Marcus thought he’d done everything right after deciding to divorce his wife, Izzy. But his new girlfriend’s presence at his daughter’s 15th birthday party ended up with cackling laughs, a terrible slap, and a revelation he never expected.
I thought I was on the correct path when someone new and exciting came into my life. It was impulsive and fast, but it felt like the right thing, and it ruined everything.
After 20 years of marriage to Isabel, or “Izzy” to everyone who knew her well, I’d thought there would be no excitement left in life. Nothing new. But then, out of the blue, I met Jenna at a friend’s board game night that my wife didn’t attend.
A woman at a board game party | Source: Midjourney
Before you get any ideas, I’m 49. My wife is 47, and Jenna is 46. This isn’t the typical story of a man who leaves his wife for a young girl.
Jenna felt like someone had lit a spark in me I didn’t even know I’d lost. We just clicked. I can’t explain it in a less cliché way. But I knew one thing for certain: I would never cheat on my wife.
So, I faced the difficult choice of picking between 20 years of loyalty and two kids versus the chance of a new romance. It would’ve been a no-brainer for most people.
A businessman thinking | Source: Midjourney
But it felt right, especially after I ran into Jenna at two different coffee shops, and even the supermarket, days after the party. It was fate, so impulse took over.
I told Izzy I wanted a divorce. Remembering that day is still painful and makes me want to go back in time, like that scene in “Interstellar.”
“MAKE HIM STAY, MURPH!”
A man in an astronaut suit | Source: Midjourney
Anyway, it was late in the evening when I got home from work, and the house felt emptier than usual. I knew our daughter, Maya, was at volleyball practice. Our son, Caleb, had his own college dorm, but he was sometimes around. Not that night, though.
I’d been thinking about Jenna all day and felt guilt as I spotted my wife. She was going through some work emails, and when I walked in, she looked up with her familiar warm smile. I wished Izzy wouldn’t have grinned at me.
Before I knew it, the words tumbled out: “I think… I think we need to talk about us. About…me wanting a divorce.”
A man looking nervous as he speaks | Source: Midjourney
The smile on her face and the light in her eyes faded into blankness. She was quiet for a long time after, and I was almost grateful for that silence.
But when she finally spoke, her voice was steady but strained. “You’re serious? After twenty years, just like that? Out of the blue?”
I tried to explain, saying things like “We’ve grown apart” and “It’s not you, it’s me.” More clichés that tasted bitter in my mouth. Yet, Izzy listened without interrupting.
A woman looking serious | Source: Midjourney
Eventually, she nodded, a sad smile barely curving her lips. “If this is what you want, Marcus, I won’t stand in your way. I hope you never come to regret this.”
***
That night haunted me for weeks, but Jenna and I moved forward. And surprisingly, the divorce went smoothly. Caleb and Maya seemed to handle the news as well as they could.
It was also good timing because my son was 19 and my daughter was almost 15. They could understand more easily.
After I explained, they nodded and acted politely, though my daughter barely looked at me. Caleb wrinkled his nose several times.
A young man looking angry | Source: Midjourney
I knew I should’ve talked to them before jumping the gun, but I didn’t want to overthink it or spoil my chance at this piece of happiness.
Meanwhile, Jenna was a breath of fresh air. She made me feel younger, and freer, like I could finally be myself again. Our dates were amazing, and she was completely focused on me. I was the sun in her galaxy. That makes a man stand taller and, honestly, more confident.
After that, things just fell into place. The divorce was amicable, though lengthy because of all our assets and the laws in our state.
As man holding some documents and smiling slightly | Source: Midjourney
My kids were also adjusting seemingly okay, though Maya had to alternate between houses. But this was our new normal, and I was genuinely happy.
Months passed, and the divorce was finalized without an issue. So, when Maya’s 15th birthday came up, I thought long and hard but concluded that it was time to introduce Jenna to everyone.
It wasn’t the easiest decision because the party was being held at my ex-mother-in-law’s house, but many of my relatives would also be there. In my mind, it was the right time.
An older woman at the front porch of a nice house | Source: Midjourney
Jenna and I walked through the door, and many did double takes. Still, my family was friendly and welcoming while I introduced my beautiful girlfriend proudly.
As we moved deeper into the house, toward the backyard, I caught sight of David, Izzy’s brother. He looked us up and down as his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. I froze for a second.
But Jenna leaned into me, squeezing my arm, and whispered, “Ignore him.” I smiled at her, nodded at my still-scowling ex-brother-in-law, and finally stepped out into the backyard, where most of the attendees were.
A backyard where people are gathered for a party | Source: Midjourney
I was looking for Maya and Caleb, specifically. But I wasn’t distracted enough to not notice the immediate change in the air.
The chatter had stopped, and only the music from unseen speakers kept going. Instead of my children, I saw my ex-wife first.
She was by the drinks table, talking to some people until she noticed the atmosphere shift, too, and turned toward us. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked completely stunned as her eyes darted between me and Jenna.
A woman stunned at something standing to the side | Source: Midjourney
I expected the tension. I even thought she would be angry, but I was sure I could explain any trouble away. Except, without warning, Izzy blurted, “You idiot!” and burst into laughter. The sound was loud and uncontrollable.
I froze again, as everyone turned to her in confusion. My kids, who I finally noticed, had been at a table eating burgers, but they stood and looked just as perplexed as everyone else.
I looked at my girlfriend and noticed her smile had frozen. She looked around and swallowed, nervously. But before I could ask her or Izzy what was going on, I saw Gloria, Izzy’s mother, stomping toward us.
An older woman angry | Source: Midjourney
Her face was red with anger. She stopped just inches from Jenna and, without warning, slapped her hard across the face.
My girlfriend staggered back, her hand flying up to her cheek, eyes wide with shock. I moved forward, trying to shield her, but Gloria wasn’t finished.
“How dare you show your face here!” she screamed her fury at Jenna. “After everything you did to my daughter? You think you can walk in here?!”
“Gloria, what the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, trying to push her away gently.
A man looking confused and upset | Source: Midjourney
Suddenly, my ex-brother-in-law stepped forward and put his arms on Gloria to hold her back while glaring at Jenna with open hatred.
“You really don’t know, do you?” he spat, looking at me like I was the biggest fool on earth. “This woman,” he pointed at Jenna, “was Izzy’s high school bully. She tormented her, and it was relentless!”
My stomach twisted as I looked at Jenna, who was staring at the ground, refusing to meet my eyes. “Is… is this true?” I whispered.
Jenna hesitated, then nodded tightly. “Yes, but that was years ago. I was young and stupid…”
A woman looking serious | Source: Midjourney
David cut her off. “It wasn’t just high school, Marcus! She tried to get Izzy kicked out of college. Spread lies and accused her of cheating on exams and plagiarizing papers all her freshman year.”
I stepped back, shaking my head. “No, that can’t be,” I said, turning to Jenna. “Tell them that wasn’t you!”
“It was her,” David spat. “She almost destroyed my sister’s future because she was too stupid to get into college!”
A middle-aged man in front of an older woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney
Those words set fire to Jenna. “I WASN’T STUPID!” she yelled at him but quickly turned to me. “Yes, I did those things, Marcus. It’s true. But people change. Doesn’t that count for something?”
My head was spinning. “Did you know she was my wife when we met and kept running into each other?” I asked.
Jenna looked down and nodded.
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Gloria screamed, thrashing in David’s arms.
An upset older woman pointing | Source: Midjourney
“Please, Marcus. Leave with me, and I’ll explain everything,” Jenna said, trying to touch my arm, but I was done with her.
“No,” I said, and this time, my voice cracked.
A hard look came over her face. “You think you’re so perfect? You think you didn’t hurt anyone? You left your wife and kids just because you were bored. This isn’t all on me!”
A woman looking upset | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know if she said that out of spite, to hurt me, or to justify herself. But she turned and walked away with her head held high, though I could see the redness of her cheek from Gloria’s slap.
When she was out of sight, I noticed the entire backyard was silent. Everyone watched me, waiting for something.
There was pity in my relatives’ eyes, but contempt in Izzy’s side of the family. Caleb stood off to the side with his arms crossed and his face tight. Maya looked at me like I was a stranger.
A teenage girl, looking sad | Source: Midjourney
“Dad,” she whispered. “How could you?”
“Maya, I didn’t know any of this!” I cried out.
Caleb walked forward. “Honestly? You didn’t know?” he asked. My son had always been the suspicious type, always analyzing why people did or acted in certain ways.
“It doesn’t matter!” Maya continued angrily. “You broke our family for NOTHING!”
Those words hit me harder than anything else that day.
A man looking sad | Source: Midjourney
I’d spent months convincing myself I was doing the right thing. That it was meant to be because things were going so smoothly. Everyone seemed happy!
But my kids weren’t. At all. That’s what I realized at that moment. Yet, I still felt like the wronged party.
Throughout all this, Izzy had said nothing. She stood there and watched it play out like it was none of her business. I don’t know why I hated that so much. It was to her that I yelled, “IT WASN’T MY FAULT! I DIDN’T KNOW!” before walking out in shame.
A sad man looking at something to the side | Source: Midjourney
***
In the days that followed, I calmed down and tried reaching out to my kids. Caleb responded occasionally but was always short with his answers. Maya didn’t respond at all. I didn’t dare call Izzy.
At first, I was defensive and told myself that no part of this was my doing. I had no clue. I’d just fallen in love. My relatives who were at the party eventually understood that, but the fact that my children couldn’t made me resentful.
After all, I’d cut Jenna off for good. She kept texting me, but I eventually blocked her. But no one was giving me the chance to explain it. Weeks later, I ran into my cousin and vented some of my feelings to her. By the end of that meeting, she gave me the business card of a therapist.
A woman holding a business card | Source: Midjourney
I called only a few days later. One thing he said actually put things into perspective.
“Whether you knew or not is irrelevant. You chose the divorce. You hurt your family on an impulse, as you’ve told me,” the doctor began. “What your ex-in-laws revealed was a bombshell, for sure. But at the end of the day, what matters now? Do you want to lose your kids for good?”
No, I didn’t want that. And after that simple realization, everything else he said in just one session made sense. I saw all the selfishness and stupidity I’d displayed. So, I took action.
A man in an office | Source: Midjourney
First, I called David, and I got the full detailed story of how Jenna almost ruined Izzy’s future. They’d needed lawyers and cops to finally get her to stop and disappear from their lives. During our talk, he called me many names and insults and told me Jenna had played me.
I knew and was glad that, at least, my love for her was gone. She wasn’t going to play me ever again. I asked for David’s forgiveness and he gave it grudgingly.
Afterward, I called my ex-mother-in-law and begged her to see my perspective. She forgave me only after giving me a two-hour lecture. She also told me I would never find someone as great as her daughter. That was true.
An older woman looking angry while on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I would never have Izzy as my wife again, but she was the mother of my children and the person I called next. This was the most painful conversation. Aside from forgiveness, I had to beg her for help with the kids.
I couldn’t let my relationship with them be completely destroyed. Fortunately, Izzy was gracious enough to agree after telling me that I really had no way of knowing who Jenna was. I breathed a sigh at last.
It took several weeks, but eventually, she called me, saying Caleb and Maya were open to having a deep conversation with me. We had to start slow, though. It had to be on their terms.
A man looking thoughtful | Source: Midjourney
This is my ONE chance to make things TRULY right and get my children back. I’m seeing them tomorrow. Wish me luck.
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.
Old Woman Finds Note at Son’s Grave That Will Leave You in Tears
For Nancy, her son Henry was everything; she could not imagine life without him. It had been 23 years since the terrible accident that took Henry’s life. Every year on that day, she brought his favorite pie to his grave to remember him. But this year, something was about to change.
For 23 years, Nancy, now 61, had never missed a single year on this date. She baked her late son’s favorite pie and took it to his grave each year since he passed away.
The pie, a simple but delicious apple and cinnamon treat, had been Henry’s favorite since he was a child.
The smell of apples and cinnamon reminded her of when Henry was young, running into the kitchen with his eyes shining at the sight of the pie.
On this day, just like every year before, Nancy carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the graveyard.
The dish felt heavier as she walked toward Henry’s resting place. The grave was neat and covered in flowers, showing how much he was still loved.
The stone had become smoother over the years because she often ran her fingers over it, lost in her memories.
Nancy knelt and placed the pie gently on the gravestone. Her heart ached as she began to speak, her voice quiet, as if Henry might somehow hear her.
“Henry, I hope you’re at peace, my love. I miss you every day. I baked your favorite pie again. Remember how we used to bake it together? You always snuck a taste before it was done.”
She smiled, but her eyes were misty with tears. “I wish we could do that one more time.”
The familiar sorrow welled up inside her, but Nancy had learned over the years to push through the tears.
She quickly wiped her eyes and managed a small smile. After a few more moments of silence, she kissed her fingers and touched the top of the gravestone as she said her quiet goodbye.
Then, with a heavy but comforted heart, she turned and walked away, knowing she would be back next year, just like always.
The next day, as part of her routine, Nancy returned to Henry’s grave to clean up the remains of the pie.
Usually, by the time she returned, the pie was either untouched or spoiled by the weather, a quiet reminder of her son’s absence.
She found it bittersweet, knowing the pie stayed where she left it, as if waiting for him.
But today, as she approached the grave, something felt different. Nancy’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the plate was clean—completely empty. For a moment, she stood frozen in disbelief.
Then, she noticed something else. Resting on the plate was a small piece of paper, folded in half.
Nancy’s hands trembled as she picked up the note. Her breath caught in her throat as she unfolded it.
The handwriting was shaky, as though the writer had struggled to form the letters. The simple words read: “Thank you.”
Her heart pounded with confusion and anger.
“Who took Henry’s pie?” she muttered under her breath, clutching the note tightly. “This was for my son. No one had the right to touch it!”
Her private ritual, her way of honoring and remembering her son, had been disturbed by a stranger.
She felt violated, as if someone had stolen a piece of her grief.
With her emotions swirling—part outrage, part confusion—Nancy left the cemetery, determined to find the person who had taken her son’s pie. She needed to know who had done this and why.
Determined to catch the culprit, Nancy decided to take action. She couldn’t let someone continue to disrupt how she honored Henry. So, she made a plan.
That night, she baked another of Henry’s favorite pies, the same apple and cinnamon recipe she had been making for over twenty years.
The next morning, with renewed resolve, she placed the freshly baked pie on Henry’s grave, just like before, but this time she wasn’t leaving.
She found a large oak tree nearby and hid behind it, close enough to see the grave but far enough to not be noticed.
The warm aroma of the pie drifted through the air, filling the quiet cemetery.
Time passed slowly as Nancy watched and waited, her heart racing in anticipation.
An hour later, she spotted movement. A small figure cautiously approached the grave. Nancy squinted, leaning forward to get a better look.
It wasn’t the greedy thief she had imagined. No, this was something entirely different.
A young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt smudged on his face, moved toward the pie with careful steps.
Nancy’s heart tightened as she watched him. The boy didn’t immediately take the pie.
Instead, he knelt by the grave and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small scrap of paper and a dull pencil. His hand trembled as he carefully scribbled something on the paper, his brow furrowed with concentration.
It was clear the boy struggled with writing, but he took his time, making sure each word was clear.
Nancy’s heart softened as she saw him write “Thank you” on the paper, just like before. He wasn’t a thief; he was just a hungry child, grateful for the kindness of a pie left behind.
The anger that had once consumed Nancy melted away in an instant. She realized this boy wasn’t stealing; he was surviving. He was in need, and her son’s favorite pie had brought him comfort.
As the boy began to pick up the pie, his small hands shaking, Nancy stepped out from her hiding spot.
The rustle of leaves under her feet made him freeze, wide-eyed. Startled, he dropped the pie, and it tumbled onto the grass. His face paled, and he backed away, looking terrified.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” the boy cried, his voice trembling with panic. “I was just so hungry, and the pie was so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart softened instantly. The sight of him—thin, dirty, and scared—erased any anger she had felt before.
She knelt beside him, speaking gently, her voice as comforting as she could make it. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. Where are your parents?” she asked. The boy stayed silent and shook his head. “What’s your name?” Nancy asked, understanding that the boy had nowhere to go.
“Jimmy,” he muttered, still avoiding her eyes, ashamed of what he had done.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy smiled softly, trying to reassure him, “it’s okay. You don’t have to steal pies. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
Jimmy looked up at her, his lips quivering as he tried to speak. “I didn’t mean to steal,” he said, his voice small and shaky. “I just… I don’t get to eat much, and that pie was the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Nancy’s heart ached for him, and her mind filled with thoughts of how different this boy’s life must be.
The hunger in his eyes reminded her of her own son, Henry, when he eagerly waited for that first bite of her freshly baked pie.
But Henry never had to worry about where his next meal would come from. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for a long time.
“Come with me,” Nancy said after a moment of thought. She stood up and reached out her hand to him. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust his own ears. “Really?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.
Nancy nodded, her heart filled with a strange but comforting warmth. “Yes, really. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Slowly, Jimmy reached out and took Nancy’s hand.
She led him back to her home, the boy walking beside her in silence, his eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure if this was all real. Nancy’s heart swelled with the thought of what she was about to do.
Baking had always been her way of showing love, and now, after years of baking for a son she could no longer see, she was about to bake for someone who truly needed it.
When they reached her cozy kitchen, Nancy set to work, rolling out the dough, slicing the apples, and adding just the right amount of cinnamon—just as she had done many times before.
Jimmy watched her quietly from the corner of the kitchen, his eyes wide as he followed every move she made.
The smell of the pie began to fill the room, warm and comforting, like a hug from a long-lost friend.
Once the pie was baked, Nancy placed it in front of Jimmy. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“This one’s all for you.”
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. But then he grabbed a slice and took a bite. His face lit up with joy, and his eyes sparkled as he chewed.
“This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his mouth still full. He ate with such happiness that it brought tears to Nancy’s eyes.
She watched him in silence, thinking about how something as simple as a pie could bring so much comfort to someone.
As Jimmy devoured the warm slices with obvious delight, Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry.
She had always dreamed of seeing her son eat his favorite pie again, watching him enjoy it the way he used to when he was a child.
But now, in some strange and unexpected way, she was sharing it with another boy who needed it just as much.
Watching Jimmy eat, Nancy felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be.
Maybe fate had brought Jimmy into her life for a reason. By feeding him, by offering kindness when he needed it most, she was honoring Henry’s memory in a way she had never imagined.
For the first time in years, Nancy felt that her grief had led her to something beautiful—a connection, a purpose that gave new meaning to her life.
Maybe, just maybe, this was Henry’s way of sending her a message—that love and kindness should always find their way back to those in need.
Nancy smiled as she watched Jimmy finish the last slice of pie, her heart full of warmth and gratitude.
She had found an unexpected connection in the most unlikely place, and it filled her soul in a way that nothing else had in years.
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