Yulia Antonovna had long served in the Grigoryev household—Vladimir and Lyudmila. Today the masters had gone somewhere, and the maid, having finished all her chores around the house, sat down to rest by the window. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to a little boy on the street. Skinny and clad in tattered clothes, he was wandering along the fence of their property.
“Perhaps he’s hungry,” sighed Yulia Antonovna, feeling pity for the unfortunate child. Glancing at the huge clock in the living room, she decided that the couple wouldn’t return anytime soon and stepped out into the yard.
“What’s your name?” she asked softly, addressing the boy who was carefully watching the street. “Vasya,” he replied, giving her a wary look from beneath his disheveled bangs. “Well then, Vasya, come with me. I’ll feed you some fresh apple pie,” the woman offered, and the boy, without hesitation, followed her. His stomach had been rumbling from hunger for a long time—he hadn’t eaten anything that day.
In the kitchen, Yulia Antonovna carefully cut an impressive slice of pie with a knife and placed a plate in front of the hungry little one.
“Oh, it’s so delicious!” Vasya exclaimed, greedily biting into the soft pastry. “My mother used to bake a pie just like this once!” “And where is your mother?” the woman asked cautiously. The boy paused, stopped chewing, and sadly lowered his eyes. “I’ve been looking for her for a long time… She disappeared,” he murmured softly. “Eat, eat,” Yulia Antonovna gently encouraged him. “You’ll find your mother, I’m sure you will.”
At that moment, the front door creaked, and Vladimir and Lyudmila entered the house. The maid flinched at the sound of the footsteps.
“And who do we have here as our guest?” Vladimir asked in surprise as he peered into the kitchen. His eyes widened when he saw the boy. “Who did you bring in, Yulia?” he said sternly to the maid. “This child is looking for his mother; he’s hungry, and I decided to feed him,” the woman replied calmly, shrugging her shoulders.
“So now you’re feeding all sorts of strays? And our opinion no longer matters to you?” the master of the house protested.
Hearing these words, Vasya began to cry. “I’m going to leave now,” he mumbled, putting the half-eaten piece of pie back on the plate.
Then Lyudmila intervened: “Wait, boy,” she said softly. “Tell me, where are you from? Where did you lose your mother?”
Lyudmila had always been gentler than her husband. Sometimes Vladimir would scold her for being overly kind, but he had never succeeded in changing her nature.
“I live with my grandfather, but he’s mean. He’s always scolding me for something, and sometimes he even hits me. I ran away from him,” Vasya confessed, and he pulled from the pocket of his old, ragged trousers a yellowed photograph.
“These are my parents. We used to live together,” said the boy, wiping away his tears with his hand as he handed the photo to the homeowners.
Lyudmila, taking the photo in her hands, froze…In the photo was her daughter, Varya! “Look, Volodya, it’s our girl!” she exclaimed, trembling as she passed the photo to her husband.
Vladimir reluctantly took the photo. “Vasya, how did you come by this photo?” he asked in surprise.
“I stole it from my grandfather. On the other side is an address, so I came here. I thought maybe my mother lives here,” the boy answered as he calmed down. “Grandpa always says that my mother is like a cuckoo who abandoned me. But I don’t believe him!”
“It can’t be! It can’t be!” Lyudmila repeated, recalling how their daughter Varya had once run away with a Gypsy named Manush. For several years they hadn’t heard from her, and then she returned, only to be involved in an accident soon after. That day became a nightmare for them, after which they were left completely alone in these huge mansions.
“And where is your father?” Vladimir asked. “And my father is gone. He was buried six months ago,” Vasya cried once more.
The pair was stunned. They had found a grandson! Tired of loneliness, they decided to keep the boy with them.
“You know, little one, we’ll take you to your room,” said Lyudmila. “And will my mother come?” asked Vasya. “Your mother is now with your father,” the woman replied sadly.
Vasya paled.
After a while, the couple finalized the adoption documents. The boy’s grandfather did not object upon learning that his grandson could be taken in by affluent people.
Yulia Antonovna was delighted. Thanks to that day when she met the little one, the homeowners became happy. In time, Vasya was no longer the destitute, hungry stray. Instead, he became a well-dressed boy, aware of proper manners, with a loving family.
I Found My Late Husband’s Old Wristwatch in My Second Husband’s Nightstand Drawer
When Angela stumbles upon her late husband’s wristwatch inside her second husband Bryan’s nightstand drawer, her world shatters. She confronts Bryan, but his answers reveal a devastating truth that tears her life apart.
I don’t know how to begin, but maybe it’s best if I just tell it as it happened. There are days that start out ordinary, and then, in the blink of an eye, everything changes. This was one of those days.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
I was tidying up the house, keeping busy, keeping my mind from wandering too much into the past. Bryan’s side of the bed was its usual mess, with socks kicked off hurriedly and his nightstand drawer slightly open.
I wasn’t snooping, I swear, but something about that open drawer caught my eye. Maybe it was just instinct, or maybe it was fate pushing me toward the truth.
When I opened it fully, I didn’t expect to find anything out of the ordinary. But then I saw it.
An open drawer | Source: Pexels
A wristwatch. And not just any wristwatch. It had belonged to my late husband Jeff. The one I gave him on our first anniversary, with the words “Forever Yours, A.” engraved on the back. My heart stopped and literally skipped a beat as I picked it up with trembling hands.
I knew that watch like I knew my heartbeat. But it shouldn’t be here. Bryan didn’t even know Jeff. I only met him six months after Jeff died. I felt a cold wave of confusion wash over me.
How could Bryan have this? It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I dropped the watch, my hands shaking too much to hold onto it. It fell to the carpet with a soft thud, but the noise echoed in my head like a bomb going off.
When Bryan came home that evening, I didn’t even let him take off his coat before I confronted him. My voice was tight, barely controlled, as I held up the watch in front of him.
“Where did you get this?”
The look on his face told me everything and nothing at the same time.
A man with an unreadable expression | Source: Midjourney
He went pale, eyes wide like he’d seen a ghost. He just stared at the watch, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t find the words. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, until I thought I might scream just to break it.
Finally, Bryan spoke, but his voice was so soft that I had to strain to hear him. “I… I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“Find out what?” I snapped, my frustration bubbling over.
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
He looked away, running a hand through his hair, his whole body tense like he was bracing for impact. “Angela, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you from the beginning, but I didn’t know how.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “What are you talking about?”
“Jeff was… Jeff was my brother.”
I stared at him, my mind rejecting the words. It felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, and I couldn’t breathe.
A woman gasping in shock | Source: Midjourney
“Your brother? But Jeff never said he had a brother… and you never said anything either. We’ve been married three years! How could you—”
“I didn’t just not say anything, Angela. I hid it. Years ago, I changed my name, left the country, and cut all ties with my past. I was bitter, angry, and I couldn’t stand being around my family anymore. Jeff and I had a falling out. A big one. And I thought the only way to move on was to leave it all behind, including him.”
Bryan’s voice cracked, and he looked at me with such sorrow in his eyes that it made my heart ache.
A sad man | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t know Jeff was gone until months later. By the time I came back, it was too late. He was already dead. I went to his grave, and that’s when I saw you.”
I could feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. “You saw me there? At Jeff’s grave?”
Bryan nodded, his hands shaking. “Yes. I didn’t know who you were at first, but when I found out, I… I don’t know, Angela. I was drawn to you.”
A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was something else, but I couldn’t stay away. And then… then we fell in love.”
I felt like the room was spinning. This man, the one I had trusted, had kept this from me? This wasn’t just some mistake; this was my entire life, everything I thought I knew, turned upside down.
“But the watch,” I managed to say, my voice shaking as much as my hands. “How did you get Jeff’s watch?”
A woman speaking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
“After I came back, I found my mother at Jeff’s grave. She forgave me, even though I didn’t deserve it. And she gave me this,” he gestured to the watch, his voice heavy with regret. “It was the only thing she had left of Jeff. A way to make peace, she said. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you’d hate me.”
I stood there, staring at the man I thought I knew, and I couldn’t make sense of anything anymore.
Close up of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
His words kept circling in my head, wrapping tighter around my heart, choking the life out of me. Jeff’s brother. How had I missed it? How could I have been so blind?
“Angela, please,” he started, taking a step closer. But I held up my hand to stop him, needing distance, needing to breathe. I couldn’t look at him without seeing all the lies, all the secrets that had been hiding in plain sight.
“I… I can’t do this,” I said, my voice sounding foreign, hollow.
A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
The room felt like it was closing in on me, the walls pushing in until there was no space left to think, to feel anything but the overwhelming weight of betrayal.
“Angela, listen to me,” Bryan pleaded, his voice breaking. “I know I should have told you from the beginning, but I didn’t want to lose you.”
“But you already have,” I whispered, barely able to say the words out loud. They hurt too much, like shards of glass scraping against my throat.
A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney
“You lost me the moment you decided to hide this from me. You let me fall in love with a lie.”
He shook his head, desperation in his eyes. “No, it wasn’t a lie. My love for you is real. Everything we’ve built together, it’s real. I swear to you, Angela, I never meant to deceive you.”
“Maybe not,” I said, my voice trembling as I fought to keep it together. “But you did. You deceived me every day you looked me in the eye and didn’t tell me the truth. I trusted you, Bryan. I trusted you with everything I had left after Jeff, and now… now I don’t even know who you are.”
A woman pointing her finger | Source: Midjourney
The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. Bryan’s shoulders slumped, his face a mask of sorrow and regret. I could see the pain in his eyes, but it didn’t change the fact that I felt like I’d been living in someone else’s story, a story I didn’t sign up for.
I turned away from him, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over.
“I need to pack,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. I needed to move, to do something, anything, to keep from falling apart completely.
A woman in a darkened hallway | Source: Midjourney
“Please, Angela, don’t go,” Bryan begged, but his voice sounded distant. It was as if it was coming from the other end of a tunnel. “We can work through this. We can—”
“There’s nothing to work through,” I interrupted, choking on my own words. “I can’t stay in this marriage, Bryan. Not after this. I can’t stay with someone I don’t even recognize anymore.”
I walked to the bedroom, each step feeling heavier than the last. My hands shook as I pulled out a suitcase, the sound of the zipper echoing in the room.
A woman packing a suitcase | Source: Pexels
Bryan stood in the doorway, his face pale, watching me pack with a helplessness that almost broke me. Almost. But the anger and betrayal were stronger, driving me forward and pushing me to leave behind everything we had built.
“Angela, please,” he said one last time, his voice so soft, so broken, it was almost a whisper.
But I couldn’t stop. If I stopped, I’d crumble, and I couldn’t afford that. Not now. Not ever.
A woman hanging her head | Source: Midjourney
I zipped up the suitcase and lifted it from the bed. My heart pounded as I walked past him without a word. As I reached the front door, I hesitated, just for a moment.
Part of me wanted to turn back, to give him one last look, but I couldn’t. I knew if I did, I might lose the strength I’d gathered to walk away.
So I stepped out the door, the cool evening air hitting my face like a slap. I didn’t look back as I walked to my car and climbed in, each step feeling like I was tearing my heart out.
A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
But I kept going because there was no other choice. The man I loved, the man I thought I knew, was a stranger. And I couldn’t live with that. Not anymore.
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