewing inside me.
When Cameron walked in, his usual cheerful demeanor seemed a bit off. Maybe it was guilt gnawing at him. Good. He deserved it.
“Hey, babe!” he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, oblivious to what was coming. “Something smells great.”
“Just your favorite,” I replied, forcing a smile as I placed the plates on the table. “I thought we could have a nice night in.”
A woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
He sat down, and for a moment, we ate in silence. I waited, watching him between bites, waiting for the perfect moment. My heart raced, but outwardly, I stayed calm. When the time felt right, I casually began the conversation I had been planning all day.
“So,” I started, my tone light and easy, “you won’t believe what happened to me today.”
He looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What happened?”
A man looks surprised while sitting at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
“I was at the supermarket with Esther,” I said, setting my fork down and meeting his gaze. “And this woman just came up to me, grabbed my hand out of nowhere.”
Cameron froze, his fork hovering mid-air. “What?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “What did she want?”
I shrugged, pretending it was no big deal. “Oh, she started talking about these scars I have on my legs. It was weird — she knew about them, even though I’ve never met her in my life.”
A closeup of a person’s body with a scar | Source: Pexels
His eyes widened slightly. “That’s strange,” he said, his voice a little too tight. “What else did she say?”
“Oh, you know,” I continued, keeping my voice light, “she mentioned our wedding. Said some interesting things about it.”
Cameron’s grip tightened on his fork. “Really? What… what exactly did she say?”
I smiled sweetly, watching him squirm. “She said you’d be a super successful man and that we’d have a very happy marriage.”
That’s when he choked. Right on cue.
A stunned man sitting at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
He coughed, gasping for breath as I sat back, watching with an almost detached amusement. His face turned pale, his eyes wide with panic as he tried to recover.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” I asked, doing my best to sound concerned, though inside, I was relishing every second of his discomfort.
“Y-yeah,” he sputtered, wiping his mouth. “Just… unexpected.”
I leaned in slightly, dropping the playful tone. “Unexpected? What’s unexpected, Cam? The part about us having a happy marriage? Or the fact that you’re such a coward, you couldn’t even break off the engagement yourself?”
An angry and upset woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
His face went white as a sheet. “W-what? What are you talking about, Pen?”
I didn’t let him off the hook. “I ran into your actress today. The one you hired to freak me out and get rid of me!”
For a moment, Cameron just sat there, stunned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He had no words: no explanation, no excuses. He was caught, and we both knew it.
“How… how did you—” he stammered, but I cut him off.
An extremely shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t you dare deny it! I know everything” I kept my voice low and steady. “You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out, huh?”
His hands trembled slightly as he set his fork down, staring at the table. “Pen, I—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted, standing up slowly. “Don’t even try to explain. I’m done being fooled by you.”
He finally looked up at me, his face a blend of guilt and desperation. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Pen. I thought it would be easier this way.”
A man looks guilty and desperate | Source: Midjourney
I laughed — actually laughed at the absurdity of it. “Easier? You thought hiring some stranger to spout nonsense about our wedding would be easier than just talking to me? We’ve been together for years, Cam! And this is how you handle it?”
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
I leaned in close, just enough to see the shame in his eyes. “I guess I’ll be the one to call off the wedding then,” I whispered.
A woman looking at someone at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
With that, I turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving him sitting there, stunned and speechless. As I closed the door behind me, the weight that had been crushing me for weeks finally lifted. The future I had envisioned with Cameron crumbled, but in its place, a new path opened — one where I no longer had to pretend.
Game over, Cameron. Game over.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Did you find this story exciting? Wait till you read this next one: I was just moments away from saying ‘I do’ when the church doors burst open, and my father shrieked that the WEDDING WAS OFF. What he said next shattered my heart in the blink of an eye.
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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