Angelica’s seemingly perfect marriage unraveled at her high school reunion after an old friend revealed a shocking secret about her husband, Tom. Devastated, Angelica must now confront him and decide how to move forward with her life.
My name is Angelica, and I still remember the first time I met Tom in high school. From the start, everyone knew we were meant to be together. We both came from affluent families, living a life of comfort and privilege.
A happy couple | Source: Pexels
“We’re like a fairy tale,” Tom often said, smiling at me.
After college, we married and built a beautiful home together. We were blessed with two wonderful children, Emma and Jack. Our life was filled with family vacations, elegant dinners, and social gatherings.
“Our house feels like a dream,” I often told Tom. “I love our life.”
A luxury house | Source: Pexels
“Me too, Angelica,” Tom would reply. “We’re so lucky.”
Weekends were spent playing with the kids in our backyard, hosting BBQs for friends and family, and enjoying quiet evenings together. One Saturday, as we grilled burgers, Emma and Jack ran around playing tag. Tom looked at me and said, “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”
“Neither would I,” I agreed, feeling content.
Grilling meat | Source: Pexels
To the outside world, we were the perfect couple. We rarely argued, always supported each other’s ambitions, and seemed to have everything one could wish for in a marriage.
Our friends often told us how lucky we were. They envied our love story, which seemed right out of a romantic movie. I often heard comments like, “You guys are the perfect couple,” and “I hope my marriage is as strong as yours.”
Then, one day, we received an invitation to our high school reunion. It had been ten years since we last saw our classmates, and we couldn’t wait to catch up with old friends.
An invitation | Source: Pexels
“Can you believe it’s been ten years?” Tom asked, looking at the invitation.
“It feels like yesterday,” I replied, excitement bubbling up. “It will be fun to see everyone again.”
We spent the next few weeks talking about the reunion, reminiscing about our high school days, and wondering what everyone else had been up to.
“Do you think Sarah will be there?” I asked Tom one evening.
“I hope so,” he said. “It would be great to see her again.”
A couple talking | Source: Pexels
The night of the reunion finally arrived. We walked into the venue, excitement buzzing in the air. The room was decorated with old photos and school colors. Laughter and chatter filled the space as we greeted old friends.
“Angelica! Tom!” someone called out. We turned to see Sarah, an old classmate from a humble background who had been close to us during our school years.
“Sarah! It’s so good to see you,” I said, hugging her tightly.
“I’ve missed you both,” Sarah replied, smiling warmly.
A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
As we caught up, Sarah showed us pictures of her children. “These are my pride and joy,” she said, her eyes shining with pride.
“They’re beautiful,” I said, smiling. “How old are they now?”
“Emily is eight, and Joshua is ten,” Sarah replied, beaming. “They keep me busy, that’s for sure.”
Tom looked at the photos and said, “You must be so proud, Sarah.”
Siblings playing | Source: Pexels
“I am,” she said, her voice filled with love. “They mean the world to me.”
As I looked closer at the photos, my heart skipped a beat. There, on the neck of Sarah’s eldest child, Joshua, was a distinct birthmark identical to the one my husband has. A wave of nausea washed over me. I blinked, hoping I was imagining things, but the birthmark remained. It was unmistakable.
Tom stepped away to catch up with his old buddies, leaving me alone with Sarah. My mind raced with thoughts. I tried to keep my composure, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
A serious shocked woman | Source: Pexels
“Sarah,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she replied, her eyes widening.
“That birthmark… on Joshua’s neck. It’s just like Tom’s. It’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it?” I said, trying to sound casual, but my heart was pounding in my chest.
Sarah looked at me, eyes filled with sorrow and regret. “Angelica, I can’t lie anymore. Back in high school, Tom and I… we had an affair. It was brief, and we both regretted it. But then I found out I was pregnant.”
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “Pregnant?” I whispered, barely able to form the words.
Sarah nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “Yes. When I told Tom, he was shocked. He didn’t know what to do, so he told his parents. They all decided it was best to keep it a secret. They offered me a large sum of money and agreed to provide informal child support until Joshua turned 18, in exchange for my silence. They didn’t want to lose you as a daughter-in-law, coming from such a noble and wealthy family.”
A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels
I stared at her, trying to process what I was hearing. “So… Joshua is Tom’s son?” My voice trembled, and I felt a lump in my throat.
“Yes,” Sarah replied, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Angelica. I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought this was the best way to handle it at the time. But living with this secret has been eating me up inside.”
I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to comprehend the betrayal. Without another word, I stood up and walked away, my heart shattered.
A close-up shot of a crying woman | Source: Pexels
The shock and devastation hit me like a tidal wave. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Betrayal, anger, sadness, and confusion all swirled together. I started to cry, unable to contain the overwhelming pain. I knew I couldn’t stay at the reunion any longer. I needed to get away, to process everything that had just been revealed.
I hurried out of the venue and drove home in a daze. When I arrived, I didn’t say anything to Tom. I just started packing. Tom followed me into the bedroom, his face etched with concern.
A worried man | Source: Pexels
“Angelica, what’s wrong? Why are you packing?” he asked, his voice trembling.
I glared at him, the weight of the secret suffocating me. “Don’t you dare act clueless, Tom,” I snapped, tears welling up in my eyes. “I know everything.”
His face went pale. “What are you talking about?”
“You lied to me for years,” I shouted, my voice breaking. “Sarah told me everything.”
Tom’s eyes widened in panic. “Angelica, please, let me explain—”
A couple arguing | Source: Pexels
“No,” I cut him off, my voice firm. “I’m done listening to your lies.”
I gathered the children’s things and loaded them into the car. Emma and Jack looked at me with confused eyes, but I couldn’t find the words to explain. I just needed to get away, to find solace somewhere.
“Mommy, where are we going?” Emma asked, her voice small.
“We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
A woman driving at night | Source: Midjourney
Together with the children, I drove to my parents’ house in another city. The journey felt like a blur, my mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and heartbreak. When we arrived, my parents welcomed us with open arms, sensing that something was terribly wrong. I broke down and told them everything. They were shocked and devastated for me, but they offered unwavering support.
“We’re here for you, Angelica,” my mother said, holding me close. “Whatever you need, we’ll help you through this.”
A welcoming elderly lady | Source: Pexels
Over the next few days, I began to come to terms with the betrayal. The pain was still raw, but I knew I had to be strong for Emma and Jack. I started preparing for the divorce process. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I knew it was the right one. Tom’s betrayal had shattered the trust in our marriage, and there was no way to rebuild it.
My parents were my rock during this time. They helped me care for the children and offered emotional support. Their love and understanding gave me the strength I needed to move forward.
A happy elderly couple | Source: Pexels
As I prepared for the divorce, I felt a sense of resolve. This wasn’t the end for me; it was a new beginning. I was determined to move forward for the sake of my children and myself.
I found a lawyer and started the necessary paperwork. Each step in the process was painful, but it also felt like a step toward healing. I knew I had a long road ahead, but I was ready to face it.
Divorce papers | Source: Pexels
With the support of my family, I began to see a future beyond the betrayal. A future where I could find happiness and stability for myself and my children. I was preparing for a new chapter in my life, determined to move forward with resilience and hope.
This wasn’t the end of my story, but the beginning of a new one. One where I would emerge stronger, wiser, and ready to embrace whatever the future held.
A hopeful woman | Source: Pexels
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.
Woman Told Her Daughter Her Father Had Died – Years Later, the Girl Discovered a Heartbreaking Truth
When Cassie returns from a getaway with her husband and son, she walks into her home to see a cryptic message from her mother — telling her to watch a video. As Cassie presses play, her entire life changes. In the end, she’s left wondering which of her parents are worthy of forgiveness.
In my eyes, my father could do no wrong. He was everything I needed him to be and more. He was a businessman who was always traveling, but he ensured that he made enough time for me.
“You’re my little girl, Cassie,” he would say, bopping my nose with his index finger. “You’re the most special.”
A father carrying his daughter | Source: Pexels
My parents always went out of their way for me — ensuring that despite their busy schedules, we would have family dinner almost every night.
It was the one thing that kept me grounded while both of my friends from school were in the middle of their parents’ messy divorces.
“I think it’s trendy now,” I told my mother as she cut slices of banana bread for me after school one day.
Sliced banana bread | Source: Unsplash
“Cas, you cannot think that divorce is trendy,” she laughed. “It’s devastating and traumatic, and very few families actually keep things civil.”
“I’m just saying that it’s trendy because a lot of kids live between two homes,” I explained to her. “It’s one of those things we were talking about in class today.”
I was fourteen, and the world seemed more dramatic than it should have been.
A smiling girl in a hoodie | Source: Pexels
But what I didn’t know was that my words seemed to be an incantation that settled over our home.
A few weeks after that conversation, my father went away on a business trip. A few hours after he had been gone, there was news of his passing.
“How?” I asked. “How did he die?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Cassie,” she replied. “I’m just saying what the paramedics told me.”
Two paramedics standing | Source: Pexels
“So what will we do next?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled by the question.
“For the funeral?” I asked. “Aren’t we going to have one?”
“I don’t think so,” my mother replied. “Dad wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread at the beach. Let’s do that instead.”
A black and white urn | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t fathom why my mother would want to do that — but at the end of the day, she knew my father best. And the longer I thought about it, the more beautiful and sentimental a private ceremony at the beach felt.
“Don’t be difficult, Cassie,” my mother said when she saw me thinking about my next move.
“I’m not,” I said. “Really. I was just thinking about it. It’s a great idea, Mom.”
A pathway to the beach | Source: Unsplash
I could have fought her for a send-off that I thought would have been more appropriate. But what use would it have been? At the end of the day, we had both lost him.
The months following the beach ceremony felt weighted, and I knew that I was becoming deeply depressed — my father had been our world. And his absence was felt more than anything.
But, with time, I learned to live with it.
A girl sitting on the floor and looking out the window | Source: Pexels
Last week, I decided to book a cabin in the woods for a little family vacation. My son was adamant that camping was the new best thing, and I knew that despite the wonders of nature, I wasn’t going to camp in a tent without a bathroom in sight.
Instead, I thought that a cabin would be the best option — my husband, Derek, could camp outside with Drew, our son, if he insisted on it.
A cabin in the woods | Source: Unsplash
We had a dog, therefore, I asked my mother to house-sit for the week so that we could be at peace, knowing that Romeo was taken care of.
A week away was more than enough to restore my mind — and eventually, when we went back home, I was surprised to see that my mother wasn’t there. In fact, it looked like she had never been there.
A dog lying on the grass | Source: Unsplash
But there, on the coffee table, was a note beneath the TV remote.
Watch this, Cassie. I’m sorry. — Mom
I didn’t know what was in store for me, but while Derek got Drew into the bath, I put the TV on and began to watch whatever my mother had planned.
The TV flickered to life, and there he was, my father, his voice a long-lost melody, his image aged but still, unmistakably him.
A person holding a TV remote | Source: Unsplash
Tears streamed down my face as the realization that he was still alive enveloped me in a mix of joy and disbelief.
The video message was nothing short of unpredictable.
My dear Cassie, I’m still here, alive. I’m so sorry for the pain that you must have felt from my loss. But it was needed. I needed to be removed from your life because of the sordid truth of my past. Your mother knows everything, please ask her for the truth.
My health is on a steady decline, and I would love to see you and explain it all.
Love you, Dad.
An old man | Source: Pexels
Without telling Derek or Drew anything, I grabbed the car keys and ran out. I needed my mother to explain.
“So, I bet you’ve got questions for me,” she said, opening the door.
“Explain it all,” I said.
“Cassie, it’s heavy. You look tired from your trip; are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked.
I nodded. It was now or never. I needed to know why my father faked his own death to get out of our lives.
My mother made us some tea and took out some shortbread.
Shortbread cookies on a plate | Source: Unsplash
“Darling,” she said. “I’ll understand if you don’t forgive me, but there’s so much about that time that I need to tell you.”
I sipped my tea, trying to figure out what my mother was about to tell me.
“I remember that you were telling me about your friend’s parents getting divorced. Do you remember that?” she asked.
I nodded. Of course, I did. It was the strangest thing, but it was so common when I was in school.
“Well, your father and I were not legally married. So when I told him about our conversation regarding divorce, he was actually relieved. Without being married, there would be no divorce.”
A marriage certificate | Source: Unsplash
“What’s the big deal?” I asked.
“Then I found out that the real reason that we didn’t get married was because your father was already married to another woman.”
“What?” I exclaimed, almost dropping my cup. “To who?”
“To a woman in the town where he always had his business trips.”
“You didn’t know?” I asked, unable to believe her words.
A couple showing off their wedding rings | Source: Unsplash
“Of course not!” she exclaimed. “But when I pressed him about it, he decided to choose that family over us. So, I told him that the story was going to be his death.”
We were both silent for a moment.
Turns out that my mother told him that she would never tell me the truth, not when he was my favorite person. She couldn’t burst my bubble in that way. And she refused to let him see me one more time.
“It was better for you to think that it was an accident,” my mother said. “It just made more sense.”
Now, I understood why we didn’t have a funeral for him.
“What did we throw into the sea, then?” I asked.
“Dust,” she replied with a straight face.
A cloud of dust | Source: Unsplash
My mother had spoken to him twice over the years. The second time being a day ago.
During their meeting, my father confessed his imminent death due to illness and requested that she give me the recording. My mother, torn by guilt and love, chose to write me the note and have the recording all set for me to watch.
“I would have taken the secret to my grave,” she said. “But knowing that he was ill and wanted to see you just struck something in me.”
A cemetery | Source: Pexels
Compelled by a need to confront the reality of my father’s existence, I traveled to the state where he lived with his other family.
I spent a few weeks with my father — going in and out of hospitals, watching him take an array of different medication, and growing weaker by the day.
Sitting at his bedside, I listened to his stories, the regrets, the moments of joy, and the love he had for all his children — myself included.
When things started to go downhill, I asked Derek to fly over with Drew. It was going to be a fleeting moment, but at least I’d know that my son had met my father.
A sick old man | Source: Pexels
A few days later, my father died.
Even now, I don’t know if I’ve forgiven him for the lie of having a double life. I just know that when it came to it in the end — I wanted to spend time with him. I had shoved my feelings aside, hoping for memories that I could figure out later.
But now that the dust has settled, I’m trying to figure out if I should forgive my mother for lying.
Flowers on a grave | Source: Pexels
What would you do?
Here’s another story for you | After Celine’s father dies, she is left with having to navigate the weight of her grief. Everywhere she turns, there are pieces of her father. On her many trips to the cemetery, she finds that there are always fresh flowers left.
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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