When Caroline read the words “I’M PREGNANT” on her husband Daniel’s phone, she laughed it off as a mistake. But when another message followed, this time inviting him to dinner, she knew she had to uncover the truth. What she discovered that night was a secret Daniel had hoped to keep buried.
What would you do if you found a message from a stranger that said, “I’M PREGNANT,” on your husband’s phone? Would you laugh it off as a mistake? Or would it consume you, gnawing at your thoughts until you had to uncover the truth?
I’m Caroline, 42, and I’ve been married to Daniel for 12 years. We have two boys, ten and five, and we’ve built a messy, beautiful life together. I’ve never had a reason to distrust him. We’ve always shared everything — our phones, our plans, and our dreams.
Portrait of an emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
If his phone buzzed while he was out of reach, he’d just say, “Can you read that for me?” That’s why, when his phone pinged last Tuesday while he was rinsing dishes, I didn’t think twice.
I picked it up and saw a text from an unknown number: “I’M PREGNANT.”
At first, I laughed, calling out to him, “Wrong number, babe. Someone’s telling you they’re pregnant!” I was already reaching to show him the screen.
Daniel turned his head, water still running, and smiled briefly. “Weird,” he said, shrugging. “Just delete it.”
A shocked woman staring at a phone | Source: Midjourney
That night, as I lay in bed, the memory of his dismissive tone gnawed at me. I rolled over to face him in the darkness.
“Daniel?” I whispered. “Are you awake?”
“Mmm,” he murmured. “What’s wrong?”
“Remember that text today? It just felt… strange. The way you brushed it off.”
He reached for my hand under the covers. “Caroline, honey, you’re overthinking this. Come here.” He pulled me closer, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
An anxious man | Source: Midjourney
“It’s just… you didn’t even look at it. Aren’t you curious who might have the wrong number?”
“It’s probably just spam,” he said, his voice thick with sleep. “Let’s not let some random text ruin our peace, okay?”
I hesitated. Something about how quickly he dismissed it felt off, but I told myself I was being paranoid. It was probably just some poor woman texting the wrong number, right?
But then, two days later, there was another message. This one made my stomach twist: “Will be waiting for you at La Bella Vita on Friday. Got a reservation at 7 p.m. See you then. Love you.”
A startled woman looking at a smartphone | Source: Midjourney
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest. This wasn’t a mistake. It couldn’t be. The first message was strange enough, but this one? It was clear. This person wasn’t texting the wrong number — they were texting MY HUSBAND.
That night, as we sat on the couch after the kids were in bed, I casually asked, “Hey, have you gotten any more weird messages from that number?”
Daniel didn’t even flinch. “No,” he said, reaching for the remote.
I pressed further. “Are you sure?”
He glanced at me briefly, his expression calm but dismissive. “Yeah! Someone’s just messing around. Forget about it, honey.”
A man lying in his bed and smiling | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed the remote from his hand and switched off the TV. The screen went dark, but my mind buzzed with suspicion. Why would Daniel lie to me?
By Friday, the message had completely consumed my thoughts. My husband claimed he had a work meeting that night and would be home late.
“I’ll just eat with the boys,” I said casually, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Sorry, babe,” he said, pulling on his jacket. “I’ll make it up to you this weekend.” He kissed the top of my head and walked out.
As soon as the door closed, I grabbed my keys and called the babysitter. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely dial the number.
“Yes, ma’am?” our regular sitter, Jenny, answered.
“Jenny, I need you to come over. Right now. It’s an emergency.”
A distressed woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Is everything okay?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.
I choked back a sob. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know anymore.”
La Bella Vita was one of those upscale restaurants where couples celebrate anniversaries and job promotions. It wasn’t the kind of place you went for a casual meal.
I sat in my car in the parking lot, gripping the steering wheel. My stomach churned, and for a moment, I wondered if I should just drive home. But then I thought about the texts from the stranger. If I ignored this, I’d never be able to forgive myself.
I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. “You can do this,” I whispered to myself. “Whatever happens in there, you deserve the truth.”
At 7:30, I walked inside.
An agitated woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
The hostess greeted me with a smile. “Do you have a reservation?”
“No,” I said, scanning the dining room behind her. My heart stopped when I saw Daniel sitting at a table near the window.
He wasn’t alone. His hand was on HERS.
There was a young girl, maybe 17 or 18, sitting across from him. Her face was animated, her hands gesturing as she talked. Beside her was an older woman — close to my age, but dressed in a way that screamed “trying to impress.”
And Daniel? He was smiling. The girl’s hand rested lightly on his as he listened to her.
Close-up shot of a man holding a woman’s hand | Source: Pexels
My legs felt like lead as I walked toward them. Each step felt like walking through quicksand, my chest tightening with every breath.
“So, this is your ‘work meeting’?” I hissed.
Daniel’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Caroline!” he said, half-standing. “Wh… what are you doing here? How did you…? WELL, I’M SO GLAD THAT YOU CAME!”
“Are you?” I asked, folding my arms.
“Please,” he said quickly, pulling out an empty chair. “Sit down. I can explain everything.”
A furious woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I glanced at the two women. The younger girl looked confused, but the older woman? She looked annoyed, like I’d just crashed something important.
“Who is she?” the older woman demanded, her eyes narrowing at Daniel. “You didn’t say anyone else was coming.”
“She’s my wife, Caroline. I didn’t know she was coming,” Daniel admitted, his voice strained. “Caroline, please, sit down.”
I sat down, my eyes never leaving Daniel. “Start explaining.”
Daniel took a deep breath. “This is… complicated. Caroline, this is my daughter, Sophie. And this is her mother, Lisa.”
His words didn’t make sense. “Your DAUGHTER?” I repeated.
An anxious man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
My head literally started spinning. I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself when Daniel nodded, tears slowly brimming in his eyes.
“A daughter?” I whispered. “All these years… all these years we’ve been together, and you never once mentioned —”
“Because I didn’t know!” Daniel’s voice cracked. “Caroline, look at me. I swear on our boys’ lives, I had no idea until a few weeks ago.”
“A few weeks?”
“Yes,” he said, leaning forward. “She’s 18. I didn’t know about her until a few weeks ago. Lisa and I dated in high school. We broke up, and… I had no idea she was pregnant when we broke up. She raised our child… alone.”
Grayscale shot of a pregnant woman | Source: Unsplash
I turned to Lisa, who was sitting stiffly in her chair. “You’ve known for 18 years and never thought to tell him?”
Lisa’s expression hardened. “We didn’t exactly part on good terms. And honestly, I didn’t think he’d care.”
“Didn’t think he’d care?” I snapped. “Then why now? What made you decide to contact him?”
Sophie spoke up for the first time, her voice small. “Mom always said he left us…”
A sad young girl in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“That’s not true,” Daniel said firmly, his eyes glistening. “Sophie, I would never have abandoned you. Never.”
Lisa’s face flushed. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re here because Sophie’s pregnant.”
I blinked, stunned. “She’s PREGNANT?”
Lisa nodded. “And I don’t want her to make the same mistakes I did. The man has to take responsibility, and as Sophie’s father, Daniel needs to help us… financially.”
An annoyed woman frowning | Source: Midjourney
My jaw clenched as I turned to Daniel. “Financially? You didn’t think to discuss this with me first?”
“Caroline,” Daniel started, “I was going to tell you —”
“When?” I cut him off. “Before or after you handed them a check?”
Sophie burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t want any of this. Mom insisted…”
Lisa crossed her arms and glared at me. “This is none of your business. It’s between my daughter and her father.”
“None of my business?” I laughed bitterly. “This absolutely is my business. If Daniel’s going to support you financially, it’s coming out of OUR budget. The budget that feeds our children, pays for their school, and their future.”
A frustrated woman with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
“Your children?” Lisa sneered. “Sophie is his flesh and blood too!”
“Stop it!” Sophie cried out. “Just stop! I can’t take this anymore!” She pushed back from the table, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“Sophie, wait —” Daniel reached for her, but she pulled away.
“I never wanted money,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I just… I just wanted to know my father. To know if he would’ve wanted me if he had known.”
A distressed young girl | Source: Midjourney
Daniel’s face crumpled. “Of course I would have wanted you. Sophie, please —”
I watched the scene unfold, something nagging at the back of my mind. Sophie’s outburst felt… rehearsed somehow. Like a performance designed to tug at our heartstrings.
Years of teaching drama to fifth graders had made me pretty good at spotting the difference between genuine emotion and acting. And something about this felt off.
A suspicious woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
I turned to Daniel, my voice low and steady. “If you’re going to help them, fine. But we need proof. A DNA test to confirm she’s YOUR daughter, and a medical certificate confirming the pregnancy. Until then, we’re not committing to anything.”
Lisa’s face turned red. “How dare you question us?”
“Because this affects MY family too,” I said firmly. “If you’re telling the truth, you shouldn’t have a problem proving it.”
The meeting ended awkwardly. Lisa stormed out, dragging Sophie with her, and Daniel stayed behind, his head in his hands.
A woman storming out of the room | Source: Pexels
“Caroline,” he said softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to keep this from you. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it when Lisa and Sophie texted me. Lisa said she got my number from one of my college friends.”
I reached across the table and lifted his chin. “Look at me. Did you really not know about Sophie?”
His eyes met mine, filled with pain and regret. “I swear to you, I had no idea. When Lisa contacted me… it was like my whole world shifted. She told me that I have a daughter, Caroline. A daughter I never knew existed.”
“You should have started with the truth,” I said, standing up. “From now on, that’s the only thing I’m willing to accept.”
The next few days were tense. Lisa sent a few more texts asking for money, but Daniel stuck to my request for proof. When we insisted on a DNA test, the messages stopped altogether, and both their numbers were suddenly disconnected.
A woman seeing her phone | Source: Midjourney
One night, I found Daniel sitting alone in the dark, staring at his phone.
“What if she really was my daughter?” he whispered. “What if I just lost my only chance to know her?”
I wrapped my arms around him from behind. “If Sophie is your daughter, she’ll find you again.”
A week later, Daniel got a call from an old friend and was shaken to his core.
“Lisa has pulled this trick before with her ‘pregnant daughter,’” he told Daniel. “Same story, different guy, pal. Both Lisa and Sophie are running a scam. They target Lisa’s exes from high school, claiming Sophie is their long-lost child. Last year, they got ten grand from Mike — her ex before she started dating you — and disappeared from town before he figured out the truth.”
A shocked man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
That night, as we lay in bed, Daniel finally broke down. The sobs that wracked his body were unlike anything I’d ever heard from him.
“I really thought…” he choked out. “For a moment, I really believed I had a daughter.”
I held him close. “You were naive… but don’t let anyone take advantage of your kindness again.”
Daniel hugged me tight, tears in his eyes. “Thank you for being strong when I wasn’t,” he whispered.
I kissed his cheek. “We’re a team, Daniel. But if you ever lie to me again, that team is over.”
He nodded, pulling me closer. “Never again,” he promised. “Our family is everything to me. Everything.”
A couple comforting each other | Source: Pexels
As we drifted off to sleep, I thought about how easily a few text messages had almost shattered our world. And how a stranger’s fake tears had nearly cost us not just money, but our trust in each other.
I held Daniel closer, grateful that we’d emerged stronger, wiser, and more united than before. Sometimes the hardest moments show us exactly what we’re made of and what we’re worth fighting for.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
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.
I Asked Homeless Man to Be My Pretend Fiancé Only to Discover He Was Part of My Mother’s Secret Past — Story of the Day
I was tired of my family’s endless questions about my love life, so I had a wild plan. I found and brought a homeless man as my pretend fiancé to the holiday dinner. Everything seemed perfect until my mother’s reaction revealed a shocking connection between them.
I sat in my car, staring at the park entrance, dreading the upcoming weekend with my family. Every holiday visit was the same: my mom’s subtle looks, my dad’s hopeful smiles, and the never-ending barrage of questions.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
When are you getting married? Have you met someone?
It was exhausting, and the thought of another round of it was more than I could handle.
Suddenly, my eyes fell on a man sitting alone on a bench, huddled in a tattered coat. He looked worn out like life had handed him more than his share of troubles. His sad eyes and the deep lines on his face still made him look like a handsome man. That’s when it hit me. Crazy idea!
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Could he be my fiancé for the weekend?” I muttered to myself.
It was insane, but it could work. Anything to keep my family off my back. I got out of the car and walked over to him. He looked up, and we stared at each other.
“Hey,” I started, feeling awkward. “I know this is going to sound strange, but… would you be willing to pretend to be my fiancé? Just for a weekend. In return, I can offer you a warm place to stay, new clothes, and a nice meal.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, he said nothing. His gaze lingered on mine as if he were trying to understand why someone like me would make such an offer. Then, to my surprise, he nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he said quietly.
I was shocked at how easily he agreed. No questions. No hesitation. That made me a little nervous. But at that point, I didn’t care.
“Great,” I said. “Let’s get you ready for the weekend.”
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***
After we got back home, I handed the stranger some clothes that belonged to my ex. His things were still in my closet, and honestly, I couldn’t think of a better use for them.
“Here, these should fit you,” I said, offering a clean shirt and jeans. “You can take a shower if you’d like. I’ll make us some dinner.”
“Well, thanks,” he said with a small smile. “A shower sounds amazing.”
As he headed into the bathroom, I kept myself busy chopping vegetables and trying to ignore the nervousness building up inside me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Sharing my home with a stranger… Mia, what are you doing? You still don’t know his name!
When the stranger emerged from the bathroom, I heard the door creak and turned around. He stood there, a towel slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp, and to my surprise, he looked completely different.
“Well, that’s the best shower I’ve had in years,” he joked.
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The awkwardness I’d felt earlier seemed to vanish in an instant.
“Glad to hear it. I hope the dinner will be just as good.”
He glanced at the table, eyeing the plates I’d set out. “Smells incredible. I am Christopher, by the way.” He smiled at me, sitting down at the table.
Feeling a bit shy, I only replied, “Mia.”
As we sat down to eat, he took the first bite and nodded. “It’s perfect. Haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a long time.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
We ate in comfortable silence for a bit, and then the conversation started flowing naturally.
“So,” I said, breaking the quiet. “Any favorite movies or books?”
He thought for a moment before answering. “I always loved old westerns. And books? Probably The Old Man and the Sea. Simple, but there’s something about it.”
“Really? Hemingway? I wouldn’t have guessed,” I said, a little surprised. “I thought you’d go for something darker.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
He chuckled. “You’re not wrong, but sometimes, simple stories hit the hardest.”
“I get that.”
We spent the rest of the evening talking about random topics that made us laugh. He had a dry sense of humor that caught me off guard, and by the end of dinner, I felt surprisingly comfortable around him.
Late in the evening, I went back into the kitchen to grab a glass of water before bed. I noticed the dishes had already been washed and stacked neatly by the sink.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Did you… do the dishes?” I asked Christopher, peeking around the corner.
“Seemed like the least I could do.”
I smiled, genuinely touched by the gesture. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“Good night, Christopher.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
The next day, everything moved quickly. We had one day left before the weekend with my family, and there was still so much to do.
First, we went to the hair salon. As the stylist worked, Christopher sat quietly, letting the transformation happen. I watched in amazement as his shaggy hair was trimmed into something neat and polished.
“This feels weird,” he muttered, looking at himself in the mirror.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Good weird or bad weird?” I teased.
“Definitely good,” he said with a smirk.
By the time we hit the shops to pick out new clothes, he was starting to look like a completely different person.
***
The holiday dinner started well enough. My parents were delighted to see Christopher, and I could almost feel my mother’s pride as she glanced at me, finally quieting her usual questions about my personal life.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Christopher played his part perfectly—polite, attentive, and even charming when he spoke. I began to relax, thinking that maybe my crazy plan had worked.
“Christopher, right?” my mother asked, smiling brightly. “You look so familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before? On TV, maybe?”
She laughed lightly as if she had just made a harmless joke.
Christopher politely shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Maybe I just have one of those faces.”
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My father chuckled, clearly amused by my mother’s playful banter. “Well, if you’re on TV, I’ll have to start watching more closely.”
“So, Christopher,” Mom continued, “what did you do before you met Mia? Business, right?”
Christopher paused, glancing at my mother a bit too long before answering.
“Yes, business,” he said quietly, but there was something in his tone that felt different. “But everything changed for me about five years ago.”
My heart skipped a beat.
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Wait… This isn’t part of the plan.
I shot him a quick look, hoping he’d catch on, but he continued. “There was an accident. A car accident. It… changed my life completely.”
This definitely isn’t something we talked about.
My mother’s face went pale, her fingers clenched the tablecloth, knuckles turning white. Her expression darkened as if she had just pieced something together.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“A car accident?” she echoed. Her words had sucked the warmth out of the room. “That’s… unfortunate.”
My father glanced at her. “Olivia, are you okay?”
But she wasn’t listening to him. “Not everyone walks away from accidents unscathed, do they?”
Christopher didn’t flinch, quietly sipping his wine.
“He’s not the kind of man you need,” Mom said bluntly, her voice trembling with anger.
I was taken aback. My father’s eyes widened in shock, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Christopher calmly set his glass down. “Excuse me. I’ll step outside for a moment.”
As he left, I turned to my mother. “What was that about? He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“There’s something you need to know, Mia. Five years ago, I was in a car accident,” she began, her voice lowering as though she were afraid someone else might hear.
“It was late at night, outside the city. There were no witnesses. The man I hit… was Christopher.”
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My heart dropped. “What?”
“Your Christopher,” she said bitterly, “was under the influence that night. I demanded he get tested, but he refused. No one saw what happened, so I chose not to take him to court. But Mia, you need to understand… He’s dangerous. You can’t trust him.”
Christopher? Under the influence?
Finally, I broke the silence. “I need to talk to him.”
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***
Christopher was leaning against the fence, staring off into the night. His expression was calm, but I could see the sadness in his eyes.
“Christopher,” I called softly.
He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “My last name is Hartman. Yes, I was in that accident. I was on sedatives that night—prescribed for my anxiety after my wife died. I was driving carefully.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, simple ring.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You’re the first woman I’ve met since my wife’s death that I’ve wanted to leave something with. This was hers. Thank you for dinner, Mia. It was… more than I deserved.”
He handed me the ring, then nodded slightly before walking away.
“Wait,” I whispered, but the words got lost in the cold night air.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the ring in my hand. When I walked back inside, my mother was waiting.
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“You didn’t tell me the whole truth, did you?” I demanded.
She sighed. “No. I didn’t. I was driving too fast that night. I… I was scared, Mia.”
“Is he worth chasing?”
The look in her eyes said it all. Yes. But it was already too late.
***
I couldn’t stop thinking about Christopher. His story, the accident, the weight he carried. It haunted me.
I placed an ad in the local paper, something simple but direct:
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“Christopher Hartman, if you see this, please meet me at the restaurant where we last had dinner. I eat there every evening. Mia.”
I felt a little foolish, not knowing if he’d ever read it or if he even wanted to see me again. But I had to try. There was too much left unsaid.
***
The day after placing the ad, I arrived at the restaurant early. As the minutes ticked by, doubt started creeping in.
Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to.
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But then, just as I was about to give up, the door opened. Christopher stepped in, scanning the room until they landed on me. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he walked over.
“I saw your ad,” he said, sitting down across from me.
We locked eyes for a moment before I spoke. “There’s so much I need to tell you. I found out about your past… about the accident… My mother finally admitted she was at fault, too. And…. she took your money!”
“I didn’t want to blame anyone. After my wife died… nothing mattered.”
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We sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle between us.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to be,” he said, his voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but still… I want to help. My mother wants to make things right. She’s returning what she took from you.”
We spent the rest of the evening talking. It wasn’t about pretending anymore. It was real. By the end of the night, I realized something. I had fallen in love with Christopher. And the best part? He felt the same.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
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