Rebecca coped with her depression by organizing her life so there’d be no time for it. She’d been doing that for years since the divorce. Until one persistent stranger decided to interfere with her strict, lonely routine. Little did Rebecca know, he’d become the one person she’d end up missing.
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In the dim light of her bedroom, Rebecca lay on her back, her gaze locked on the digital clock beside her bed.
The numbers read 6:29. She took a steady breath, waiting for the clock to change.
As soon as it clicked to 6:30, the alarm went off, but Rebecca was quick to silence it.
She sat up, threw the covers aside, and rose from the bed with practiced precision.
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First things first—Rebecca smoothed out her sheets, arranging every corner until the bed looked crisp and perfectly made.
She walked into the bathroom, where everything had its place.
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Her toothbrush rested neatly in a holder, the soap was placed just so in a dish, and a small mirror hung over the sink.
Rebecca took a moment to look at her own reflection, her expression calm but distant.
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She was forty-seven, with lines of experience and resilience etched onto her face.
Seven years had passed since her divorce, and though the pain had dulled, it had left behind a scar.
Her response to the heartache had been order, discipline, and strict routine. These things brought her a sense of control, something solid to hold onto when life felt chaotic.
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At exactly seven o’clock, Rebecca laced up her running shoes, plugged in her headphones, and stepped outside, ready for her morning jog.
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For years, these runs had been her escape, a time to strengthen her body while listening to audiobooks that exercised her mind.
It was her shield against sadness, each step a way to push forward.
But for the past month, something had started to disrupt her carefully designed routine—a neighbor named Charlie, who seemed determined to break through her guarded solitude, one cheerful “good morning” at a time.
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Charlie’s house was right across the street, and every morning, just as Rebecca fell into her steady pace, he would come bounding out, waving his arms like an enthusiastic kid, barely managing to keep his sneakers on.
This morning was no different. Rebecca spotted him out of the corner of her eye as he hopped down his steps, shoving his shoelaces into his sneakers in a hurry to catch up.
She sighed, rolling her eyes and speeding up, hoping he’d get the hint this time. But, as always, Charlie wouldn’t be discouraged so easily.
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“Rebecca! Wait, it’s me!” he called, his voice cheerful as he jogged over, waving with one hand and holding his side with the other.
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Rebecca pretended not to hear him and kept her eyes straight ahead, her footsteps rhythmic and focused.
But Charlie was determined, and soon he was jogging alongside her, albeit slightly out of breath.
“You’re fast… as always,” he managed between pants, giving her a crooked smile as he tried to match her pace.
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Rebecca pulled out one of her earbuds and glanced at him, feigning surprise. “Oh, hi, didn’t see you there,” she replied, with just a hint of annoyance.
She had her whole morning planned out, and chatting with her neighbor hadn’t been on the agenda.
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“No problem, totally my fault for being late,” Charlie said, his breath still coming in gasps.
Rebecca could see he was trying hard to keep up, yet he looked pleased just to be running alongside her.
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She gave a small, dismissive nod and was about to put her earbud back in when Charlie chimed in again.
“Hey, want to hear a joke?” he asked eagerly, his voice carrying that unbreakable enthusiasm she found both irritating and oddly endearing.
“You’d save more breath if you talked less while running…” she muttered, but he ignored her suggestion.
“Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?” he asked, grinning.
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Rebecca sighed. She knew better than to indulge him, but she couldn’t help herself.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Because he was outstanding in his field!” Charlie delivered the punchline with a broad, triumphant grin, his eyes bright with expectation.
Rebecca paused, rolling the joke over in her mind, and against her better judgment, a chuckle escaped her lips.
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She quickly tried to stifle it, but it was too late. Charlie had seen her reaction, and his face lit up with delight.
“See? You smiled! I’m getting better at this,” he noted with satisfaction, practically glowing at his small victory.
Rebecca shook her head, but her smile lingered, however brief.
“I’ll give it to you, that one wasn’t… too bad,” she conceded, still pretending to be unimpressed.
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Charlie threw a fist in the air, grinning as if he’d won a prize.
“Finally! Progress!” he cheered, laughing.
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Rebecca picked up her pace again, leaving Charlie struggling to keep up.
Each morning, Rebecca found herself looking forward to the sight of Charlie bounding out of his house with his untied sneakers and his cheerful grin.
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His silly jokes that once made her roll her eyes had grown on her, and she found herself smiling more often, even laughing aloud, which was something she hadn’t done in a long time.
More surprising to her, she had started to slow her pace—just a bit—so they could talk longer.
Charlie’s enthusiasm and light-heartedness had a way of softening the strict walls Rebecca had built around herself.
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He had even managed to slip past her strict routine, something she thought no one could do.
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As she laced up her shoes and looked out the window, Rebecca found herself glancing at his house, as she had started doing most mornings. Today, though, something felt different.
The door to his house was shut tight, and there was no sign of him.
She checked her watch and waited, telling herself not to worry. But after a few more minutes passed, doubt crept in.
This wasn’t like Charlie—he was always so excited to join her.
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She hesitated, feeling a strange mix of concern and disappointment, but finally, she walked over to his house and knocked on the door.
She tapped her foot as she waited, glancing around and hoping he’d just forgotten to wake up. But there was no answer.
She rang the doorbell again, then leaned close to the window, peeking inside, but the rooms were still and quiet.
“Charlie! Are you there?” she called, trying to keep her voice steady. “Come on, you’re missing our jog!”
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She hoped he’d suddenly appear, laughing and apologizing for being late. But all she heard was silence.
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Just then, an elderly voice spoke from nearby.
“Who’s shouting out here?” Startled, Rebecca turned to see Mrs. Lewis, an elderly woman who lived next door to Charlie, watching her with curiosity.
“Oh, Mrs. Lewis,” Rebecca said, feeling embarrassed for the outburst.
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“I usually run with Charlie, but he didn’t show up today. Maybe he overslept,” she added, her voice quieter, almost as if she were speaking to herself.
She felt a pang of worry, wondering if maybe he simply didn’t want to run with her anymore.
Mrs. Lewis shook her head, looking concerned.
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“Overslept? Oh no, dear. He was taken to the hospital by ambulance last night.”
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Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat.
“The hospital? What happened to him?”
Mrs. Lewis sighed, clearly upset herself.
“I’m not sure. I only saw the ambulance pull up and take him away. It’s such a shame. Poor man lives alone with no one to watch over him.”
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Rebecca stood there, processing the news, a wave of guilt and worry washing over her.
She had only known Charlie for a short while, but in that time, he had somehow become a part of her life, someone she looked forward to seeing.
Without a second thought, Rebecca thanked Mrs. Lewis, turned around, and headed back home to grab her purse and keys. There was only one hospital nearby, and she needed to find him.
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Rebecca felt her heart racing as she walked through the bustling halls of the hospital, the antiseptic smell filling her nose and making her even more anxious. She took a steadying breath as she approached the reception desk, hoping to sound calm.
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“Good morning,” she said, her voice just a bit shaky. “I’m looking for a patient who was admitted last night. His name is Charlie.”
The receptionist raised an eyebrow, looking over her glasses. “Do you have a last name, ma’am?”
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Rebecca felt herself blush. “No, sorry… I only know him as Charlie. We just… met recently,” she admitted, realizing how strange it must sound.
The receptionist gave her a slightly skeptical look. “You do know that only family or close relatives are typically allowed to visit patients, right?”
“I… I’m his girlfriend,” she blurted, surprising even herself.
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The receptionist’s eyes softened as a small smile crept onto her face. “Girlfriend, huh?” She tapped a few keys on her computer, a slight twinkle in her eyes.
“You might as well learn his last name, then. You’ll need it if he’s going to be around,” she said with a wink.
“Charlie Sanders. Room 113. I’ll take you there.”
Rebecca felt her heart flip as she whispered a quick “thank you” and followed the receptionist down the hall.
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Before they even reached the room, she could hear Charlie’s familiar laughter, his voice carrying through the doorway as he shared a joke with someone in the room.
The receptionist rapped gently on the wall to announce Rebecca’s arrival.
“Charlie, there’s a lady here to see you… she says she’s your girlfriend,” she added, a hint of playfulness in her voice as she glanced at Rebecca.
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Charlie’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Yes, yes! Rebecca, come on in. Of course, she’s here for me,” he said with a grin, gesturing for her to come closer.
Rebecca felt a rush of relief as she walked over to sit beside him.
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Charlie looked tired but cheerful, as if the hospital gown and the IV were just minor inconveniences in his day.
She glanced at him, both relieved and exasperated. “Girlfriend, huh?” Charlie teased, raising his eyebrows playfully.
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Rebecca gave him a mock-scowl. “I had to say something to get in here, didn’t I? And you missed our jog this morning! What happened?” she asked, a touch of concern creeping into her voice.
Charlie sighed, shifting slightly in the bed.
“Well… it’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but those jogs? Not exactly great for my health.”
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Rebecca’s face fell. “What do you mean?”
He glanced down, looking a little sheepish.
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“I have a heart condition. Doctor’s orders are to avoid anything too intense… like trying to keep up with you,” he admitted with a wry smile.
Her heart sank, and she shook her head in disbelief.
“Charlie, why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t have been running at all!”
Charlie gave a small, lopsided smile.
“Well… if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have seen you. I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.”
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Rebecca felt her face soften, a mix of surprise and affection warming her heart.
“So you were willing to risk your health just to talk to me?” she asked quietly, looking him in the eye.
He nodded, his expression turning serious.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“I’ve watched you every morning, jogging at the same time, like clockwork. I’ve seen you give things to charity, help the neighbors. You’re… you’re someone special, Rebecca.”
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Rebecca felt a lump form in her throat, his words striking her in a way she hadn’t expected.
She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently.
“Charlie,” she said, her voice soft, “you don’t need to run to spend time with me. How about dinner at my place instead?”
Charlie’s face broke into a warm smile.
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“Now that sounds a lot safer for my heart,” he replied, his eyes shining. “I think the doctor would definitely approve.”
Rebecca chuckled, feeling the tension in her chest ease as they shared a smile.
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“I hope so,” she murmured, looking forward to an evening that didn’t involve heart-stopping runs but instead a quiet meal with someone who, in a short time, had become surprisingly important to her.
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Tras la muerte de su esposa, viudo descubre que llevaban más de 20 años divorciados – Historia del día
La esposa de Sergio, Clara, murió inesperadamente y nunca dejó un testamento. Cuando el viudo empezó a organizar su herencia, su abogado descubrió que llevaban más de 20 años divorciados por la razón más extraña. Entonces apareció el heredero de Clara.
Clara y Sergio se casaron a finales de los 80 y decidieron criar a sus hijos en Barcelona. Pero solo tuvieron una hija, Jazmín. Por desgracia, en el año 2000, ella se mezcló con la gente equivocada.
Cuando Jazmín cumplió 18 años abandonó la casa y no tuvo más contacto con sus padres. Su novio, Pedro, fue una horrible influencia para ella y le llenó la cabeza con mentiras sobre ellos.
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Hacía más de diez años que no veían a Jazmín, pero aún mantenían la esperanza de que volviera algún día. Pero Clara tuvo un inesperado ataque al corazón y los médicos no pudieron hacer nada. Murió y Sergio tenía el corazón destrozado.
Ni siquiera sabía si Jazmín se enteraría de la muerte de su madre. Pero tenía que poner en orden los asuntos de Clara. Ella no había dejado un testamento ni nada porque todavía eran muy jóvenes. No esperaba perderla tan pronto.
Después del funeral, Sergio se reunió con su abogado, Daniel Contreras. “Sr. Rodríguez, mis condolencias. Odio reunirme en estas circunstancias, pero es importante arreglar todo”, dijo Contreras.
“Sí, Sr. Contreras. También quiero preparar mis asuntos, por si acaso. Nunca se sabe lo que puede pasar”, respondió Sergio.
“Así es. Pero hay algo que tengo que decirle. Mi secretaria organizó todos los documentos pertinentes relativos a la señora Rodríguez después de su llamada, y hay un pequeño problema”, comenzó el señor Contreras.
“¿Qué pasa?”, se preguntó Sergio, confundido.
“Bueno… según la documentación, usted y la señora Rodríguez se divorciaron a principios de la década de 2000”, explicó el abogado.
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“¿Qué? Eso es imposible. No pasamos ni una noche separados desde que nos casamos. Debe haber un error”, señaló Sergio.
“Estamos intentando averiguar qué ha pasado. Pero esa es la situación que tenemos ahora. Como están divorciados, su familiar más cercano heredará su patrimonio”, explicó el señor Contreras.
“Esa sería Jazmín, supongo. Pero no entiendo cómo es posible. ¿Pudo divorciarse sin mi consentimiento? Y si lo hizo, ¿por qué siguió viviendo conmigo?”, preguntó Sergio.
“A menos que ella llevara un diario, no tengo forma de responder a sus preguntas. Pero no sería posible divorciarse sin su firma. Sin embargo, no se preocupe. Estamos investigando a fondo este asunto. De momento, tengo que ponerme en contacto con su hija”, explicó el abogado.
“Estamos distanciados. Hace muchos años que no la veo ni sé nada de ella. Supongo que Jazmín recibiría los ahorros de Clara, ¿no?”, reflexionó Sergio.
“También se queda con su casa, señor Rodríguez. Está a nombre de su esposa. Tal vez pueda llegar a un acuerdo con ella. Eso es todo por ahora. Me pondré en contacto con usted si hay alguna novedad”, terminó el señor Contreras. Sergio salió de la reunión boquiabierta.
No podía creer que Clara se hubiera divorciado de él. Tiene que ser un error, pensó al salir del despacho de su abogado. Unos días después, Sergio oyó varios golpes fuertes en su puerta. Era su hija.
“¡Jazmín! ¡Querida! Me alegro tanto de verte!”, expresó Sergio y empezó a llorar. Pero la cara de Jazmín no mostraba emoción.
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“El abogado dijo que el dinero de mamá es mío, y también esta casa, ¿verdad?”, dijo Jazmín al entrar en el salón.
“Uf… supongo, pero hay un error, así que están revisando las cosas”, murmuró. Pero su hija se paseó por la zona, mirando a su alrededor.
“Bueno, como sea. Voy a necesitar que te vayas lo antes posible cuando esto se aclare. Lo siento, pero yo quiero vivir aquí ahora”, dijo ella.
“Jazmín, esta es mi casa. No tengo otro sitio al que ir. ¿No podemos hablar de esto?”, suplicó Sergio.
“Lo siento, no. No quiero hacer eso. Te corté por una razón. No apoyaste mi relación y no quiero tener nada que ver contigo”, continuó.
“¿Sigues con ese vagabundo?”, preguntó Sergio enfadado.
“No, pero mi punto de vista sigue en pie. Las cosas habrían sido mucho más fáciles si lo hubieras aceptado. Pero no…”, se burló Jazmín.
“¡Jazmín, tu madre acaba de morir! ¿Y eso no te importa?”, gruñó Sergio. Ella lo miró con una expresión inexpresiva, como si realmente no importara, y se encogió de hombros.
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“Bueno, la herencia no se ha resuelto, así que sal de mi casa ahora mismo. Estoy muy decepcionada contigo. Eres una mujer adulta y ni siquiera puedes mostrar un poco de compasión”, acusó Sergio.
Jazmín se burló. “Bien, me iré. Pero esta casa es mía, y cuando todo se arregle, ¡te irás de aquí para siempre!”, gritó y se fue.
Sergio se sentó y se frotó la frente. ¿En qué nos hemos equivocado, Clara?, se preguntó al cielo.
El señor Contreras llamó dos semanas después. “Sr. Rodríguez, hemos descubierto lo que pasó. En 2001, una mujer con el nombre exacto de su esposa, Clara Rodríguez, solicitó el divorcio. Pero su marido la maltrataba y no quiso firmarla”, reveló el abogado.
“Oh, vaya”, susurró Sergio por teléfono.
“Sí. Así que su abogado consiguió que los tribunales concedieran el divorcio sin su firma. Al parecer, hubo una gran confusión en la oficina y se divorciaron por accidente. ¡Esto es una locura! No he visto este tipo de situación en toda mi carrera!”, exclamó el abogado.
“¿Pero se puede revertir?”, preguntó Sergio, aliviado de que su mujer no se hubiera divorciado en secreto.
“Sí, tenemos que mostrar todo a un juez y ellos aclararán las cosas. Pero me siento mal por esa mujer que sigue casada con ese hombre”, afirmó Contreras.
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Poco después acudieron al juzgado y Sergio recibió la herencia de Clara como su marido. Jazmín asistió a la audiencia y estaba furiosa con la decisión del juez. Tomó sus maletas y salió de la sala.
Pero Sergio corrió tras ella. “¡Jazmín, espera! Por favor. Espera”, le gritó hasta que se detuvo en el pasillo.
“¿Qué quieres? Tú lo consigues todo y yo nada, como querías”, le espetó Jazmín.
“Eso no es lo que quería. Estaba dispuesto a darte la casa. Ya lo he arreglado todo para que lo heredes todo cuando yo no esté. Pero lo que quiero es recuperar a mi hija. Por favor, dame una oportunidad para reconstruir nuestra relación”, le rogó Sergio.
Justo en ese momento, Jazmín finalmente mostró emoción y sus ojos se aguaron. “Yo… no sé si puedo hacerlo. Ha pasado tanto tiempo”, comenzó.
“Por favor, visitemos juntos la tumba de tu madre. Olvidemos y perdonémonos por todo. Somos toda la familia que nos queda en el mundo. No quiero volver a perderte, cariño”, gritó Sergio.
Jazmín se derrumbó y corrió a los brazos de Sergio. Se abrazaron con fuerza durante muchos minutos. Después, se fueron juntos a casa. Jazmín le explicó lo horrible que había sido su vida desde que se fue hace años.
“Debería haberte escuchado. Pero fui tan estúpida. Es como si mi ex me hubiera llenado la cabeza con tantas mentiras. Pero luego, cuando me deshice de él, no me atreví a enfrentarme a ti… a pedirte perdón. Tenía tanto miedo”, explicó Jazmín entre lágrimas.
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“Lo siento mucho. Deberíamos haber escuchado mejor. Tal vez podríamos haber hecho más por ti. Pero ahora, tenemos que mirar hacia adelante. Estás aquí, y estamos empezando de nuevo. Te perdono. ¿Me perdonas por no haber luchado más?”, recalcó Sergio.
“Yo también te perdono, papá. Vamos a empezar de nuevo”, le dijo Jazmín.
Clara, hemos recuperado a nuestro bebé, pensó mientras volvía a abrazar a su hija.
¿Qué podemos aprender de esta historia?
- Perdonar a los demás por los errores del pasado: Nunca se sabe lo que puede pasar y lo corta que puede ser la vida.
- Poner en orden tus asuntos: Clara murió inesperadamente sin testamento, y eso creó un gran problema para sus familiares vivos. Es mejor tener todo preparado incluso cuando se es joven.
Comparte esta historia con tus amigos. Puede que les alegre el día y les inspire.
Este relato está inspirado en la vida cotidiana de nuestros lectores y ha sido escrito por un redactor profesional. Cualquier parecido con nombres o ubicaciones reales es pura coincidencia. Todas las imágenes mostradas son exclusivamente de carácter ilustrativo. Comparte tu historia con nosotros, podría cambiar la vida de alguien.
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