A Surprise Visit to My Long Distance Boyfriend Turned into a Disaster— Story of the Day

After my husband of eighteen years left me, I struggled to find love again at forty-one. Desperate, I joined a dating site and met a charming man named Juan. I took a leap of faith and traveled to Mexico to surprise him, but it turned out to be the worst decision.

My name is Lily, and I am 41 years old. Recently, my husband left me after 18 years of marriage, and I had no idea how to proceed. I married early in my life, so I didn’t have much experience meeting new people.

I couldn’t make new friends, and finding love in your forties is hard. So, I shut myself off and rarely left the house.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

In desperation, I registered on a dating site and started chatting with a handsome man from Mexico named Juan. He was so confident and gallant I couldn’t believe it was real. Very soon, our online flirtation was turning into something more.

Things developed quickly, and he began inviting me to visit him in Mexico. At first, I hesitated. What if he wasn’t who he seemed to be? What if I was just setting myself up for more heartbreak?

For illustration purposes only. | Source: fakedetail.com

For illustration purposes only. | Source: fakedetail.com

But the thought of spending my days in the lonely routine I had fallen into pushed me to take a chance. I finally decided to surprise him by arriving unannounced.

I gathered my things for a few weeks’ trip, bought plane tickets, and was ready to go. I was really nervous. I wasn’t sure he would be the same as he was online, but I needed this. It felt like my last chance to be happy.

As I boarded the plane, my heart raced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The flight seemed to take forever, and I could only think about Juan.

Would he be as charming in person? Would he be happy to see me? I tried to calm my racing thoughts, reminding myself that this was a step toward a new beginning.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

It was difficult for me to reach Juan because it turned out he lived in a small town far from the airport. The journey was long and tiring. After landing, I had to find a taxi to take me to his town.

“Where!? Where!?” The taxi driver kept screaming at me because he couldn’t understand what I was saying. I could feel my frustration rising, so I quickly pulled out my phone and showed him the address.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“See? Right here, I need you to take me to this town. How much?”

“Good, good, let’s go!” he answered, finally understanding.

Traveling had always been a challenge for me. I always seemed to find the worst ways to communicate with people, and my luck was notoriously bad. But this time, I felt like everything was going to turn out well, which gave me the courage to keep going.

The drive felt endless, winding through narrow, unfamiliar roads. I watched the scenery change from the bustling city to quieter, rural landscapes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

The further we drove, the more anxious I became. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was making a huge mistake. But I pushed those thoughts aside, reminding myself that I was here to take a chance on happiness.

Finally, the taxi pulled up to a small apartment building. I paid the driver and stepped out, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. As I approached the building, I saw Juan just entering his apartment.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Juan! Surprise!” I called out, running towards him. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

He looked very surprised, and for a moment, I thought he was upset to see me. But then he suddenly smiled, and my heart calmed down.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Oh, it’s you! I wasn’t expecting you! Why didn’t you text me about your visit?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you would be happy to see me, Juan. You look so much better in person!” I said, trying to keep the mood light.

“Yeah! You too… Lucy…” he said, hesitating slightly.

“Lily…” I corrected him, feeling a pang of disappointment. He didn’t even remember my name. Maybe that was the first red flag I should have noticed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Lily! Yeah, that’s what I meant. I’m sorry, sometimes American names are a bit confusing to me.”

Maybe he was right, I thought. I shouldn’t be so negative. He was so handsome, and his accent made me want to listen to him more and more.

He invited me into his apartment, and we sat down to talk. The conversation flowed easily; before I knew it, we laughed and shared stories as if we had known each other for years.

As the evening went on, we opened a bottle of wine. I felt my nerves melting away with each sip. Juan was charming and attentive, and I enjoyed his company more than I had expected.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“So, what made you decide to come all the way here?” Juan asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“I just needed a change,” I admitted. “After my husband left, I felt so lost. Talking to you made me feel hopeful again.”

“I’m glad you came,” he said, his smile warm and reassuring. “It’s nice to meet you in person finally.”

We continued talking late into the night, the wine loosening our tongues and deepening our connection. Eventually, exhaustion caught up with me, and I could barely keep my eyes open.

“I think I need to get some sleep,” I said, stifling a yawn.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Of course, you must be tired from your trip,” Juan said, guiding me to a spare room. “Sleep well, Lily.”

“Goodnight, Juan,” I said, smiling as I drifted off, feeling content and hopeful for the first time in a long while.

But the next morning would bring a harsh reality I wasn’t prepared for. I woke up on the street, disoriented and confused. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft light over the unfamiliar surroundings.

My head throbbed, and I quickly realized that my phone and money were gone. I was left in my dirty clothes, feeling completely helpless.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Panic set in as I looked around. People were starting their day, but no one seemed to notice me. I tried to speak to passersby, but my voice came out shaky and desperate.

“Please help! Anybody!? Call the police!” I shouted, hoping someone would understand.

But nobody did. They all glanced at me briefly before hurrying on their way, looking at me like I was homeless or worse.

The language barrier was like a wall between me and any potential help. I felt a wave of hopelessness wash over me, and tears began to well up in my eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, a tall man approached me. He had a kind face and wore an apron, suggesting he worked at a nearby restaurant. He spoke to me in Spanish, and his words were rapid and hard to follow. I shook my head, trying to convey that I didn’t understand.

He seemed to realize the problem and switched to broken English. “You… need help?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Yes, please,” I replied, my voice trembling. “I don’t have my phone or money. I don’t know what to do.”

He nodded, his expression sympathetic. “Come… with me,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him. “I… Miguel.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Lily,” I said, trying to manage a weak smile. I followed Miguel to a small, cozy restaurant just down the street. The aroma of freshly baked bread and coffee filled the air, momentarily distracting me from my fear.

Miguel led me to a back room, where he handed me some clothes – a simple dress and a pair of shoes. “You… change,” he said, pointing to a small restroom.

I nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Miguel.”

I changed into clean clothes inside the restroom, feeling a little more human. I splashed some water on my face and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Despite the situation, I felt a flicker of hope. Miguel’s kindness was like a lifeline.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

When I came out, Miguel had prepared a plate of food for me. Eggs, toast, and a cup of hot coffee. He pointed to the chair, indicating I should sit and eat. “Eat… you need strength,” he said.

I sat down and started to eat, the food filling the emptiness in my stomach. “Thank you,” I said again, my eyes welling up with gratitude.

Miguel smiled and nodded. “You… use phone after.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

As I finished eating, I couldn’t help but reflect on the events that had brought me here. Juan had seemed so perfect, but now it was clear he wasn’t who he pretended to be.

The realization was painful, but Miguel’s unexpected kindness reminded me that there were still good people in the world.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

When I looked out into the hall to see how Miguel worked, I was stunned to see Juan in the distance. He was with a new woman, laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened.

My heart pounded in my chest, and anger surged through me. How could he just move on so easily after what he had done to me?

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I rushed back to Miguel, trying to explain what had happened. “Miguel, that man, Juan! He’s the one who robbed me! We need to call the police!” I said, my words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

Miguel looked confused, not fully understanding my English. I took a deep breath and tried again, speaking slowly and gesturing towards Juan.

“He stole my money and phone.”

Miguel’s face showed he still didn’t quite understand, but he nodded and looked concerned. I realized I needed to be clearer.

I grabbed a napkin and quickly drew a crude picture of a phone and a dollar sign, then crossed them out. “Juan took these from me,” I said, pointing to the drawing, then to Juan.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Miguel’s face showed he still didn’t quite understand, but he nodded and looked concerned. I realized I needed to be clearer.

I grabbed a napkin and quickly drew a crude picture of a phone and a dollar sign, then crossed them out. “Juan took these from me,” I said, pointing to the drawing, then to Juan.

Miguel’s eyes widened in realization. He looked at Juan, then back at me. “Police?” he asked, mimicking holding a phone.

“Yes, but wait,” I said, an idea forming in my mind. “Can I borrow a waitress’s uniform?”

Miguel looked puzzled but nodded. He quickly fetched a uniform and handed it to me. I rushed to the restroom to change, my heart racing with both fear and determination.

Once I was dressed, I took a deep breath and adjusted the uniform. I needed to get that phone back.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I walked out into the hall, trying to blend in with the other staff. My eyes were locked on Juan and the new woman he was with. They were engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to my presence. I approached their table, my hands shaking slightly.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said, using the most professional tone I could muster. “You dropped this earlier.” I handed Juan a napkin, hoping he would be distracted enough not to recognize me right away.

Juan looked up, mildly surprised. As he took the napkin, I quickly reached for his phone lying on the table. I grabbed it and hurried back to Miguel, my heart pounding in my chest.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Miguel looked confused as I thrust the phone into his hands. “Look at the messages,” I said, opening the chat between Juan and me.

“And there are dozens of other women, too.”

Miguel scrolled through the messages, his eyes widening in shock. He looked at me, then back at Juan, who was still laughing with the woman.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Miguel’s expression hardened with understanding and anger. He nodded and pulled out his phone to call the police.

Minutes later, the police arrived. They spoke with Miguel, who gestured towards Juan. The officers approached Juan’s table, and I watched as they questioned him. Juan’s face went from confident to confused to panicked in a matter of seconds. The police escorted him out of the restaurant, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Miguel turned to me with a look of concern and kindness. “You… okay?” he asked.

I nodded, tears of relief and gratitude filling my eyes. “Thank you, Miguel. You believed me and helped me. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Miguel smiled gently. “Good people help each other. You find a new start now.”

I realized that in this crazy journey, I had found someone who truly cared. Miguel’s kindness and support gave me the strength to face a difficult situation and become stronger. As I stood there, I felt a sense of hope for the future. I wasn’t alone anymore, and that made all the difference.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Sam is a nurse whose only dream is to become a doctor. During her night shift, she meets a lonely little girl. Sam is shocked to find out that the girl will never be able to finish her list of dreams because of her illness. She decides to complete the girl’s tasks to make her feel better. 

My Son Lifted Saleswoman’s Skirt Screaming: ‘Mommy, Look! That’s Why She’s Angry’

When Madeline and Ryan decide to go shopping for a new vacuum cleaner, their four-year-old son reveals that he knows the saleswoman—a woman that he had seen in his father’s office, the tattoo on her leg a dead giveaway.

It was an ordinary Saturday morning—the kind that held a promise of simple pleasures and family time.

“Madeline,” my husband said as he poured himself some coffee, “we’ll leave after breakfast, okay?”

Coffee being poured into a cup | Source: Pexels

Coffee being poured into a cup | Source: Pexels

I nodded as I cracked eggs into a bowl, ready to make breakfast for Ryan, my husband, and Sam, our four-year-old son.

It wasn’t anything special—we were just going to go out and get fruit for the week, and replace our broken vacuum cleaner. But what I didn’t know was that beneath the surface of this ordinary outing, a story was brewing, one that would shatter my reality of life as I knew it.

A couple with a young boy | Source: Pexels

A couple with a young boy | Source: Pexels

“What’s for breakfast, Mom?” Sam asked, bouncing into the kitchen.

Later, when we were finally out of the house, I realized how grateful I was for the little life that we were living together as a family of three. I had always wanted a small family and a soft life—little outings, getting fresh fruit and vegetables from a farmer’s market, and so on.

An omelet on a plate | Source: Unsplash

An omelet on a plate | Source: Unsplash

I always thought that by marrying Ryan, I had gotten just that.

As we entered the store, Ryan veered off to examine some electronics, leaving Sam and me in the vacuum aisle. Ben held tightly onto my dress. He was always nervous when we ventured out.

A little boy with his parents and a balloon | Source: Pexels

A little boy with his parents and a balloon | Source: Pexels

I approached a saleswoman to inquire about a high-end vacuum I had spotted online.

“Don’t worry about the prices,” Ryan had said the night before when I sat at the dining room table with my laptop, looking through the latest brands and models of vacuums.

A person touching a vacuum cleaner | Source: Pexels

A person touching a vacuum cleaner | Source: Pexels

“Really?” I asked him. My husband wasn’t one to hold onto his pockets tightly, but recently he had become more liberal with spending in general.

“Yes,” he said, kissing my forehead before heading to read Sam a bedtime story. “Choose whatever you want.”

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

At the store, however, the saleswoman looked me up and down.

“This vacuum?” she asked, pointing to the one I was inquiring about.

“Yes,” I replied. “And does it come in any other colors?”

A woman wearing a pink shirt | Source: Pexels

A woman wearing a pink shirt | Source: Pexels

“It’s extremely expensive, you don’t look like you can afford it,” she sneered, looking me up and down with disdain again. She eyed my son, too. It was like she had seen him before, but couldn’t quite place him.

Her words stung, but before I could even muster a reply, Sam let go of my dress and darted to the woman.

A close-up of a little boy | Source: Pexels

A close-up of a little boy | Source: Pexels

Then he did something very out of character. Sam reached out to touch the saleswoman’s skirt, and slowly lifted it to a point just above her knee. There on her thigh was a large, distinctive tattoo.

“Look, Mom, look!” Sam exclaimed, pointing excitedly.

A woman revealing her tattoos | Source: Unsplash

A woman revealing her tattoos | Source: Unsplash

The saleswoman’s face turned a fierce shade of red as she scrambled to cover herself.

“How dare you!” she yelled, her voice filled with indignation.

Panicking, I grabbed my son, pulling him back.

A shocked woman with her hands up | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman with her hands up | Source: Pexels

“I’m so sorry,” I stammered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’m sure he was just joking!”

But Sam was insistent, his little face screwed up in confusion.

“No, Mommy!” he said. “I’m not joking, Mommy! Look at that tattoo! I know it!”

My son looked like he was on the verge of tears.

A sad little boy | Source: Unsplash

A sad little boy | Source: Unsplash

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” I asked him.

My voice trembled, dreading the answer that I somehow already knew.

For a few weeks now, I had had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I just felt that something was off with Ryan. We barely spent time together. Usually, when we put Sam to bed, it was our time. Just for us to sit together and catch up.

A couple sitting together on a couch | Source: Pexels

A couple sitting together on a couch | Source: Pexels

But recently, we haven’t done any of that. Instead, Ryan would jump at the opportunity to put Sam to bed—something that involved at least an hour of playtime and a few bedtime stories later.

So, I would end up doing laundry and dishes, and then just go to bed.

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels

And Ryan’s new thing was that he was obsessed with getting a tattoo.

“I just think that I’m old enough to settle on something,” he said when I dug into a bar of chocolate.

“What are you planning on getting?” I asked him, suddenly confused by the new interest in tattoos.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I have options.”

A person getting a tattoo | Source: Pexels

A person getting a tattoo | Source: Pexels

“I saw her in Dad’s office. Daddy was holding her leg, and said that he was treating it. And that the tattoo was very sore,” Sam said matter-of-factly.

A cold shiver ran down my spine. Ryan wasn’t a doctor; he was a lawyer. There was no need to ‘treat’ anyone.

A man reading a document | Source: Pexels

A man reading a document | Source: Pexels

There was no innocent explanation for what Sam had described. I glanced at the saleswoman, her earlier arrogance replaced by a mask of fear.

Just then, Ryan’s voice cut through the tense air.

“Maddie,” he said. “I finally found…” he trailed off as he rounded the corner and saw the tableau before him—his wife, his son, and his mistress in a standstill of awkwardness and shame.

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

Silence enveloped us. Ryan stuttered, attempting to concoct some plausible excuse, but the truth was glaringly obvious in the panic etched across his face.

I silenced him with a raised hand.

Sam gripped onto my hand, and swung it backward and forward a few times. He eyed his father nervously.

A woman with her hand raised | Source: Pexels

A woman with her hand raised | Source: Pexels

“We’ll discuss this at home,” I said quietly, my heart breaking inside.

The saleswoman slipped away, her part in this domestic drama over for the moment.

Before heading home, Ryan took us to Sam’s favorite fast food place. I knew that he was trying to get on Sam’s good side again. I ordered some tea to calm my nerves.

“Can we eat at home?” Sam asked me, his eyes wide with emotion.

A little boy sitting with his parents | Source: Pexels

A little boy sitting with his parents | Source: Pexels

That night, after putting Sam to bed and ensuring that he was sound asleep, I confronted my husband.

The façade of our happy marriage crumbled entirely as he confessed to an affair that had started over a year ago.

The details poured out, each one a dagger in my heart. The trust we had built over years was obliterated in just a few minutes.

A shadow of a couple | Source: Pexels

A shadow of a couple | Source: Pexels

“Sasha and I were just friends,” Ryan said, putting the kettle on for me. “But then we needed to get new computers for the office. So I went to that store—and we got talking. That’s how it started.”

“And you just continued it? Did you even think about Sam and I?”

Ryan shook his head at my words.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just needed something new.”

Office computers on a table | Source: Pexels

Office computers on a table | Source: Pexels

He sat down on the couch and looked at me, as if waiting for me to lose my temper. But I was beyond it. I didn’t want to react in any other manner than calm.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was a fight I didn’t want to have. Ryan had been with this woman for over a year. He had chosen this woman for that long.

He had made his bed.

But the only thing that I wanted to know was why Sam had witnessed the entire interaction.

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Unsplash

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Unsplash

“Why was Sam there?” I asked him.

“It was that day that the daycare needed us to pick up the kids early and you were stuck in meetings. So, I took him to the office for a while. He was supposed to be sitting in the reception and drawing with Nick, but then he came running into my office.”

I filed for divorce soon after. The process was painful—there were tears shed, lawyers were called, and a family was broken.

A table at a daycare facility | Source: Unsplash

A table at a daycare facility | Source: Unsplash

I grappled with the betrayal, struggling to understand how the man I loved could have deceived me so thoroughly.

In the end, it was Sam’s innocent revelation that had brought the painful truth to light. While the knowledge devastated me, it also offered a strange sort of relief.

“Take his money,” my lawyer said. “We’re going to take him for everything he has.”

And I did.

A person signing a document | Source: Pexels

A person signing a document | Source: Pexels

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

Juliet, a single mom, loves raising her nine-year-old daughter, River, by herself. River pushes her to be better. But after a while, Juliet begins to notice fierce independence taking over River—wanting more responsibility and autonomy. But then Juliet discovers a secret that comes with River’s backpack, and a hidden friend comes to light.

Read the full story here.

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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