My wife had been marking tally counts on her hands — when I discovered what she was tracking, I turned pale

When I noticed my wife drawing strange tally marks on her hand, I shrugged it off as a quirky habit. But as those marks multiplied and her answers remained cryptic, I realized something much darker was lurking beneath the surface of our seemingly happy marriage.

“Married life is great, right?” I would say to my friends when they asked. And for the most part, it was. We’d only been married for a few months, and I was still getting used to being a husband. My wife, Sarah, was always so organized, so thoughtful. She had a way of making everything seem effortless.

But then, something changed. I started noticing a strange habit of hers. One day, she pulled a pen out of her purse and made a small tally mark on the back of her hand. I didn’t think much of it at first.

“Did you just mark your hand?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She smiled and shrugged. “Just a reminder.”

“A reminder for what?” I laughed, thinking it was a joke. But she didn’t answer. She just changed the subject.

Over the next few weeks, she did it more and more. Some days, there’d be only one or two marks. Other days, five or more. Then there’d be days with nothing at all. It seemed random, but it bothered me. What was she keeping track of?

The more I noticed, the more I started to worry. It was like she was keeping a secret from me, and that secret was slowly eating away at our happiness.

One night, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Sarah, what’s with the tally marks?” I asked as we were getting ready for bed. “You do it all the time now.”

She glanced at the marks on her hand, then looked at me with that same mysterious smile. “It helps me remember things, that’s all.”

“Remember what?” I pressed.

“It’s just… things,” she said, brushing me off like it was nothing. “Don’t worry about it.”

But I did worry. A lot. I started paying closer attention. She’d mark her hand after dinner. After we argued. After we watched a movie. There was no pattern I could see.

One evening, I counted the marks on her hand: seven. That night, I watched as she transferred them into a small notebook by her bedside table. She didn’t know I was watching.

I decided to check her notebook the next morning. I waited until she was in the shower, then flipped through the pages. Each page had rows and rows of tally marks. I counted them—68 in total.

I sat on the bed, staring at the notebook in my hands. What did this number mean? What was she counting?

I tried asking her again a few days later.

“Sarah, please tell me what those marks are for. It’s driving me crazy.”

She sighed, clearly annoyed. “I told you. It’s just something I do. It helps me remember.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” I snapped. “What are you remembering? Are you keeping track of something? Someone?”

“Just drop it, okay?” she said, her voice sharp. She looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Please, just let it go.”

But I couldn’t let it go. The marks started to feel like a wall between us. Every time I saw her make a new one, it was like she was putting up another brick, shutting me out.

I became obsessed with the number 68. What was so important about it? I noticed I was being more careful around her, almost like I was afraid to give her a reason to add another mark. But then the marks would still appear, no matter what I did.

One night, after another tense conversation, I watched her add four new marks to her hand. I needed to know what was happening. I needed to figure this out before it drove me mad. But I had no idea how to get the truth out of her. And that scared me more than anything.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that our entire marriage was on the line, and I was helpless to stop whatever was happening between us. I left for several days to see if it changed anything. Well, the tally count has increased to 78 by the time I returned.

The obsession with Sarah’s tally marks was eating me alive. I needed a break from it, but everywhere I looked, I saw her hand with those little black lines, like they were taunting me. So, when Sarah suggested we visit her mother, I thought it would be a good distraction.

Her mother, Diane, and her fifth husband, Jake, lived in a cozy house in the suburbs. It was a typical Saturday afternoon visit: tea, cookies, and small talk. Sarah and her mom were in the kitchen, chatting and laughing. I excused myself to use the bathroom.

As I passed by the guest bedroom, something caught my eye. There, on the nightstand, was a notebook. It looked just like the one Sarah kept by her bed. I hesitated, but curiosity got the better of me. I stepped inside, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching.

I opened the notebook, my hands trembling. Inside, there were pages filled with tally marks, just like Sarah’s. But there was more. Next to the marks were labels: “interrupting,” “raising voice,” “forgetting to call.” Each tally had a label, like it was keeping track of mistakes.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered under my breath.

I felt a chill run down my spine. Was this some kind of family tradition? Was Sarah’s mom counting her own mistakes? Were they both holding themselves to these impossible standards?

I closed the notebook and returned to the living room, trying to act normal, but my mind was spinning. Sarah noticed my unease.

“You okay?” she asked, concern in her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. “Just thinking about work.”

We stayed for another hour, but I was barely present. My thoughts kept drifting back to that.

On the drive home, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Sarah, I need to ask you something,” I said, gripping the steering wheel.

She looked at me, puzzled. “What’s up?”

“I saw your mom’s notebook today. It looked a lot like yours. Is this something you both do? Are you counting your mistakes? You don’t have to be perfect, you know. You don’t need to keep track of every little thing.”

There was a moment of silence, then she let out a bitter laugh.

“You think I’m counting my mistakes?”

“Well, yeah,” I said, relieved she was finally opening up. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. It’s okay to mess up sometimes.”

She shook her head, staring out the window. “I’m not counting my mistakes, Jack. I’m counting yours.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut. “What?”

“Every time you break one of your vows, I make a mark,” she said quietly. “When you interrupt me, when you don’t listen, when you say you’ll do something and don’t. I’ve been keeping track since our wedding.”

On our wedding day, I promised Sarah the world in my vows. I vowed never to lie, to always listen without interrupting, and to be there every time she needed me, no matter what. It was a long list of grand, heartfelt promises that sounded perfect in the moment, but looking back, they were almost impossible to keep.

I felt the blood drain from my face. “You’re counting my mistakes? Why?”

“Because I want to know when I’ve had enough,” she said, her voice breaking. “When you reach 1,000 marks, I’m leaving.”

I pulled the car over, my heart pounding. “You’re going to leave me? For breaking some stupid promises?”

“They’re not stupid promises,” she snapped. “They’re our wedding vows, Jack. You made them to me, and you’ve broken every single one.”

I stared at her, stunned. How had we gotten here? How had I missed this? I’d thought she was being hard on herself, but I was the one who’d been careless, dismissive. I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t. I was too shocked, too hurt.

When we got home, I couldn’t sleep. I called Diane, desperate for answers.

“Sarah told me what she’s doing,” I said. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

Diane sighed. “I did the same thing with my past husbands. I thought it would help, but it just drove us apart. It ruined my marriages.”

“Then why let her—”

“I tried to tell her,” she interrupted gently. “But she needs to see it for herself. I count good days now, Jack. Good things my husband does. It changed everything.”

I hung up, feeling more lost than ever. I could only hope that my mother-in-law’s words fell on fertile ground.

That evening, Sarah came home with tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around me. “I didn’t realize how much this was hurting us.”

I held her close, feeling a mix of relief and hope. “Let’s forget the tally marks,” I said softly. “Let’s start fresh.”

The next day, I bought a new notebook—one for us to fill with good memories and happy moments. We made our first entry that night, writing about a quiet dinner we shared, laughing and talking like we hadn’t in months.

As we moved forward, the notebook became a symbol of our promise to focus on the positives and grow together. The tally marks were gone, replaced by stories of joy, love, and gratitude. We were finally on the same page, and it felt like the beginning of something beautiful.

Childless Woman Returns from a Business Trip a Day Early and Finds a Baby in Her House – Story of the Day

When Alicia returned home from a business trip, she discovered a baby next to her husband on their bed. His explanation made no sense, but she was tired. However, the shocking truth made sense a few hours later when she woke up.

After an extended business trip to New York, Alicia was finally home in Miami and was looking forward to resting on her bed with her husband, Luke. She carefully walked around the house, taking off her jacket and trying not to make a sound. It was late at night, and Luke had no idea she was back.

She was supposed to return in three days, but Alicia managed to finish her work early and decided to catch a flight back as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that meant reaching Miami after midnight and getting home way too late. But that was fine. Luke would be surprised when he woke up next to his wife in the morning.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

They talked all the time while she was gone, but a month was way too much time for a business trip. Never again, Alicia thought when she finally reached their bedroom.

Luckily, she didn’t have to turn on the lights because the moon reflected enough light to see around. She saw her husband’s figure on the bed and heard his light snoring but moved quickly around the room, changing into her PJs.

But she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a tiny bundle on her side of the bed. There was a pillow at the edge so the baby wouldn’t roll and fall to the other side. But Alicia and Luke didn’t have kids. What’s going on here? Where did he get that baby?

Luke didn’t have any family as he grew up in an orphanage, so the child couldn’t be a niece or nephew. So what was happening here? she wondered in shock.

She went to the other side of the bed and shook her husband. “Luke! Luke! Wake up!” she tried to keep a whispering tone, but she was way too startled for anything. Fortunately, the baby didn’t hear, but her husband felt her hand on his arm.

“What? Who…. Alicia? What are you doing here?” he said groggily, his hand raising to his face and wiping sleep from his eyes.

“Meet me in the kitchen right now!” she stage-whispered and walked away.

Luke followed slowly and looked at his wife sleepily. “You’re here early.”

“Yes, whatever. Who is that baby, Luke? What’s going on here?” she questioned angrily.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“I’m not sure, Alicia. Someone left him on our doorstep a few days ago, and I’ve been taking care of him,” Luke said and yawned heavily.

“What? That doesn’t make sense! Let’s call the police!”

“Yes, we have to do that, but I keep forgetting while taking care of him. Listen, I’m way too tired to have this conversation. And you’re probably tired from traveling too. Let’s go to bed and figure out what to do in the morning, okay?”

“No, we have to figure it out right now!” Alicia exclaimed in exasperation.

“Shush, please. It’s too late. You’ll wake the baby. Please, let’s go to sleep,” Luke insisted and walked back to the bedroom, not waiting for Alicia’s response.

“Fine,” she whispered and followed. She laid down on the other side of the baby, and it was okay because their bed was huge. Shockingly, Alicia fell asleep quickly and didn’t dream that night.

Seven a.m. that day…

Alicia woke up to a couple of muffled voices coming from the living room. She turned on the bed and saw that Luke and the baby were gone, so she rushed up and sauntered out of the room, trying not to alert anyone.

“Luke, when are you going to tell her? This can’t go on like this!” a woman’s voice said in annoyance.

“Please, keep it down. I don’t know how to tell her, okay?” Luke said in a lower tone, hoping that Alicia wouldn’t wake.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

But she was wide awake now. Who is that? Is this about the baby? Is she his secret baby mama? Alicia worried and wondered if she should show herself and confront them.

“Please, let’s give it some time. I’ll tell her when the DNA results come out,” Luke pleaded, and Alicia’s jaw dropped.

DNA test? He got someone pregnant, and now they were testing to see the parentage? I can’t let this go on, she decided. Alicia stepped directly into the living room and saw Luke talking to a woman who was just outside the front door.

“What’s going on here? I want the truth right now, Luke. I heard everything. What DNA test? Is that your baby mama?” she demanded, crossing her arms on her chest. Luke and the woman turned around with wide eyes.

But shockingly, the stranger smiled. “Baby mama?” she said and laughed.

“There’s nothing funny about this. Luke, did you cheat on me with this woman?!” Alicia almost shouted.

“No! No! I swear! I would never do that. Please, listen to me,” Luke begged, walking towards her with his hand in front.

“You have ten seconds!” Alicia seethed, her arms still crossed in anger.

“This is my sister, Linda.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Alicia’s arms dropped. “What?”

“Linda and I met two weeks ago by chance. Look, baby. She looks just like me. We met at the supermarket and were shocked by our resemblance to one another. We started talking and realized we were both orphans. Now we’re waiting for the results of a DNA test to confirm it. But we’re pretty sure because our childhood experiences were similar. I believe I remember playing with her at the orphanage, but it’s a blurry memory,” Luke explained the shocking story.

“That’s crazy,” Alicia whispered, looking at the woman. But Luke was right. The woman looked awfully like him. If identical twins of different genders were possible, they would be the perfect example.

Luke continued. “We’ve gotten pretty close since then, and she had an emergency last night. She asked me to watch her baby, Tony. I was too tired to explain earlier, but there it is.”

Alicia calmed down and invited Linda inside to hear the woman’s side of the story. It was pretty remarkable. Luke also begged forgiveness for not telling her sooner, but he didn’t want to ruin her important business trip with this complicated news.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Anyway, the results are supposed to come out in a few days, and then, we’ll see. You can see them along with my husband and corroborate that we’re not lying. But I really hope it’s true because not having any extended family is the worst,” Linda commented after they talked for a while.

Alicia was glad to hear that Linda had a husband. It made the story much more plausible, and she forgave Luke for the lie pretty quickly because Tony was super cute.

A few days later, the results confirmed they were siblings, and they decided to spend more time together. Alicia was glad that Luke had a nephew to dote on, and she always thought that family mattered more than anything in the world.

What can we learn from this story?

  • Don’t lie to your spouse. Things could’ve gone south for Luke if Alicia didn’t patiently wait for an explanation. So it’s best not to lie to your partner.
  • Family is the most crucial part of life. Cherish your family members because tons of people wish they had them.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a girl who asked her parents to adopt a kid she found on the bus.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story

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