Mary juggled everything at home while her husband, George, stayed hands-off. Fed up, she decided to take a day for herself, leaving their daughter in his care. But as she relaxed by the ocean, her phone lit up with missed calls from the school. Now, fear set in—what happened while she was away?
Mary stood in the kitchen, moving frantically as she tried to make breakfast. She glanced at the clock and groaned. She had overslept again. Meanwhile, George was still snoring loudly upstairs.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She flipped the toast out of the toaster, only to see that it was burnt. “Ugh!” she muttered, tossing it aside. Without slowing down, she cracked eggs into the pan, but in her hurry, they burned just like the toast.
Suddenly, her alarm blared again, making her jump. “Oh, come on!” she cried, and in the confusion, she knocked over her cup of coffee.
The hot liquid splashed onto her arm, stinging her skin. “Damn it!” she yelped, grabbing a towel to wipe off the mess.
With no time to waste, she rushed to Missy’s room. She sat on the edge of the bed, gently shaking her daughter awake. “Missy, honey, it’s time to get up,” she said softly. Missy groaned, rolling over and pulling the blanket over her head.
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Mary lifted the still half-asleep Missy and carried her to the bathroom. As she helped Missy wash her face and brush her teeth, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair was wild, her pajamas were wrinkled, and a big coffee stain covered her shirt.
She carried Missy down the hall, heading toward the bedroom. She pushed the door open with her foot and saw George sprawled out on the bed, snoring softly.
“George, I’m running late. Missy’s going to be late for school. Can you help me, please?” Her voice was almost pleading.
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George grunted and rolled to his side, burying his face in the pillow. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.
Mary sighed and hurried back downstairs, Missy clinging to her. She set Missy down at the table, grabbed a box of cereal, and poured it into a bowl, adding milk.
“I don’t want this!” Missy whined, pushing the bowl away.
Mary took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
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“Pancakes!”
Mary glanced at the time. She was almost out of it. “George!” she shouted toward the stairs. “I really need your help! Get Missy dressed!”
Silence. Not a single sound came from George.
Gritting her teeth, Mary grabbed the pancake mix and began braiding Missy’s hair as the batter sizzled in the pan.
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George finally strolled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. His gaze landed on the stove. “Oh! Pancakes!” he said with a smile, sitting at the table. Without a care in the world, he grabbed a fork and began eating.
Mary glanced at him, her hands busy packing Missy’s lunch. Her shoulders ached from rushing around all morning, but she kept quiet.
“Did you forget to grab my morning paper?” George asked between bites.
Something inside Mary snapped. The words hit her like a slap. “Your paper?!” she yelled. “Why don’t you get it yourself? I’ve been running around like a maniac this morning getting Missy ready for school! I asked you to help! You didn’t even try!”
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George blinked, looking confused. “But I work, and you’re a stay-at-home mom…”
Mary cut him off. “You’re on vacation!” she screamed. “You know what? I’ve had enough! I’m taking the day off. You’re dropping Missy off and picking her up from school. You’re watching her all day. I need a break!”
George scratched his head, frowning. “I thought she still went to kindergarten.”
“Aaagh!” Mary shouted, storming out of the kitchen. She raced upstairs to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her.
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Mary stood in the bathroom, listening to the faint sound of George and Missy leaving. The front door clicked shut, and for a moment, there was silence.
She let out a long breath. Slowly, she turned on the shower, letting the hot water wash over her. It felt good, soothing her frayed nerves.
Afterward, she got dressed in comfortable clothes, grabbed a small bag, and packed a few essentials—her wallet, a book, and some snacks.
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She walked out of the house, locking the door behind her. Climbing into the car, she started the engine and drove toward the ocean, craving a peaceful escape.
Mary stretched out on the warm sand, feeling the sun on her skin. The sound of the waves calmed her, washing away the morning’s stress. She swam in the cool water, floated on her back, and felt a rare sense of peace. For once, she left her phone buried in her bag.
After a while, she sat up and reached for her phone, thinking it was time to check in. As she turned on the screen, her heart skipped a beat. There were over ten missed calls from the school. Something was wrong.
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Mary’s hands shook as she dialed the school’s number. When someone finally answered, she could barely keep her voice steady.
“Hello? You called? Is something wrong?” Mary asked, her voice trembling.
“Yes, Mrs. Johnson,” replied an elderly woman on the other end. “Missy has gone missing. She went outside during recess and didn’t come back.”
Mary’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean? How could she not return?” she almost shouted, her fear rising.
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“We tried reaching you and your husband, but we couldn’t get through.”
Mary felt like the world was spinning. “How could you let this happen?!” she screamed.
“Please, Mrs. Johnson, calm down,” the woman said gently. “We’re doing everything we can to find her.”
“How can you say that?!” Mary yelled. “You don’t know what’s happened to her!” Her voice cracked as she spoke. Without waiting for a reply, she hung up, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
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She dialed George’s number, throwing clothes into her bag. When he answered, she didn’t waste a second.
“Where are you?!” she screamed into the phone, her voice filled with panic.
“I’m with the police,” George replied. “I’m giving them information about Missy.”
Mary froze for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart. For once, George was stepping up, actually doing something for their daughter.
“But I was told the school couldn’t reach you,” Mary said.
“Yeah… I was at the bar with a colleague, but I saw the missed calls and called them back right away,” George replied, sounding guilty.
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“All right,” she managed to say, her voice steadier now. “I’m on my way.” She hung up, grabbed her keys, and rushed to the car.
She jumped into the car, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the keys. The engine roared to life, and she sped out of the parking lot. Her heart pounded in her chest as she weaved through traffic, ignoring the honks and angry shouts from other drivers.
She gripped the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away, focusing on the road ahead.
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Finally, she skidded to a stop in front of the school. Barely shutting the car door, she rushed inside. The teachers and staff crowded around her, their faces filled with worry.
“Missy didn’t come back to class after recess,” one of them explained. “We’ve been searching everywhere.”
Mary didn’t wait to hear more. She darted down the hallways, calling out Missy’s name. She checked every bathroom, looked under tables in classrooms, peeked behind doors, her desperation growing with each step.
“Missy! Where are you?” she cried. She started to feel dizzy, her breaths coming in short gasps. Her mind screamed, This is my fault! I should have never left her with George!
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Mary sat on the school steps, burying her face in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her body shook with quiet sobs. She felt helpless. Missy was still missing, and she didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, her phone rang. She jumped, quickly wiping her eyes. It was George. Her hands trembled as she answered.
“What… what’s the police saying?” she stammered, her voice breaking.
“I found her,” George said, his voice steady.
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Mary froze. “You… you found her?” she whispered, hardly believing it.
“Yes, we’re at the park. Come here now,” George replied.
Mary leaped up and sprinted to the park, her heart pounding. When she spotted George and Missy sitting on a bench, relief flooded over her. She ran toward them, dropping to her knees as she wrapped her arms around Missy. Tears spilled down her face, soaking Missy’s hair.
“Sweetie, what happened?” Mary asked, holding Missy close.
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Missy looked up, her eyes wide. “Dad said we’d go for a walk later. I got tired at school, so I came to the park,” she said, her voice small.
Mary turned to George, shooting him a furious glance. He shifted his gaze to the ground, guilt written all over his face.
“Sweetheart, you can’t just leave school like that,” Mary said, her voice trembling. “We were so scared. We didn’t know where you were.”
Missy frowned. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” she said. “I just wanted to walk with Dad.”
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Mary sighed, feeling the weight of her daughter’s words. She squeezed Missy’s hand. “All right, let’s go home,” she whispered.
On the drive home, the car was quiet. Missy had fallen asleep in the backseat, her head resting against the window. Mary gripped the steering wheel, her mind racing.
She wanted to scream at George, to shout about how careless he’d been, how he’d ignored their child for so long. But before she could open her mouth, George broke the silence.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low.
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Mary glanced at him, her eyes hard. “Sorry isn’t enough,” she replied, her tone sharp. “Our daughter could have been hurt today. Do you get that?”
George nodded, looking down at his hands. “I know,” he admitted. “I haven’t been the best father.”
Mary shook her head, anger bubbling up again. “It took her going missing for you to realize that? Really?”
George took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to her. Confused, Mary glanced down. It was a cruise ticket.
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“What’s this?” she asked, still angry but now curious.
“You deserve a break,” George said, his voice steady. “After you left this morning, I saw the burnt eggs, the cereal, the pancakes. You made three breakfasts in one morning. And that’s only a small part of what you do every day. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before or appreciate you.”
Mary looked at the ticket, then back at George. “And who’s going to look after Missy?” she questioned.
“I will,” he answered, meeting her eyes. “I’m her father. It’s time I started acting like one.”
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Mary pulled into the driveway and parked. She turned to George, her eyes softening. Slowly, she leaned over and hugged him, letting the tears flow.
“I’ll do better,” George promised, holding her tight. Mary nodded, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. Finally, he understood.
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At 58, I rediscovered love, but his ex-wife was determined to destroy our joy
At 58, I thought love had passed me by until I met Oliver. Just as our happiness began to bloom, his ex-wife stormed back into his life, determined to tear us apart. What followed was a battle for peace and the strength to overcome the shadows of the past. Could love conquer all?
“Another quiet morning,” I whispered to myself, gazing out the window at the ocean. The waves rolled in gently, and the breeze carried that familiar, salty scent.
It had been years since my divorce, and I had gotten used to the solitude.
“I don’t need anyone,” I would often remind myself, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard.
My novels had taken off once I fully committed to writing. The quiet house, with only the sound of seagulls and the ocean, gave me the peace I thought I needed.
But every so often, I’d find myself staring out at the horizon, thinking.
Is this really enough?
It wasn’t until Oliver showed up that I realized the answer might be no.
One morning, as I sipped my coffee on the porch, I noticed him for the first time. A tall, charming man, maybe a few years younger than me, strolling along the beach with his golden retriever. I watched as they passed by my house.
“Morning,” he called out, tipping his head with a friendly smile.
“Good morning,” I replied, feeling a little shy.
Each day after that, I found myself looking out for him. I would watch as he walked along the beach, sometimes playing with his dog, sometimes just staring out at the sea. And each time, my heart would skip a beat.
“Why am I so nervous?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. “It’s just a neighbor. Calm down.”
But I couldn’t. And my feelings grew stronger every time I saw him. Still, I hesitated.
Can I really open up to someone again?
One afternoon, while I was trimming my roses, I heard a rustling sound and a loud thud behind me.
Startled, I turned to see a golden blur darting into my garden.
“Charlie! Get back here!” I heard Oliver call, and seconds later, he appeared, breathless and apologetic.
“I’m so sorry! He just got away from me.”
I laughed, bending down to pet the dog.
“It’s alright, really. He’s cute.”
“He’s a handful, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”
“Do you… enjoy reading?” I asked, my voice tentative, hoping to keep the conversation alive.
Oliver chuckled. “I’m a writer. It kind of comes with the territory.”
“Really?” My eyes lit up. “I’m a novelist too.”
We talked about our favorite books, about writing, and soon enough, the conversation flowed easily.
“You know,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t usually do this, but… would you like to have dinner sometime?”
Oliver raised an eyebrow, surprised but pleased.
“I’d love to.”
Just like that, the plan was set.
The next evening was perfect. We laughed and shared stories. Maybe this is what I’ve been missing all along. But just as I started to relax, a woman appeared at our table. Her eyes were hard, and she looked straight at Oliver.
“We need to talk. Now,” she demanded, completely ignoring me.
“Excuse me, we’re in the middle of…” I started.
“Not now,” she snapped, her eyes never even glancing in my direction. It was as if I didn’t exist.
I felt my face flush, my words stuck in my throat. Oliver looked flustered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“I’m sorry, Haley,” he muttered, standing up awkwardly. “I have to go.”
I watched, speechless, as he followed her out, leaving me sitting there, feeling invisible. The chatter of the restaurant buzzed around me, but I was numb, frozen in place.
The empty chair across from me seemed like a reflection of how abandoned I felt.
Two days had passed since that awkward dinner, and Oliver still hadn’t called. The silence weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. I felt hurt, confused, and, honestly, a little humiliated.
My mind kept replaying the scene, the way he left without a proper explanation, the way that woman had dismissed me as if I didn’t matter.
I sat at my desk, trying to focus on my writing, but it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to that night.
Had I made a mistake inviting him? Was he just playing with me? Who was that woman? And why did he leave with her without even a real explanation?
I was about to give up and close my laptop when I heard a knock at the door. My heart raced as I stood up, part of me hoping, and part of me dreading what might come next.
When I opened the door, Oliver was standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hand.
I stared at him, unsure of what to say.
“I’m sorry, Haley,” he began.
“That woman from the other night—she’s my ex-wife, Rebecca. She shows up like that sometimes, trying to stir things up and ruin my relationships. I didn’t want to make a scene in front of you, so I had to leave with her.”
I tried to mask my emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me that then?”
“I panicked. I should have explained. I’m sorry.”
He paused, offering the flowers.
“I want to make it up to you. I have a literary event coming up. Will you come? It’ll be quieter, and maybe we can spend some time together.”
I hesitated a bit but then nodded.I had dressed carefully, hoping for a peaceful evening, a chance to talk to Oliver without interruptions. Maybe, tonight will be different.
Oliver greeted me with a warm smile. “I’m glad you came.”
I smiled back, trying to push aside the unease I still felt.
The evening started well. Oliver’s presentation was engaging. For a while, I forgot about everything that had happened.
But just as I began to feel at ease, the mood in the room shifted.
I saw the same woman from that night at the restaurant. Rebecca. She strode in with a determined look on her face, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Oliver. My stomach dropped.
Without hesitation, she marched over to where Oliver and I stood, her voice sharp and loud enough to silence the conversations around us.
“You really thought you could just move on, didn’t you, Oliver?” she spat, glaring at him.
The room grew quiet, and all eyes were on us.
“Rebecca, this isn’t the time or place.”
Oliver took a step toward her, trying to calm her down, but it only made things worse.
“Time or place? How dare you?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a liar and a cheat! You think you can just forget about everything we had? You think you can walk away from me?”
People began to whisper, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama.
Rebecca’s eyes turned to me then.
“And you,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “you’re just another one of his mistakes.”
Before I could even respond, she grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby table and threw it in my face. The cold liquid soaked my hair and dress.
Gasps filled the room. For a second, I just stood there, too humiliated to move. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and all I wanted to do was disappear.
Security rushed in and quickly escorted Rebecca out, but the damage was already done.
I felt small and exposed. The warmth I had felt earlier was gone, replaced by a crushing sense of shame. I wiped my face and looked at Oliver, who stood there, silent and torn.
“What is going on, Oliver? Why is she doing this? And what aren’t you telling me?”
Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I… I haven’t told you everything,” he admitted, his eyes full of regret.
“Rebecca and I have been separated for a while, but during that time, I had an affair. It was a mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Then Rebecca came back into my life and took control. She managed everything. My finances. My schedule. She used my guilt to keep me trapped.”
I felt a heavy weight settle over me and realized how deep that mess went.
“I’ve been trying to leave her for good, but she refuses to let go,” he continued. “I didn’t want to drag you into all of this.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Oliver,” I whispered. “I’m not ready for this kind of drama in my life.”
Without waiting for his response, I turned and walked out, the cool evening air hitting my face as I stepped outside.Several days had passed since the disastrous evening at the literary event, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Oliver. Despite everything that had happened, I missed him.
I tried to push the feelings away, to convince myself that walking out had been the right choice, but the ache of missing him wouldn’t fade.
One afternoon, as I sat by the window, a flicker of movement caught my eye. It was at Oliver’s house. I watched as Rebecca hurried back and forth, swiftly loading boxes into a car.
Is he moving out? Why is she here?
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I had to tell him that he needed to be stronger, to stand up for himself, and to stop letting people like Rebecca control his life.
Summoning my courage, I stepped outside and made my way toward his house.
But as I approached, something felt different. Oliver’s car pulled up, and when he stepped out, there was a calm, resolute look on his face—one I hadn’t seen before. I hesitated, keeping my distance, watching as he walked straight to Rebecca.
“It’s over, Rebecca,” I heard him say. “Take the money, take the house—whatever you want. But you will not interfere in my life anymore.”
Rebecca froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he said, his voice unwavering. “If you don’t respect that, I’ll file a restraining order. This ends today.”
I stood there, shocked. That was a side of Oliver I had never seen.
At that moment, I knew. He had finally taken control of his life, and that was exactly what I needed to see.
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