Jamie Lee Curtis breaks down in tears over shocking revelation!

Jamie Lee Curtis said some very sad things about her close friend and Curb Your Enthusiasm star Richard Lewis, who died on Tuesday of a heart attack at the age of 76.

The 65-year-old actress who played the witch in Halloween also starred with the comedian in the sitcom Anything But Love, which ran for four seasons from 1989 to 1992.

She posted on her main Instagram page on Wednesday after hearing the sad news that the actor had died. Bette Midler was the first to share the news.

Curtis posted a bunch of old pictures of herself with Lewis and wrote a long caption in which she thanked the late star for being “the reason I am sober.”

This month, Jamie celebrated 25 years of being sober after struggling with an opioid addiction.

“I just learned that my friend Richard Lewis has died.” I remember exactly where I was on Sunset Boulevard when I saw a billboard of him for a stand-up special. It was during the casting process for the ABC pilot Anything But Love, and I asked the casting staff to bring him in to try out for the part of Marty Gold, my best friend and maybe boyfriend.

“I thought he looked good.” Someone made me laugh, which is something a strong woman can’t really do for herself. I laughed out loud when he pronounced the word “Bundt cake” wrong, but he got the part.

“He blew everyone else away,” Jamie said. They didn’t pick up the pilot for the love triangle show, but they got back to me and said, “The chemistry with Richard was so great. Could we revamp the original pilot?” That’s how we ended up making the show for two years.

“He was also a stand-up comedian, but he hated performing in front of real people. I, on the other hand, loved it.”

He would hide his lines on props, door frames, and even my face in a close-up. He also always had his lines written on a clipboard with him. He played roles very well, it turned out. It’s deep and so damn funny.

She said, “We grieved together over the death of our friend and co-star Richard Frank and over the death of our friend and producer John Ritter.”

“In his last text message to me, Richard hoped that I could get ABC/Disney to release another boxed set of episodes of the show,” she wrote to her fans.

Then Jamie said, “He’s also the reason I’m sober.” He helped me. I will always be grateful to him for that act of kindness.

They talked about his wife, Joyce Lapinsky, and she said, “He found love with Joyce, and that, of course, along with being sober, was what mattered most to him.” It makes me cry to write this.

This is a strange way to thank a nice and funny man. Richard, may you rest in laughter. “My Marty, I love you, Hannah!” she said in the end.

Jamie also wrote a second post about how sad she was about the death of her longtime friend and former co-star.

She added another old picture of herself with Lewis and some lyrics from the Anything But Love theme song.

“In the third and final season of the TV show ANYTHING BUT LOVE, which aired on ABC for a few years, the great singer-songwriter JD Souther wrote this beautiful theme song,” Curtis wrote.

“Try to find it on YouTube and listen to it. If not, I’ve written it down here for you.” Today I’m giving them to my friend Richard Lewis.

She shared lyrics that said, “If we had never met/And the world got on without us/Just as if we were never that at all,”We would still be looking for the next big thing and trying not to fall…

“Anything but love will do and hearts that beat like thunder.”For everyone but you, anything but love would be enough.

Larry David, who also stars on Curb Your Enthusiasm, and other famous people and social media users paid tribute to the late Richard Lewis.

“He’s been like a brother to me for most of my life,” he told HBO. “Richard and I were born three days apart in the same hospital.”

“He was the funniest and nicest person at the same time, which doesn’t happen very often.” The comedian told Variety, “But today he made me cry, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”

Cheryl Hines, who worked with Lewis on the hit show, wrote, “When I was young, I had the biggest crush on Richard Lewis.”

“There was no one funnier or more handsome on stage than him.” Then I got to work with him on Curb Your Enthusiasm, which was a dream come true.

“Over the years, I learned more about Richard and the gifts he gave.” I fell in love with him because he was funny, but he was also one of the nicest people I know.

“Especially in the last few years,” Cheryl said, “he would take the time to tell the people he loved how much they meant to him.” He told me how important I was to him and how much he loved me in between takes on Curb.

“To be loved by Richard Lewis.” A real gift. Richard, I love you. We will miss you. I love you, Joyce, and everyone in Richard’s family. Lawrence, Richard loved you…You already know that, though.

My Nonverbal Son Warned Me about My Husband’s Secret by Writing ‘Dad Lies!’ on His Palm

My husband’s early returns from work — always when our nanny was still there — set off alarm bells. But it was our nonverbal six-year-old, Oliver, who saw the truth. His warning, “Dad lies!” written on his palm in marker, led me to uncover a secret that would shatter our world.

Oliver had always been more observant than most kids his age. Maybe it was because he couldn’t speak and his rare condition meant he had to find other ways to communicate.

A boy playing with toy cars | Source: Midjourney

A boy playing with toy cars | Source: Midjourney

Whatever the reason, he saw things the rest of us missed, like how his father had been acting strange lately.

I’d noticed the changes gradually, like watching shadows lengthen across our living room floor. First, it was the phone calls he’d take outside, pacing the garden with one hand pressed against his ear.

Then came the mysterious appointments that never quite lined up with his usual schedule. But what really set off alarm bells was when James started coming home early from work.

A man arriving home from work | Source: Midjourney

A man arriving home from work | Source: Midjourney

It should have been a good thing. More family time, right? But something felt off about it, especially since he always seemed to time his arrivals when Tessa, our nanny, was still there.

They’d be in deep conversation when I’d call to check in, their voices dropping to whispers when Oliver was around.

“He’s just being more involved,” my friend Sarah assured me over coffee one morning. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

A smiling woman in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

I stirred my latte, watching the foam swirl into abstract patterns. “It feels different. Like he’s… hiding something.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He’s distracted. Distant. The other day, I found him sitting in Oliver’s room at midnight, just watching him sleep. When I asked what was wrong, he said ‘nothing’ so quickly it had to be something.”

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

I’d managed to keep my darker suspicions at bay until one fateful Tuesday afternoon. I left work early after my last meeting was canceled. The house was quiet when I walked in, but I heard low voices coming from the living room.

James and Tessa sat on the sofa, heads close together, speaking in hushed tones. They jumped apart when they saw me like teenagers caught passing notes in class.

“Rachel!” James’s voice cracked slightly. “You’re home early.”

Two people sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

Two people sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

“Meeting got canceled,” I said, the words falling flat between us. “Funny, sounds like yours did too.”

“Yeah, the client backed out last minute.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and Tessa’s cheeks flushed pink as she gathered Oliver’s art supplies.

I couldn’t focus on anything else after that. My thoughts spiraled as I prepared dinner, each clink of plates against the counter matching the pounding in my chest.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

What if all those early returns home weren’t about spending more time with Oliver? What if James and Tessa…

I couldn’t even complete the thought. The idea of him having an affair with our nanny made me physically ill, but once it took root, I couldn’t shake it.

I watched him across the dinner table, analyzing every gesture, every averted glance. Was he avoiding my eyes? Did that forced smile hide guilt?

A man eating dinner | Source: Midjourney

A man eating dinner | Source: Midjourney

“How was your afternoon?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

“Oh, you know. The usual.” James pushed his lasagna around his plate. “Just wanted to get home early to see my favorite people.”

The words that would’ve once warmed my heart now felt like daggers. I noticed Oliver watching us intently, his bright eyes darting between our faces as if reading a story written in our expressions.

A boy seated at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A boy seated at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

After dinner, James headed out to the garden — his convenient new escape, I thought bitterly. I was loading the dishwasher, my mind still churning with suspicions, when Oliver appeared at my elbow.

His small face was scrunched with worry, more serious than I’d ever seen him. He held up his palm, where he’d written two words in blue marker: “Dad lies!”

My heart stopped.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

Somehow, seeing those words validated every fear I’d been trying to suppress. If Oliver had noticed something was wrong, it couldn’t just be my imagination. My sweet, silent boy who saw everything — what exactly had he witnessed?

“What do you mean, sweetie?” I kneeled to his level. “What kind of lies?”

He pointed toward the hall table, where James had left his briefcase. The same briefcase he’d been clutching like a lifeline lately, never letting it out of his sight.

A briefcase on a table | Source: Pexels

A briefcase on a table | Source: Pexels

“Oliver, honey, that’s private—” I started to say, but he was already dragging it over to me, his eyes intense with purpose.

My hands trembled as I opened the clasp. Inside, instead of the expected lipstick-stained collar or hidden phone, I found a manila folder stuffed with medical documents.

The words jumped out at me like accusations: “Stage 3.” “Aggressive treatment required.” “Survival rate.”

“Oh God,” I whispered, the papers shaking in my hands.

A shocked woman looking at documents | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman looking at documents | Source: Midjourney

“Rachel?” His voice came from behind me, quiet and defeated. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

I spun around, tears already streaming down my face. “Find out? When exactly were you planning to tell me that you’re dying?”

He slumped into a kitchen chair, suddenly looking ten years older. “I thought… I thought if I could just handle it myself, get the treatments done quietly…”

“Quietly?” My voice rose.

A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“Is that what all those early afternoons were about? Chemotherapy? And Tessa — she knows?”

“She figured it out,” he admitted. “I needed someone to cover for me when I had appointments. I made her promise not to tell you.”

“Why?” The word came out as a sob. “Did you think I couldn’t handle it? That I wouldn’t want to be there for you?”

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

“I wanted to protect you and Oliver. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the one you’re giving me right now.” He reached for my hand. “I didn’t want every moment together to be overshadowed by this… this thing inside me.”

“You don’t get to make that choice for us,” I said, but I let him hold my hand anyway. “We’re supposed to face these things together. That’s what marriage means.”

Oliver appeared between us, tears rolling down his cheeks.

A boy wiping away tears | Source: Pexels

A boy wiping away tears | Source: Pexels

He held up his palm again, but this time it read: “I love Dad.”

James broke down then, really broke down, pulling Oliver into his lap. “I love you too, buddy. So much. I’m sorry I scared you with all the secrets.”

I wrapped my arms around them both, breathing in the familiar smell of James’s aftershave, and feeling Oliver’s small body trembling against us.

“No more secrets,” I whispered. “Whatever time we have left, we face it together.”

A woman speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

The next few weeks were a blur of doctor’s appointments and difficult conversations. I took a leave of absence from work, and we told Oliver’s school what was happening. Tessa stayed on, but now she was part of our support system rather than James’s confidante.

She brought us meals on treatment days and sometimes just sat with me while James slept off the effects of the chemotherapy.

“I’m so sorry,” she said one afternoon, her eyes filling with tears. “Keeping this from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But he was so scared of hurting you…”

A woman speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

“I understand,” I told her, and I did.

James had always been our protector, the one who checked for monsters under Oliver’s bed and kept spare batteries for every flashlight in case of storms. Of course, he’d try to shield us from this too.

Oliver started drawing more than ever. He filled pages with pictures of our family — always together, always holding hands.

A boy drawing pictures | Source: Midjourney

A boy drawing pictures | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes he drew James in a hospital bed, but he always drew him smiling, surrounded by love hearts and rainbows. His art teacher told us it was his way of processing everything, of telling the story he couldn’t voice.

One day, I found James sitting in Oliver’s room, surrounded by these drawings. His eyes were red-rimmed, but he was smiling.

“Remember when we first found out about his condition?” he asked. “How terrified we were that he’d never be able to express himself?”

A solemn man sitting in a child's bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A solemn man sitting in a child’s bedroom | Source: Midjourney

I sat down beside him, picking up a particularly colorful drawing. “And now he’s teaching us how to communicate better.”

“I was so wrong, Rachel. About all of it. I thought being strong meant handling everything alone, but look at him.” James gestured to a drawing where Oliver had depicted our family as superheroes. “He knows that real strength is letting people in, letting them help.”

That night, as we watched Oliver arrange his latest masterpiece on the refrigerator, James squeezed my hand.

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

“I was so scared of ruining what time we had left,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize that hiding the truth was already doing that.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, watching our silent, wise little boy. “Sometimes the hardest things to say are the ones that need saying the most.”

Oliver turned to us then, holding up both palms. On one, he’d written “Family.” On the other: “Forever.”

And in that moment, despite everything, I believed him.

A hopeful woman | Source: Midjourney

A hopeful woman | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story: When Belinda jokes about skipping her SIL’s strict vegetarian Thanksgiving, her husband Jeremy’s reaction is anything but funny. His sudden anger and ultimatum for divorce leave her reeling. As tensions rise, Belinda uncovers secrets that hint at a far deeper betrayal hidden in plain sight.

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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