A pregnant mother of three needs to sell her stroller to feed her three children after she was abandoned by her husband.Anne Sargent sat on her kitchen floor and cried. It was past midnight, and it was the only time she could allow herself to show her pain — when her three children were asleep upstairs.Anne felt the baby move and placed a tender hand on her belly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to her unborn child. “I’m doing my best, but it’s just not good enough…” Just two months ago, Anne had been a radially happy wife and mother, confidently expecting the birth of her fourth child, and confident in her place in the world and her husband’s love. That woman was gone.Anne was expecting her fourth child when her husband walked out.| Source: Unsplash Derek had come home one night and told her he was leaving, just like that. “But why?” asked Anne. “I don’t understand, I thought we were happy!”“YOU were happy!” Derek cried. “YOU,not me! All you did was have babies and fuss over them, now there’s one more on the way!” “But you WANTED children!” Anne protested. “You were happy every time I was pregnant…”A family is built on understanding and mutual respect. Happy?” screamed Derek. “Happy that you gave all your love and attention to the kids? All I was to you was a paycheck! Well, that’s OVER!” So three months after Anne announced her fourth pregnancy, Derek was gone. Anne immediately went out and found herself a part-time job at a local grocery store.All you did was have babies and fuss over them!” | Source: Unsplash The owner would have been willing to give her a full-time job, but for that, Anne would have needed to pay a sitter for her three boys and that would have consumed most of her salary,so she carefully stretched her salary. But even with the child support check Derek sent, it just wasn’t enough. Anne started selling some antique china she’d inherited from her grandmother and that paid for the utilities for a few months. Then she sold a silver brush-and-mirror set she’d had since she was a little girl, and that paid for groceries. Little by little, as her belly grew, Anne sold her treasures to keep her family safe and fed. Then one day, there was nothing left to sell except bric-a-brac. Anything of greater value was gone. Anne looked at the old stroller she’d brought up from the cellar. It had been hers when she was a baby and had been used by each of her children in turn. It was very old, probably from the sixties,but it was in mint condition.Anne was devastated by Derek’s attitude. | Source: Unsplash She ran her hand over the roses painted on the side and bit back her tears. She needed it for the new baby, but she needed the money even more.She thought about getting a good price for it down at the flea market. Vintage items were always popular… And so she took the stroller to the flea market, and one of the dealers gave her $50 for it. Not much at all, but every cent helped.Anne walked away, sure she’d never see the stroller again, but she was wrong. Two days later, she opened the front door and saw the stroller on the porch! There was an envelope inside and Anne opened it and read: “Please call me.” The message was followed by a phone number. Anne called the number ad a woman answered her. “Hello?” Anne said. “Are you the person who left the stroller? How did you know who it belonged to and where I live?”Anne got a part-time job as a teller. s Derek told me,” the woman on the other side said. “I’m Grace Robbs. I think we should meet.” An hour later, Grace was sitting on Anne’s sofa sipping tea. She was a pretty woman, six or seven years younger than Anne, and she looked very unhappy. Her pale skin was blotched and her eyes were swollen as if she’d been crying. “How do you know Derek,” Anne asked, even though in her heart she already knew the answer. “I was his girlfriend,” Grace said. “Was?” asked Anne. “You broke up?”What Anne earned just wasn’t enough. | Source: Unsplash “Today, as a matter of fact,” Grace said and started crying. “I didn’t know…I didn’t know about you or the children, or the baby… I found out I was pregnant, and I didn’t know how to tell him…” t“So I went to the flea market with a friend and saw this darling stroller and I bought it. I put it in the middle of the lounge and tied balloons to it with a message: ‘Hello Dad!’” “But he wasn’t happy like I thought he’d be. He started screaming and asking where II got the stroller and if his stupid wife had given it to me. He asked if it was a joke.” He told me to take it right back, that he didn’t want to know about your baby. So I told him: ‘It’s for OUR baby.’ and that’s when he went crazy.” “He accused me of wanting to trap him and said he already had three brats with you and one more on the way, and he didn’t want my baby. He told me to get out and come to you.”Anne sold her beautiful vintage stroller in the flea market. | Source: Unsplash He said: ‘Might as well have all the breeding cows under the same roof.’ I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about you, I guess I didn’t know him at all!” Anne got up and put her arm around the crying girl. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.” “He’s kicked me out,” Grace said quietly. “I have no family here and nowhere to go. I have a job, but with the rents in this city, I can’t afford to live alone, and who is going to want a pregnant roommate?” “I will!” Anne said firmly. “I need a tenant because what I earn isn’t enough, and I can’t work full-time because I can’t afford a babysitter for after school.” “But…” Grace’s face lit up. “I work online! I can take care of the kids after school. I love kids!”Anne and Grace comforted each other. | Source: Unsplash Advertisement “So I can take a full-time job?” asked Anne, delighted. “The owner of the grocery store wants me to manage it for him. With your help, I can! And you don’t have to worry about stuff for the baby. After three kids I have enough for an army.” Grace smiled through her tears. “And we have the stroller too…” she pointed out. “Are you sure? It’s Derek’s baby…” “No,” Anne shook her head. “It’s YOUR baby, and my children’s sibling, that is all that matters.” The two women settled into a new life together, and when Anne’s baby was born, Grace was there. When it was Grace’s turn four months later, Anne held her hand. They became a real family and raised their five children together.Anne and Grace raised their children together. | Source: Unsplash Advertisement As for Derek, he had several failed relationships and eventually came knocking on Anne’s door. He was shocked when he saw Grace there and asked to speak to Anne. “What do you want, Derek?” Anne asked. “I miss you, babe…” Derek said. Anne stared at him for a long moment then said, “Sorry, so not interested!” And she closed the door in his face.
I Discovered Hotel Receipts in My Husband’s Car, Uncovering a Heartbreaking Truth — but Karma Took Its Toll on Him Severely
This shift in his pattern piqued my curiosity and concern. One weekend, while Derek was out visiting a friend, I decided to clean his car—a task that he usually took upon himself.
As I vacuumed the interior and wiped down the dashboard, I stumbled upon a stack of receipts tucked away in the glove compartment. My hands trembled slightly as I unfolded them, revealing charges for a hotel room right here in our town. The dates on these receipts coincided perfectly with the days he claimed to be out of town for work.
My initial instinct was to rationalize these findings. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation, like a mix-up with the receipts or perhaps he was helping out a friend in need. But as much as I wanted to dismiss my growing suspicions, the seeds of doubt had already been planted deep in my mind.
Determined to get to the bottom of this, I started to pay closer attention to Derek’s comings and goings. I started noting the times he left the house and the purported destinations for his business trips.
My scrutiny extended to collecting any and all receipts I could find—whether they were casually discarded in his pockets or left behind in his car. Most were mundane, everyday purchases, but every so often, another hotel receipt would surface among them, each one like a small jolt to my heart.
This pattern continued, each receipt adding weight to the uneasy feeling settling in my chest. The more I found, the more the pieces began to form a picture I was afraid to confront.
Yet, despite the mounting evidence, I hadn’t brought up my concerns with Derek. I was torn between not wanting to believe my husband could be deceiving me and the growing realization that I needed to address these doubts somehow.
The next few days were filled with a thick tension that seemed to permeate our home. Derek’s comings and goings became even more erratic, and his excuses grew increasingly flimsy. “I have to leave urgently,” he’d announce abruptly, and I’d nod, feigning indifference. But inside, my suspicion and resentment were building to a crescendo.
One evening, fed up with the lies, I decided to follow him. He left the house in a rush, barely managing a goodbye. I waited a few minutes before I quietly slipped into my car and trailed behind him from a safe distance.
My heart pounded as I drove, each turn he took adding to the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach. He didn’t head towards the office or any business district; instead, he pulled into the parking lot of the same hotel from the receipts.
I parked a little way off and made my way to the lobby, trying to blend in with the crowd. I found a discreet spot near the elevators from where I could observe without being seen.
It wasn’t long before I saw him—Derek, my husband, the father of my children—walking side by side with a woman. They were laughing, touching each other’s arms intimately, and then they embraced, a long, passionate hug that made my heart sink.
The shock of seeing them together, so close, so personal, was nearly overwhelming. My hands shook with a mix of anger, sorrow, and disbelief. Driven by a surge of adrenaline, I stepped out from my hiding spot and confronted them. The look on their faces was priceless—shock, guilt, fear—it was all there. Derek stammered, and tried to explain, but I didn’t want to hear any of it.
The next few days were a blur of arguments, tears, and revelations. It turned out that the woman was more than just a fling; Derek had believed they had something special.
But the ultimate betrayal came when I learned from a mutual friend that, shortly after our breakup, she had scammed him. She had persuaded Derek to open a joint account under the guise of starting a new life together. Then, without warning, she withdrew every penny and disappeared, leaving him devastated and financially ruined.
This revelation didn’t bring me any satisfaction. Instead, there was a hollow feeling of vindication mixed with immense sadness for the chaos that now surrounded what was once a family united. Derek was a broken man, deceived by someone he trusted, just as he had deceived me.
In the wake of our separation, I found myself reevaluating everything that had happened. Our home felt different, and emptier, as I dealt with the aftermath of Derek’s actions on our marriage and our family’s financial stability. The prenup, once a simple precaution, now seemed like a prescient safeguard that protected what little I had left for our children’s future.
Derek’s affair and the subsequent scam had not only ended our marriage but had also left him in ruins. It was a painful irony that he was duped in much the same way he had deceived me. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him—he was, after all, the man I had once loved deeply.
Now, as I stand in the quiet of what used to be our shared living room, I realize the depth of the betrayal and the indelible mark it has left on my life. Moving forward won’t be easy, but it’s necessary. For me, for our kids, and even for Derek, the path to healing is going to be a long one, but it starts with stepping out of the shadows of deception and reclaiming my life, one day at a time.
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