Matthew filed for divorce from Anne when she couldn’t give him a son, but he still lived in their house. One day, she met Harry, an old friend from school, and eventually realized how much better she was without Matthew. Years later, Anne accidentally ran into her ex-husband and couldn’t recognize him.
“Oh my God! Harry! It’s so nice to see you!” Anne exclaimed when she accidentally stumbled into her old school friend on the street. She had left her five girls with her mother, a rare break for her, and wanted to get a cup of coffee on the streets of Seattle.
“Anne, it’s lovely to see you too! Hey, would you want to get some coffee and catch up?” Harry answered, and she nodded immediately. They went into the café and chit-chatted until Harry asked about her family.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oh… that’s actually a difficult subject,” she began.
“Well, raising five children is not easy for anyone,” Harry commented, knowing a bit of her from social media and such.
“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray.
“Yeah, sure. That’s hard. But it’s more than that,” Anne continued. “Matthew changed after the birth of our twins. They’re 9 and they barely speak to their father. I think they’re scared of him.”
“I don’t understand,” Harry said.
“Matthew wanted a boy, and we hoped, but we had two beautiful girls instead. That’s why we got pregnant again and again, but we kept having girls. After our fifth daughter was born, Matthew became another man. He filed for divorce, and I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Anne explained about her husband, her hand wiping the sweat forming on her forehead.
“Wow. That’s rough. But think about this, you’ll be better off without him, right? I mean if he hasn’t been speaking to your eldest girls, then he couldn’t have been the best father to the rest. You already raised them on your own,” Harry encouraged. “And now that I’m in Seattle permanently, I could help. You could move in with me.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Anne’s jaw dropped. She didn’t expect such an offer from Harry, especially since they had just met again after many years. But she knew back in school that he always had a huge crush on her. Still, that offer was too generous and kind. She couldn’t accept it. She changed the subject, and they talked about his successful life.
Meanwhile, things at her house got even worse over the next few weeks. They were divorcing, but Matthew still lived with her, acting like he was single, partying, making noise at odd hours, waking the girls, and being a menace to them.
Anne would talk to Harry all the time, and his offer still stood. But when Matthew decided to bring a girl over to their marital home, Anne was done. She called Harry, packed, and left the house with all the girls.
Their divorce got more complicated when she took Matthew to court to get their big house back. Despite her living in Harry’s house, her soon-to-be ex-husband didn’t deserve to keep their big home. The judge granted her every request based on Matthew’s horrible lifestyle and gave her full custody without question.
Eventually, she and Harry fell in love, and he bought an even bigger home for their family. When she and the girls moved in with him, she put her house up for rent and stopped thinking about Matthew for many years.
***
A year after marrying Harry, Anne had their son, Alan, who was the most beautiful boy in the world, and he had five big sisters adoring him at every moment. Anne couldn’t have been happier.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
More time passed, and one day, she picked Alan up from preschool and decided to drop by the mall to buy him new shoes. The girls were busy with their extracurriculars, so it was only mother and son.
Anne never imagined she would run into Matthew there. He was working at the pretzel shop, in charge of distributing free samples at the mall, and Alan ran up to him asking for some.
“Alan, don’t run away from me like that,” she said to him before catching a glimpse of Matthew’s surprised eyes.
“Anne?”
“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray. It didn’t make sense. Matthew worked in an office as an executive. He earned a decent amount of money. He was required to pay tons in child support, but he never did, and Anne didn’t care. She had more than enough for her girls. But he wouldn’t be able to pay what was required with a minimum wage job at the mall.
“I’m working here,” he said and looked at the boy holding her with one hand and munching on a pretzel with the other. “Is this your son?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Yes, this is Alan,” Anne answered, feeling an intense pride that she had a son that wasn’t his. “He’s Harry’s kid.”
“Oh, nice to meet you, Alan,” Matthew said, looking down and giving the kid a weird look. Of course, it was not Anne’s fault that she gave birth to girls. The sperm determines the gender, and everyone knows that. But Matthew had decided to blame her for years and checked out of their marriage because he wanted a boy, as if gender was important at all.
Luckily, the girls now had an actual father figure, thanks to Harry, who loved them dearly from the first moment they met. They didn’t need him, and Anne never had to see him.
“Listen, Anne. I didn’t want to ask this now. I wanted to take you to coffee or something. But I’m desperate. I lost everything due to my lifestyle, and I was wondering if we could sell our old house,” Matthew asked, his head down in shame.
“Oh… well, it’s currently being rented. But I’ll think about it,” Anne said. “We have to go now. I’ll call you about the house.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
She grabbed Alan’s hand tightly and walked away from the man who didn’t know what he had thrown away. But she was going to be the bigger person. She sold the house and gave him half its worth, although legally, she could keep the entire thing. But something in her gut told her to do the right thing.
Eventually, Matthew asked to see the girls, but none of them wanted that. The twins were teenagers who grew to hate him, and the rest followed their big sisters’ footsteps. Matthew stopped asking about them and stopped calling after a while. They never saw him again. He wasn’t family.
What can we learn from this story?
- Family is more than just DNA. Matthew didn’t want to be a father to his children, and Harry stepped up for the girls.
- You might regret your actions. Matthew lost everything, including his high-paying job, and it was clear he regretted what he did, but he couldn’t take it back.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
I Returned Home with My Daughter Only to Find Out My Husband Had Disappeared — the Reason Left Me Speechless
They say life can change in an instant. For me, that instant came on a Tuesday evening when I returned home from the park with my four-year-old daughter to find our apartment eerily quiet and my husband’s closet completely empty.
Have you ever had that feeling where your whole world shifts beneath your feet? Where everything you thought you knew suddenly doesn’t make sense anymore?
That’s exactly how I felt when I found that note from my husband, telling me he’d only return if I fulfilled “one request.”
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
I used to think I had a pretty good handle on my life.
At thirty, I had what most people would consider the whole package. A beautiful daughter, a stable marriage, and a cozy apartment in the city.
Sure, Jordan and I had our moments, like any couple married for six years, but we always worked through them.
I thought my life was going well until that Tuesday evening when my world came crashing down.
A woman standing near a window | Source: Pexels
“Mommy, can we go to the park?” Grace asked that afternoon, her big brown eyes pleading with me as she hugged her favorite stuffed rabbit. “Please? I want to show Mr. Hoppy the new swings!”
I smiled, setting aside the pile of laundry I’d been folding. “You know what? That sounds like a perfect idea.”
The park was just a few blocks from our apartment, and Grace chatted the whole way there about her day at daycare.
A black fence in a park | Source: Pexels
“And then Emma shared her cookies with me at snack time, and Miss Sarah said my drawing was the prettiest!”
“That’s wonderful, sweetie,” I laughed, swinging our joined hands between us. “Was it another unicorn drawing?”
“No, silly! It was our family,” she said. “You and me and Daddy and Mr. Hoppy!”
We spent nearly an hour at the park, Grace conquering the slide at least twenty times before I gave her several final pushes on the swings.
The late afternoon sun was starting to dip when I finally convinced her it was time to head home.
A girl blowing bubbles in a park | Source: Pexels
“But Mommy, just five more minutes?” she begged.
“Come on, munchkin. We need to start thinking about dinner.”
The first sign something was wrong came when we reached our floor. The door to our apartment was slightly ajar, which was unusual. Jordan was always careful about security.
“Jordan?” I called out as we stepped inside. “Hey, are you home early?”
Silence.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Grace, honey, why don’t you go put Mr. Hoppy in your room?” I suggested, trying to keep my voice casual despite the growing unease in my stomach.
Something felt off.
As soon as Grace disappeared down the hall, I headed straight for our bedroom. But the sight that greeted me made my heart stop.
Jordan’s side of the closet was completely empty. His dresser drawers hung open, cleared out. His laptop was gone from his desk, along with the framed photo of us from our honeymoon that usually sat beside it.
A desk in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
My hands were shaking as I noticed the piece of paper on his pillow. The message was brief, written in Jordan’s familiar scrawl.
I will return only if you fulfill ONE REQUEST.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, the note crumpling slightly in my trembling fingers. What was happening?
Jordan and I had argued about him working too much just last week, but we’d made up. Everything had been fine. Normal. Hadn’t it?
“Mommy?” Grace’s small voice came from the doorway. “Where’s all Daddy’s stuff?”
A little girl looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
I quickly stood up and forced a smile.
“Hey sweetie. Daddy… Daddy had to go away for a little while. But it’s okay. We’re okay.”
As I pulled her into a hug, I wondered if I was trying to convince her or myself. Either way, I had a sinking feeling that nothing was really okay at all.
My first instinct was to call Jordan’s cell. With Grace playing in her room, I paced our living room, listening to the rings until his voicemail picked up.
“Jordan, where are you? What’s going on? Please call me back immediately.”
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
I tried messaging him on every social platform we used, but nothing helped. After an hour of silence, I started calling his friends.
“Hey Mike, it’s Kathryn,” I said when his best friend answered. “Have you heard from Jordan today?”
“Kathryn? No, haven’t talked to him since last week’s game night. Everything okay?”
“I… I don’t know. He’s gone. Like, really gone. His clothes, his laptop… everything’s gone, and he left this weird note about coming back if I fulfill some request.”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
There was a long pause. “What? That doesn’t sound like Jordan at all. Have you called Tom or Steve?”
I called everyone I could think of, but nobody had heard anything.
Finally, with my hands shaking, I dialed his parents’ number.
“Linda? It’s Kathryn,” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Is Jordan with you?”
“Jordan? No, honey. Is something wrong? You sound upset.”
An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
“He’s… he’s gone. I came home and all his things were gone. He left a note saying he’ll only come back if I fulfill some request, but I don’t know what he wants. I can’t reach him anywhere.”
“What do you mean, gone?” Linda’s voice rose with concern.
“Robert!” I heard her call to Jordan’s father. “Robert, come here. Something’s happened with Jordan.”
“We haven’t heard anything from him,” Robert’s gruff voice came on the line. “This isn’t like him at all. Have you called the police?”
“I… no, not yet. I kept hoping he’d call or come back or…”
A woman talking to her in-laws | Source: Midjourney
“Call them,” Robert interrupted firmly. “Right now. We’re coming over.”
I ended the call and dialed 911, my voice cracking as I explained the situation. Within thirty minutes, two officers were at our door – Officers Martinez and Chen according to their badges.
“Ma’am, can you tell us exactly what happened?” Officer Martinez asked, notebook in hand.
I recounted everything while Officer Chen examined the apartment.
A close-up shot of an officer’s uniform | Source: Pexels
Grace had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from the park and confused by all the commotion.
“And there were no signs of forced entry?” Officer Chen asked.
“No. He must have just… packed up and left while we were at the park.”
“Any recent arguments? Financial troubles? Signs of depression?”
I shook my head. “Nothing unusual. We had a small argument last week about his work hours, but we resolved it. Everything seemed fine.”
A woman talking to a police officer | Source: Midjourney
They took down all the information, but I could tell from their expressions that there wasn’t much they could do. Jordan was an adult who had left of his own accord.
“We’ll file a missing persons report,” Officer Martinez said gently, “but since there’s no sign of foul play…”
“I understand,” I whispered.
The next three days were a blur. I barely slept, jumping every time my phone buzzed. Jordan’s parents helped with Grace while I made more calls, checked our bank accounts, and tried to piece together any clues I might have missed.
Then came the doorbell on that third day.
A person ringing the doorbell | Source: Pexels
I rushed to answer it, hope surging in my chest, only to find a plain brown package on our welcome mat.
My heart pounded as I picked it up, already knowing somehow that it was from Jordan.
The package had a DNA test and a letter. I quickly took the letter out and read it.
A close-up shot of a handwritten letter | Source: Pexels
Dear Kathryn
I know this may come as a shock, but I need to know the truth. I’ve always suspected something.
Recently, I was looking through some old college photos of yours, and I saw your best friend from back then. As I looked at the picture, I couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance between her and Grace. Same hair color, same eyes, same nose.
I started wondering if Grace was not really my daughter.
I’m sorry, but I need you to do a DNA test for Grace. I can’t continue without knowing.
If you send me the results and they confirm I’m her father, I’ll return. If not, I can’t come back.
Please, send the results to the address below.
I couldn’t believe it.
A woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney
Eight years together, and this was what he thought of me? Of our daughter? All because Grace happened to look like my old college friend?
I sat at our kitchen table, staring at that letter until the words blurred.
“You want proof?” I whispered to the empty room. “Fine. You’ll get your proof.”
I went ahead and did the DNA test. Not because Jordan wanted it. Because I wanted to prove how wrong he was.
I quickly took a cheek swab while Grace was sleeping. She barely stirred when I did it. Then, I sealed the sample and sent it for testing.
A woman sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney
While we waited for the results, I threw myself into keeping life normal for Grace. But at night, after she was asleep, the anger would come rushing back.
“Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?” Grace asked one morning over breakfast.
I smoothed her hair, fighting back tears. “I’m not sure, sweetie. But you know what? You and me… we’re going to be just fine.”
“Like Emma and her mommy?” she asked, referring to her friend from daycare whose parents had divorced last year.
“Maybe,” I said softly. “We’ll figure it out together.”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
When the DNA results finally arrived, I wasn’t even surprised. Of course, Jordan was Grace’s father. I’d never had a single doubt.
But as I held those results in my hands, I realized something important. Proving Jordan wrong wasn’t going to fix what he’d broken.
I sat down at my laptop and began typing.
A woman typing a letter | Source: Pexels
Dear Jordan,
Here are your precious DNA results. Congratulations! You’re officially Grace’s biological father. But you know what? It doesn’t matter anymore. A real father wouldn’t abandon his daughter over a paranoid suspicion. A real husband wouldn’t disappear and leave his family in panic. A real man wouldn’t hide behind notes and packages instead of having an actual conversation.
You wanted the truth? Here’s the truth: We don’t need you. I don’t want someone who could throw away eight years of love and trust because our daughter happens to look like my old friend. Grace deserves better than a father who could doubt her very existence. I deserve better than a husband who could think so little of me.
Don’t bother coming back. We’re done.
-Kathryn
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
I sent both the results and my letter to the address he’d provided. Then I blocked his number, called a lawyer, and started the process of filing for divorce.
That evening, as Grace and I sat coloring at the kitchen table, she looked up at me with those innocent eyes and asked, “Are you sad, Mommy?”
I thought about it for a moment.
“No, sweetie,” I replied, realizing it was true. “I’m not sad. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is say goodbye to something that’s not good for us anymore.”
She nodded sagely, in that way only four-year-olds can, and went back to her coloring.
A child coloring a rainbow | Source: Pexels
It’s been a week now, and I haven’t heard anything from Jordan. Maybe he’s ashamed. Maybe he’s angry. Maybe he’s relieved.
Honestly, I don’t care anymore. His disappearing act showed me exactly who he was, and his ridiculous demand proved what he thought of me.
Some people might think I’m being too harsh, cutting him out completely. But tell me, what would you do if someone you loved disappeared without a word, put you through days of panic and worry, only to demand a DNA test based on a photo resemblance? Would you take them back? Or would you do what I did and choose your own peace of mind?
All I know is that Grace and I are going to be just fine.
A woman sitting on the floor | Source Midjourney
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