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.
Thanksgiving was supposed to be family time, right? But this year, it felt more like I was heading into a battle I didn’t sign up for.
A troubled woman | Source: Midjourney
It started with my sister-in-law, Amy’s text announcing that she’d be hosting Thanksgiving this year, and that it would be a strictly vegetarian meal. This wasn’t a suggestion, mind you, but a declaration.
I couldn’t help but laugh as I stared at the words on my phone screen: No meat or animal products allowed! Anyone who doesn’t respect this rule will be kicked out. Trust me, you won’t even miss them once you try my Tofurky roast!
Yeah, right. I’d choked down enough of her cardboard-flavored fake meat experiments since she decided to become vegetarian last year to know better.
A vegetarian burger | Source: Pexels
I could hear her voice in my head as I read the text, all high and haughty, the way she sounds when she’s convinced she’s right about something.
“Can you believe Amy’s Thanksgiving dinner message? Can’t she just make a lentil curry instead of forcing us all to eat that awful faux meat?” I turned to Jeremy, expecting him to chuckle along with me, but he just gave me a look that stopped my laughter dead in its tracks.
“It’s just one meal, Belinda,” he said in a low, tense voice. “You can handle it.”
A tense man sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“I know I can handle it,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “I just don’t want to.”
“Why does everything between you and Amy always have to be such a big deal?” he asked, running a hand through his hair, eyes fixed on some invisible spot on the carpet. “It’s a family holiday, and this is important to Amy. For once, can’t you just do something to make her happy?”
I don’t know whether it was the way he suddenly seemed so rigid, or how his voice took on that edge, but something in me snapped.
A woman with an angry glint in her eye | Source: Midjourney
I was tired of constantly bending to Amy’s needs and whims for every family gathering. Maybe it would’ve been easier if she weren’t so controlling and erratic, but I was tired of riding the roller coaster of being Amy’s sister-in-law.
“Because it’s not about the food, and you know it. Amy always steamrolls everyone else’s plans, and it’s not fair.” I crossed my arms, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. “Jeremy, we could just spend Thanksgiving on our own this year. Make a nice dinner, watch a movie…”
He shook his head like I’d just suggested setting the house on fire.
A solemn and serious man | Source: Midjourney
“We’re not skipping Thanksgiving at Amy’s. It’s… you’re not being supportive, Belinda.” He looked at me, then with tightness around his mouth and tension in his shoulders, he said, “If you can’t be there for my family, maybe… well, maybe you shouldn’t be a part of it anymore.”
My jaw dropped. I felt the blood rush to my face, a mix of shock and anger. “You’d really divorce me over one family dinner?”
“It’s not just dinner,” he muttered, looking away. “It’s about supporting each other.”
A stern-looking man | Source: Midjourney
Supporting each other. Right. Except the support only worked one way, and I always came off as second best to his sister.
But I bit my tongue and swallowed the one thousand things I wanted to shout at him, mostly about his unwavering dedication to Amy, which went beyond the typical brotherly concern.
I’d noticed the late-night calls, and the anxious glances when she was around. But I couldn’t quite figure out how to bring it up without sounding… petty and paranoid.
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. We’ll go to Amy’s Thanksgiving,” I said, but the words tasted bitter.
I could feel the weight of his expectations pressing down, and that weight carried me straight into the storm I had no idea was brewing.
The days leading up to Thanksgiving felt like walking through quicksand — every step heavier than the last. Jeremy seemed to slip away right in front of me.
He was always out early and back late, his shoulders hunched under an invisible weight. I’d never seen him so preoccupied, so completely withdrawn, and the walls he’d put up between us grew thicker by the day.
A woman glancing at her husband | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t just his absence. Money, too, had become strangely tight. I noticed him pulling our bank statements more often, scanning them with an intensity that seemed out of character.
He’d insisted on managing our finances when we first married, saying it made sense since he worked in accounting. Back then, I’d shrugged, trusting him completely.
But now, the way he pored over each line, his brow knitted with worry, stirred a growing unease in me. What was he hiding?
A man drinking coffee and working on his laptop | Source: Pexels
One evening, after he’d gone to bed, I gave in to my instincts and pulled up the details for our joint account on my laptop. Guilt whispered that I was crossing a line, but my need for answers drowned it out.
As I scrolled, my breath hitched. Regular withdrawals, small but persistent, were labeled under a vague “medical expenses.” Doctor’s names cropped up every month, one more than the rest.
I typed the name into my browser. The last thing I expected was to find out that the only doctor in the area with that name was a psychologist.
A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels
My heart pounded. During dinner the next night, I worked up the nerve to ask, “Jeremy, are you… are you in therapy?”
His eyes widened, a flicker of something unnameable darting across his face.
“Yeah, sometimes,” he mumbled, too quickly. His hand fumbled for the edge of the table as if anchoring himself. “It’s just… uh, it’s been a rough year. So much stress.”
My stomach twisted. He was lying. My steady, unflinching husband was lying to me, and I didn’t know why.
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
A few nights before Thanksgiving, I woke to the soft murmur of his voice drifting from the living room. Tiptoeing to the doorway, I held my breath, listening.
“I told you I’d handle it,” he whispered, his voice warm and tender. The way he spoke — so careful, so… intimate — it sent a shiver through me.
“You don’t have to worry,” he assured, the words almost a caress. Then there was a long pause, thick and lingering, before he murmured, “Goodnight, Amy.”
A woman eavesdropping from a doorway | Source: Midjourney
As he hung up, my heart plummeted, thudding painfully in my chest.
Amy. Of course.
I wanted to demand answers, to press him until every last hidden truth unraveled before me, but the words stuck in my throat, a bitter knot of suspicion and fear.
If I pried too far, would I even recognize what I found? Or would the truth change everything I thought I knew about my husband and his relationship with his sister?
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
Jeremy was so different now, a stranger masquerading in the familiar face I’d trusted for years. I could feel the edges of something larger, a whole tangled mess of secrets he’d worked tirelessly to keep buried. But there it was, just beneath the surface, waiting to be exposed.
Thanksgiving Eve dawned gray and somber, casting a dull light over the kitchen where I sat, my stomach a knot of nerves and questions.
I couldn’t stomach the idea of sitting across from Amy, pretending nothing was wrong, stuffing my face with tofu roast while my husband’s lies swirled around us. No, I needed to know what they were up to before I walked through that door.
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
Jeremy entered, his face blank with that practiced calm of his, but I could see a flicker of something when he met my gaze. I waited until we were both settled at the table. The fridge hummed in the background, filling the space between us.
“Jeremy, I need to know.” I kept my voice steady, though inside I was anything but. “Why are you so…committed to Amy?”
His face shifted, and for a moment I saw something raw flicker in his eyes before he blinked it away.
A secretive man | Source: Midjourney
“What are you talking about?” He tried for nonchalance, but his hands were clenched tight, his knuckles white against the tabletop.
“All the secrets, the money, the phone calls in the middle of the night.” My voice wavered as the words spilled out, no longer restrained. “Are you hiding something… something I need to worry about?”
He opened his mouth as if to deny it, then shut it again, his gaze darting around the room like he was searching for an escape. But there was none.
A stunned man | Source: Midjourney
Trapped, he let out a small sigh, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his secrets.
“It’s… complicated,” he murmured.
“Try me,” I said, my voice rising with a mix of desperation and anger. “Whatever it is, I deserve to know.”
A thick silence stretched between us, heavy and unyielding. Finally, Jeremy looked away, his face shadowed, haunted by memories he’d kept hidden from me.
A man avoiding eye contact | Source: Midjourney
“Amy has had a lot of issues. Mental health things. She has bipolar disorder. It was bad a few years ago. Really bad.” He paused, his eyes far away. “She was hospitalized for months and when she got out, I was the only one she trusted. So I was there for her. I made sure she was taken care of and felt supported.”
His words sank into me, each one heavy, each one unraveling my understanding of him a little more. So this was the burden he’d been carrying, alone, without letting me in.
A woman looking at her husband in shock | Source: Midjourney
My anger surged, not at Amy’s demands, but at him. At the lie he’d been living and the betrayal that came from not being trusted enough to share his truth with me.
“And all those expenses? They’re for her, aren’t they?”
He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to look at me. “Yes. Therapy, sometimes groceries… whatever she needs.”
A chill settled over me as I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of his confession suffocating. “So, you’ve been lying to me for our entire marriage. About our money, about everything.”
A woman with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
“It wasn’t lying, Belinda,” he insisted softly, his voice breaking, barely above a whisper. “It was just… keeping the peace. I’m her big brother and Amy’s life has been hard enough without having to face people treating her differently because of her illness. I didn’t think you needed to know about any of this.”
I wanted to scream at him, shake him until he understood the cost of his silence. Instead, I sat there, silent, as the reality of what he’d done washed over me like a tidal wave.
I shook my head, feeling the tears rise, hot and unforgiving.
A tearful woman | Source: Midjourney
“But what about us? Keeping this secret has been tearing us apart, Jeremy. And you’re so focused on Amy and protecting her from everything that you’re willing to lose your wife over Thanksgiving dinner.”
He stared at me, his face a mix of sorrow and regret. “I… I didn’t know it would come to this.”
“Well, here we are.” I took a shaky breath, gathering the last of my resolve. “And Jeremy, you need to make a choice.”
A woman frowning sadly | Source: Midjourney
“Not between Amy and me,” I added. “I would never ask you to abandon your sister. But you need to choose between hiding things and being honest. Between enabling Amy’s controlling behavior and setting healthy boundaries. Between being her caretaker and being my partner.”
The silence that followed felt endless. When Jeremy finally spoke, his voice was thick with tears.
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
“I’m scared,” he admitted. “What if setting boundaries makes her worse? What if she can’t handle it?”
“What if she can?” I countered gently. “What if she’s stronger than you think? What if she needs the chance to stand on her own two feet?”
“I… I don’t know if I can risk losing her.”
A sad man | Source: Midjourney
I stared at Jeremy and sighed. It felt like we were at an impasse with no obvious way forward. Amy couldn’t keep running our lives, but I understood Jeremy’s reluctance to confront his sister.
One thing is clear: we can’t carry on like this. After everything I’d uncovered over the past few days, I wasn’t even sure our marriage was built on a solid enough foundation to be worth saving.
What should I do now?
A conflicted woman | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story: Ten years after vanishing without a trace, Sara’s ex-fiancé, Daniel, reappears on her doorstep with a lawyer, demanding custody of the son he’d abandoned. Secrets unravel as Sara fights to protect the life she built with Adam, and the true reason behind Daniel’s sudden return threatens everything.
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.
After returning from my honeymoon, I discovered a large black box in my hallway — the shocking contents inside turned my world upside down
When Lori and Chris return from their dreamy honeymoon, they are eager to welcome life as a married couple. But as they enter their home, they find a large black box in their hallway. What would have been a wedding present turns into the very thing that destroys their relationship…
The moment we got home, everything felt perfect. The trip had been beautiful, with turquoise waters and sandy beaches, and Chris and I had no worries in the world. All we wanted to do was bask in the bliss of our wedding and the anticipation of our married life together.
As we walked through our front door, everything looked exactly as we had left it, down to the perfectly fluffed couch cushions. Except for the massive black box sitting in the hallway.
I stopped in my tracks.
“What is that?” I asked, the words hanging between us.
I would have thought that maybe it was a welcome-home gift from Chris, but the look on his face told me that it wasn’t.
Chris shrugged, frowning.
“That wasn’t here when we left,” he said.
A note rested on the hallway table beside it, the writing jagged and unfamiliar. I picked it up, feeling a chill in the air.
Lori, open this alone.
I handed it to Chris. We stared at the note, then the box, the weight of it settling into my stomach like a bad premonition.
“Are you sure it’s not from you?” I asked him.
“No, darling,” he said, his frown setting deeper.
“I don’t like this one bit,” I said.
“Well, let’s open it together,” Chris suggested, his tone calm but his eyes cautious. “Just in case it’s something dangerous, you know?”
I nodded. I trusted him completely. Whatever this was, we’d face it side by side. That’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re married, right?
Chris grabbed a knife from the kitchen and carefully cut through the tape. I held my breath as he pulled the flaps open. Inside was something soft—a huge stuffed bear, bigger than anything I’d ever seen, with a giant red heart sewn onto its chest.
We both blinked.
“Seriously?” Chris muttered, his tension evaporating.
I laughed.
“Someone must be messing with us,” he laughed.
“It’s a bit creepy, if I’m being honest,” I said.
“Yeah, let’s just throw it into the basement until we figure out what to do with it. Maybe we should donate it.”
But I wasn’t so sure. Something about the bear felt off. I stepped closer, eyeing the heart on its chest, where the words “Press Me” were embroidered in tiny script.
“I don’t know…” I hesitated, reaching toward the toy.
“Go ahead,” Chris urged when he saw the script. “It’s just a toy. Let’s see what it has to say.”
I pressed the heart, not knowing that our entire world was about to collapse.
A little girl’s voice echoed from the bear.
“Daddy? Daddy, are you there?”
Chris froze beside me. I turned to him, wanting to understand the change in his demeanor. His face was pale, his eyes wide.
The voice continued.
“Daddy, when are you coming to see me? I miss you.”
I felt my pulse hammering in my throat, making me nauseous. The room was suddenly too small. Chris wouldn’t even look at me.
“Daddy, will you come today? Will you come visit me? I’m still in the hospital…”
Then, another voice. A deeper, familiar voice cut through the silence.
“I’m busy, sweetheart. I’ll visit soon.”
It was Chris.
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
“Chris?” I whispered. “That’s you? Really?”
The recording continued.
“Please, Daddy? It’s lonely and cold here. Mom is working…”
“I can’t, Kira,” Chris said. “I have things to do.”
There was a beep, and the recording stopped. But the conversation lingered in the air like smoke, suffocating us both. I couldn’t breathe.
“Is this… is this real or some horrible joke?” I asked flatly.
Chris stared at the floor, his hands shaking.
Who was this man? Had I really married a man who had an entire past that I didn’t know about?
“Lori, I don’t know what to say,” Chris started saying.
But I barely heard him. Next to the bear, something caught my eye. A white envelope tucked into the box. I grabbed it, ripped it open, and unfolded the letter inside.
I took a deep breath before reading the letter:
Lori,
Three years ago, your husband abandoned his sick daughter and myself. Our little girl had cancer. Chris promised to help, but one day, he disappeared. He just moved to another state, leaving us behind without a word. I worked multiple jobs, trying to pay for her treatments, which cost me precious moments with my child.
In the end, nothing was enough. The surgery didn’t work. The treatment didn’t work. She died, Lori. My child died at five years old. And all she had left was this toy he sent her before vanishing from our lives. I bet he doesn’t even remember.
I felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest. My vision blurred, and the room tilted as if the ground was giving way beneath my feet.
I read on, allowing the words to slice me open.
I’m not writing this letter for revenge. I just want you to know the kind of man you’re with. If he could leave a dying child—his dying child—imagine what he’ll do to you when life gets tough. Will he leave you and your child, too? Attached are court documents. I’m filing for child support for the years he abandoned us. I’m not doing this to hurt you. But I wanted to warn you, woman to woman—this man isn’t who he says.
My mind swirled, and my nausea grew worse, but I forced myself to look at the papers inside the envelope. They were court documents, just like the letter said.
“Chris, is this true?” I asked.
But he was already backing away.
“Stand and talk to me!” I shrieked.
“I thought… I thought I could leave it all behind, Lori,” he said. “I swear, I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
“Leave it behind?” I spat the words at him, disbelief crashing over me. “You had a daughter. A sick daughter! And you just left her!”
He shook his head, as if trying to shake the truth away.
“I thought I could start over, Lori,” he said.
“You thought you could erase them? Pretend like they never existed? Just move on, like nothing happened?”
Visions of a sick child clouded my brain.
Chris’s silence answered my question. I felt disgust churn in my stomach. The man I had just married, the man that I thought I knew so well…
Now, he was nothing but a stranger.
“I can’t do this,” I said. “I can’t stay married to you. I can’t stay married to a man who could abandon his own child. For goodness’ sake, Chris. I can’t even look at you.”
“Lori, please,” he begged. “I can explain it all.”
“Just take your things and get out,” I said.
“Lori, you don’t mean that. We just got married. We can fix this. We can talk it through.”
“No,” I said. “You lied to me. You lied to her. You let that little girl die thinking that you didn’t care about her. I can’t be with someone like that… I can’t think about having a family with someone like that.”
Chris opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He turned away, and I watched as he gathered his things in silence.
When he finally walked out the door, the house felt unnervingly quiet. I stood alone in the hallway, the black box still open, the stuffed bear sitting there like some twisted reminder of everything that had unfolded.
I made myself a cup of tea and went to sit outside on the porch. I couldn’t imagine that I was here, sitting and thinking about filing for divorce the next day.
I had been married for a solid 17 days. A part of me wondered if Chris and I could have moved past this…
But what would it say about me? That I didn’t see anything wrong with a man who left his family just because things were dark and difficult?
No. I couldn’t do that.
What would you have done?
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