Georgia was at the beach with her grandkids when they suddenly pointed toward a nearby café. Her heart skipped a beat as they shouted the words that would shatter her world. The couple in the café looked exactly like their parents who had died two years ago.
Grief changes you in ways you never expect. Some days, it’s a dull ache in your chest. Other days, it blindsides you like a sucker punch to the heart.
A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney
That summer morning in my kitchen, staring at an anonymous letter, I felt something entirely different. I think it was hope mixed with a little bit of terror.
My hands trembled as I read those five words again, “They’re not really gone.”
The crisp white paper felt like it was burning my fingers. I thought I’d been managing my grief, trying to create a stable life for my grandkids, Andy and Peter, after losing my daughter, Monica, and her husband, Stephen. But this note made me realize how wrong I was.
Two brothers playing with toys | Source: Pexels
They got into an accident two years ago. I still remember how Andy and Peter kept asking me where their parents were and when they’d return.
It took me so many months to make them understand their mom and dad would never return. It broke my heart as I told them they’d have to manage things on their own now, and that I’d be there for them whenever they needed their parents.
After all the hard work I’d put in, I received this anonymous letter that claimed Monica and Stephan were still alive.
An envelope | Source: Pexels
“They’re… not really gone?” I whispered to myself, sinking into my kitchen chair. “What kind of sick game is this?”
I had crumpled the paper and was about to throw it away when my phone buzzed.
It was my credit card company, alerting me to a charge on Monica’s old card. The one I’d kept active just to hold onto a piece of her.
“How is that even possible?” I whispered. “I’ve had this card for two years. How can someone use it when it’s been sitting in the drawer?”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I immediately called the bank’s customer support helpline.
“Hello, this is Billy speaking. How may I help you?” the customer service representative answered.
“Hi. I, uh, wanted to verify this recent transaction on my daughter’s card,” I said.
“Of course. May I have the first six and last four digits of the card number and your relationship to the account holder?” Billy asked.
I gave him the details, explaining, “I’m her mother. She… passed away two years ago, and I’ve been managing her remaining accounts.”
An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
There was a pause on the line, and then Billy spoke carefully. “I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am. I don’t see a transaction on this card. The one you’re talking about has been made using a virtual card linked to the account.”
“A virtual card?” I asked, frowning. “But I never linked one to this account. How can a virtual card be active when I have the physical card here?”
“Virtual cards are separate from the physical card, so they can continue to function independently unless deactivated. Would you like me to cancel the virtual card for you?” Billy asked gently.
A customer care representative | Source: Pexels
“No, no,” I managed to speak. I didn’t want to cancel the card thinking Monica must’ve activated it when she was alive. “Please leave it active. Could you tell me when the virtual card was created?”
There was a pause as he checked. “It was activated a week before the date you mentioned your daughter passed.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “Thank you, Billy. That’ll be all for now.”
Then, I called my closest friend Ella. I told her about the strange letter and the transaction on Monica’s card.
An older woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
“That’s impossible,” Ella gasped. “Could it be a mistake?”
“It’s like someone wants me to believe Monica and Stephan are out there somewhere, just hiding. But why would they… why would anyone do that?”
The charge wasn’t large. It was just $23.50 at a local coffee shop. Part of me wanted to visit the shop and find out more about the transaction, but part of me was afraid I’d find out something I wasn’t supposed to know.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I thought I’d look into this matter on the weekend, but what happened on Saturday turned my world upside down.
Andy and Peter wanted to go to the beach on Saturday, so I took them there. Ella had agreed to meet us there to help me look after the kids.
The ocean breeze carried the salt spray as the children splashed in the shallow waves, their laughter echoing across the sand. It was the first time in ages I’d heard them so carefree.
A kid standing near a sand castle | Source: Pexels
Ella lounged on her beach towel beside me, both of us watching the kids play.
I was showing her the anonymous letter when I heard Andy shout.
“Grandma, look!” he grabbed Peter’s hand, pointing toward the beachfront café. “That’s our mom and dad!”
My heart stopped. There, barely thirty feet away, sat a woman with Monica’s dyed hair and graceful posture, leaning toward a man who could easily ihave been Stephan’s twin.
They were sharing a plate of fresh fruit.
A plate of sliced fruits | Source: Pexels
“Please, watch them for a bit,” I said to Ella, urgency making my voice crack. She agreed without question, though concern filled her eyes.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I told the boys. “You can sunbathe here. Stay close to Ella, okay?”
The kids nodded and I turned toward the couple in the café.
My heart skipped a beat as they stood and walked down a narrow path lined with sea oats and wild roses. My feet moved of their own accord, following at a distance.
An older woman’s shoes | Source: Midjourney
They walked close together, whispering, and occasionally laughing. The woman tucked her hair behind her ear exactly like Monica always had. The man had Stephan’s slight limp from his college football injury.
Then I heard them talk.
“It’s risky, but we had no choice, Emily,” the man said.
Emily? I thought. Why is he calling her Emily?
They turned down a shell-lined path toward a cottage covered in flowering grapevines.
“I know,” the woman sighed. “But I miss them… especially the boys.”
A woman standing outdoors | Source: Pexels
I gripped the wooden fence surrounding the cottage, my knuckles white.
It is you, I thought. But why… why would you do this?
Once they went inside the cottage, I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. The dispatcher listened patiently as I explained the impossible situation.
I stayed by the fence and listened for more proof. I couldn’t believe what was happening.
Finally, gathering every ounce of courage I possessed, I approached the cottage door and rang the doorbell.
For a moment, there was silence, then footsteps approached.
A doorknob | Source: Pexels
The door swung open, and there stood my daughter. Her face drained of color as she recognized me.
“Mom?” she gasped. “What… how did you find us?”
Before I could respond, Stephan appeared behind her. Then, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air.
“How could you?” My voice trembled with rage and grief. “How could you leave your own children behind? Do you have any idea what you put us through?”
The police cars pulled up, and two officers approached quickly but cautiously.
A police car | Source: Pexels
“I think we’ll need to ask some questions,” one said, looking between us. “This… this is not something we see every day.”
Monica and Stephan, who had changed their names to Emily and Anthony, spilled out their story in bits and pieces.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Monica said, her voice wavering. “We were… we were drowning, you know? The debts, the loan sharks… they kept coming, demanding more. We tried everything, but it just got worse.”
A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney
Stephan sighed. “They didn’t just want money. They were threatening us, and we didn’t want to drag the kids into the mess we created.”
Monica continued, tears trickling down her cheeks. “We thought if we left, we’d be giving the kids a better, more stable life. We thought they’d be better off without us. Leaving them behind was the hardest thing we ever did.”
They confessed that they had staged the accident to look like they’d fallen off a cliff into the river, hoping the police would soon stop searching and they’d be presumed dead.
A man standing in a house | Source: Midjourney
They explained how they moved to another town to start fresh and had even changed their names.
“But I couldn’t stop thinking about my babies,” Monica admitted. “I needed to see them, so we rented this cottage for a week, just to be close to them.”
My heart broke as I listened to their story, but anger simmered beneath my sympathy. I couldn’t help but believe there had to be a better way to deal with the loan sharks.
An older woman | Source: Midjourney
Once they confessed everything, I texted Ella our location, and soon her car pulled up with Andy and Peter. The children burst out, and their faces lit up with joy as they recognized their parents.
“Mom! Dad!” they shouted, running toward their parents. “You’re here! We knew you’d come back!”
Monica looked at them and tears welled up in her eyes. She was meeting her kids after two years.
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, my sweet boys… I missed you so much. I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging them.
I watched the scene unfold, whispering to myself, “But at what cost, Monica? What have you done?”
The police allowed the brief reunion before pulling Monica and Stephen aside. The senior officer turned to me with sympathy in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but they could face some serious charges here. They’ve broken a lot of laws.”
“And my grandchildren?” I asked, watching Andy and Peter’s confused faces as their parents were separated from them again. “How do I explain any of this to them? They’re just kids.”
A worried older woman | Source: Midjourney
“That’s something you’ll have to decide,” he said gently. “But the truth is bound to come out eventually.”
Later that night, after tucking the children into bed, I sat alone in my living room. The anonymous letter lay on the coffee table before me, its message now holding a different kind of weight.
I picked it up, reading those five words one more time, “They’re not really gone.”
I still didn’t know who had sent it, but they were right.
A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
Monica and Stephan weren’t gone. They’d chosen to leave. And somehow, that felt worse than knowing they weren’t alive.
“I don’t know if I can protect the kids from the sadness,” I whispered to the quiet room, “but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”
Now, I sometimes feel I shouldn’t have called the cops. Part of me thinks I could’ve let my daughter live the life she wanted, but part of me wanted her to realize what she did was wrong.
Do you think I did the right thing by calling the cops? What would you have done if you were in my place?
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: While Claire is dropping her kids off at summer camp, she gets a devastating phone call. Her 67-year-old mother, an Alzheimer’s patient, is missing. After three days of looking for Edith, police officers bring her home, and only then does the old woman reveal a horrible truth about Claire’s husband.
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.
After Wife’s Demise, Widower Finds Out They’ve Been Divorced for More than 20 Years – Story of the Day
Wealthy investor Robert, dealing with the aftermath of his wife’s death, stumbles upon a secret divorce agreement and another startling revelation, leading him on a transformative journey toward forgiveness.
Robert sat on his couch, staring blankly at the divorce decree. He was in his up-market beach house, surrounded by memories of Melissa, his wife of 30 years.
Her death had been a blow, but finding this document in her belongings was bewildering. He had no memory of ever divorcing her.
He reflected on the accident he’d had years ago, which caused head trauma and a six-month memory gap for him. Reading the document, he realized that it was during that time he had apparently initiated the divorce. “July twenty years ago,” he muttered, noting the date on the document.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
His life back then was a whirl of socializing with artists and actors, fueled by excessive drinking. Despite the temptations, he remained faithful to Melissa, although his drinking issue strained their marriage.
He eventually picked up the phone and dialed the law firm’s number on the letterhead, only to find they had moved. The receptionist at the other end suggested he Google the new number.
Robert returned to the document and was stunned that Melissa was entitled to half his considerable wealth in the divorce. He had been wealthy even then, with a fortune inherited from his father.
Robert had dabbled as a stockbroker, but for the most part, he paid others to manage and grow his wealth while he lived an easy and high life in New York City.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Not that he’d been irresponsible; he spent his money well and donated large sums to charitable organizations—he left that side of his dealings to his wife to manage, which she did well.
He returned to Melissa’s box of documents and discovered more surprises. Among them was a birth certificate for a child named Tallulah, born three years before their marriage. The child’s last name matched Melissa’s maiden name.
Robert’s heart raced. He had always sensed Melissa had a secret, but this was beyond anything he had imagined. A child he never knew about.
He pondered the situation, troubled. Melissa had fought cancer bravely, but it had spread rapidly, taking her life. Robert, still grieving, now grappled with this new revelation.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
He decided to discuss it with his twins, Pete and Sandra. They were close to their mother, especially during her illness, and had returned home for her funeral.
As he sat them down, he explained his discovery. The twins were shocked, unable to comprehend their mother’s secret.
“Why didn’t she tell us?” Sandra asked, visibly upset.
“I don’t know. Maybe she thought it’d hurt us,” Robert replied. “I’m also trying to understand why there’s a divorce document. I don’t recall any of it… due to the accident.”
While scrutinizing the divorce paper, Pete suggested, “You should look up the lawyer listed here on LinkedIn.”
Robert agreed, but they decided to focus on the funeral first.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
***
In the quiet aftermath of the funeral, Robert summoned the courage to confront the situation. It didn’t take long for him to trace the lawyer who had officiated the divorce; he was with another firm in New York.
The call brought more surprises; Franklin recognized Robert instantly and expressed concern about his well-being.
“Well, yeah, I’m fine,” Robert said, flummoxed that Franklin seemed to know who he was. “So, you know me?”
“Of course I do. It was a chaotic time, what with your accident. How’s Melissa?”
“Melissa passed away about a week ago.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. How can I help?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Uh, I found some documents that I’m quite concerned about. A divorce decree and a birth certificate for a child.”
There was complete silence on the other end of the line. “I handled the divorce, Robert. It was an open-and-shut case. You don’t remember it?”
“I don’t. Melissa and I were happily married for thirty years.”
“You never left her?”
“I never left her, Franklin. Do you have records of the divorce and Melissa’s will?”
“We have everything on file. How about coming to New York to figure this out? It’s serious.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Robert agreed and flew to New York. In Franklin’s office, they discussed Robert’s past and Melissa’s recent will change.
“Do you remember anything about the accident, the fall?”
“No, just what Melissa told me. I fell from the balcony during an argument about my drinking.”
“Did Melissa tell you anything else about that night?”
“You mean later on when I recovered? No, we didn’t speak about it much,” Robert replied. “She moved us to California. She found the best head trauma specialist in the country out there to help with my recovery. I was in good hands.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“So, you never saw any media coverage at the time?” Franklin asked.
“Melissa thought it best I stay away from that completely. She wanted a fresh start away from that life. I agreed. I think it was the best thing to do.”
“Robert, this might be hard to hear. Were you aware of the life insurance policy in Melissa’s name?”
“I’d forgotten about that. We bought it soon after we were married,” Robert mused. “She would’ve been the sole beneficiary at the time of the accident. Hang on, are you saying—”
“I’m not saying anything, Rob, please. The media speculated Melissa had something to do with your fall,” Franklin revealed. “But well, you survived, and she never cashed the policy. By the way, she changed her will at the time of your accident.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Does the name of the beneficiary mean anything to you?” Franklin asked, sliding a sheaf of papers across to Robert.
“Tallulah J—,” he said. “Yes. Remember the birth certificate I said I found in Melissa’s personal effects? Same name.”
Robert reached into the leather shoulder bag he’d brought, found the birth certificate, and handed it over to the lawyer.
“The plot thickens,” Franklin said, looking the document over. “Along with the will, there’s a sealed letter from Melissa addressed to you with instructions to be read only in the event of her death. Are you ready for it?”
Robert nodded. “Let me see it,” he said.
Franklin handed over the envelope. “I’m going to visit the bathroom,” he said. “Please take your time.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Robert opened the letter and read:
“My Dearest Robert,
I’m sorry for keeping such a big secret. When I fell pregnant with Tallulah, I was scared. I thought you’d leave me, so I kept it a secret until your private investigator found out.
I had Tallulah adopted, and I never told anyone else about her. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I’ve missed her every day. And yes, no matter what anyone says about that night, I had nothing to do with the fall. It was an accident.
I’m so sorry for everything. I hope you can at least try to understand.
Love,
Mel”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“In her will, Franklin, she left her entire estate to Tallulah?” Robert asked as the lawyer returned.
Franklin nodded. “She tied all the assets up in a trust account that pays out to her daughter in the event of Melissa’s death.”
“That money is mine,” Robert declared. “Can we challenge the will in court? Can the divorce be rescinded?”
Franklin explained the challenges but agreed. “I think we can make a case.”
“How much money are we talking about here?” Robert inquired.
“You mean, how much will it cost to contest the will and annul the divorce?” Franklin clarified.
“No, how much money was my wife worth when she died?” Robert asked.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Nearly half a billion dollars,” Franklin revealed.
“And it all goes to her daughter Tallulah now?”
“That’s right,” Franklin confirmed. “Unless we sue the estate for what she did to you, hiding all this.”
“In that folder you have there, are there any contact details for Tallulah?” Robert asked.
“There’s a last known address. Looks like a business address.”
“Write down that address for me, please, Frank,” Robert said.
Franklin provided an address in Los Angeles. Determined, Robert visited the given location, a rundown studio, and encountered a gruff man.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“I’m looking for a woman,” Robert began.
The man scoffed. “Join the club. Aren’t we all?”
“She’s around 33. This is the address given as her workplace,” Robert said, ignoring the man’s joke.
“Let’s see, that could be any one of, I dunno, a hundred women in the last year alone. I can’t help you, brah. Best you shove off. Are you a lawyer or somethin’?”
“No, this is a personal matter. I’m looking for my wife’s daughter.”
“Another one looking for a long-lost daughter,” the man mocked.
“What do you do here?” Robert asked. “Is this an adult film studio?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Got that right, genius. Now are you going to piss off, or do I have to throw you out?”
“There’s no need for that. I’m here to give this woman some news about her mother; she died,” Robert said. “Her name is Tallulah.”
Robert offered him a $1000 reward if he told her about Tallulah. The man agreed after seeing the money.
“Her stage name is Tulip Jones, or sometimes, she goes by TJ. Try Melrose Productions a couple of blocks over,” the man disclosed. “And don’t tell her I told you where to find her. She’s not exactly in our good books around here. Ran out on us a year ago.”
Robert gave him the money and left.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Despite a somewhat warm reception at Melrose Productions, Robert was directed to contact her through a provided cell phone number. He wasn’t sure if she’d answer his calls, so he left her a message. Finally, they spoke over text and agreed to meet.
As they sat across from each other, Robert divulged the truth about Melissa, the inheritance, and his desire to guide Tallulah through managing the substantial sum.
“Why should I trust you to handle my money?”
“I’ve made it my business to manage money; believe me, it’s not as easy as you think,” Robert assured her.
Their conversation shifted to personal matters. Tallulah revealed her disdain for the adult film industry and her desire to escape it. She’d been forced into it by her foster mother.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Trust me, from this day on, you don’t have to do it ever again. I can promise you that,” Robert assured her, handing her his business card.
She looked up at him with a hint of surprise and hope after she’d skimmed the details on the card. “You’re a producer?” she asked.
“Executive producer,” Robert said. “I can show you how to get into it if you like. You’ll be in a good place with your inheritance money as long as you don’t gamble it all on one film. It’s a tough business.”
“I could go for that,” Tallulah said thoughtfully. “The proper film business, I mean. Not gambling.”
“How about meeting my kids, too? Twins: a boy and a girl. Twenty-two. Good kids. One’s at film school, and one’s studying business. Good combination.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Tallulah agreed, and a few days later, she finally met Sandra and Pete at Robert’s Santa Monica office. As small talk flowed, Robert proposed a trip to New York to handle Tallulah’s inheritance.
With plans unfolding, Tallulah hesitantly shared her desire to use part of the inheritance to establish an organization to help women leave the adult film industry. And they all decided to name it after Melissa.
“I’d be happy to draw up a business plan,” Pete offered.
Under Robert’s guidance, the organization named Melissa’s Hope thrived. Tallulah became an advocate for trafficked women and children. The siblings bonded, creating a close-knit family.
Robert remained grateful for everything he had been given in life. He took every opportunity to give to others and help them as best he could. And above all, he remained grateful for the lesson in love his late wife had given him.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
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