
Months after her husband Albert died, Vivienne started receiving her favorite flowers every week. None of her children or grandchildren had sent them, so they set up a surveillance camera to find out who did. But the truth changed their entire family.
Albert and Vivienne Harrison lived in Indianapolis, Indiana for most of their 55-year marriage. Albert died from natural causes at 86 years old, and she was heartbroken. But luckily, she had a big family to keep her company.
The couple had three children, six grandchildren, and their first great-grandchild was born a few months before Albert died. Vivienne knew they had lived a long, peaceful life filled with love, so her heart was at ease despite how much she missed Albert.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But a few months after his death, she returned home from Sunday mass to see a bouquet of her favorite flowers on her doorstep. “Oh, aren’t these the most exquisite roses!” Vivienne said to herself after picking them up.
She called her daughter, Miriam, who told her she didn’t send them. Vivienne rang both her sons too, but neither Andrew nor Blake sent them either. They all promised to ask their children to see if any of them had.
But after a few phone calls, no one in the family could figure out who did it. “I’m sorry, Mom. None of my kids did. But Gina said that she once saw a movie where an old man instructed a flower shop to send flowers to his wife after his death,” Miriam said.
“Do you think your father did that?” Vivienne wondered.
“I don’t know, but I remember that Dad always got you flowers from the same shop. It couldn’t hurt to ask them,” Miriam suggested. So Vivienne called their go-to flower shop, but they didn’t have such an order from Albert.
She called Miriam again, but her daughter Gina had no other ideas. “Well, Mom. Maybe some kind stranger sent a random bouquet. Just enjoy them.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Vivienne put the matter off her mind for the rest of the week and continued with her life. However, another bouquet was waiting at her doorstep when she returned from mass the following Sunday.
“It’s weird, Miriam. What if it’s a creep or one of those stalkers I’ve read about?” she hesitated.
“Stop watching crime documentaries, Mom. It’s none of that. Just enjoy the flowers,” Miriam said, exasperated. She didn’t think her mother should be worried about flowers. But the bouquets kept coming every Sunday, and Vivienne needed to know what was happening.
“Ok, Grandma. I bought you this camera for your front door. It records who comes to your doorstep and such,” explained Hanna, Miriam’s other daughter, when she came over to visit her grandmother. She installed the camera herself, and they waited to see what happened.
That Sunday, they saw a strange man with a bouquet. He left them on her porch and then fled. “That’s weird, Grandma. It’s a young man,” Hanna said when she browsed through the footage.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“See? It’s weird. I told your mother this whole thing was odd, but she doesn’t think it’s a big deal,” Vivienne replied.
“I think he might just be a delivery man. I don’t think he’s the one sending the flowers, although he’s not wearing a uniform,” Hanna observed. “Let’s wait to see if he comes around again.”
He did. The man came over every Sunday at the same time to deliver the flowers. Finally, Vivienne had enough and decided not to attend church to catch him. This time, Hanna and Andrew’s son, Jake, stayed with her just in case.
They were watching the live footage of the camera when the man showed up. Jake rushed to the door, opened it, and the man bolted. But Jake ran to catch him while Hanna stayed behind with Vivienne.
Jake caught him before the man could escape and brought him back to his grandmother’s house. “Who are you, young man? Why have you been delivering flowers here every week?” Vivienne asked sternly.
“Mrs. Harrison, this is hard to explain. My name is Michael, and your husband was my grandfather,” the man began.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“What? Are you crazy, man? We know all our cousins. There’s no way,” Jake warned angrily.
“I know it’s hard to take. From what I know, Grandpa Albert had an affair right before getting married. My grandmother didn’t know she was pregnant until months later. Then she raised my mother alone. But I reached out to Grandpa a few years ago,” Michael stated.
“We formed a nice bond. He told me about your family and wanted to introduce me to you guys. But the timing was never right. The last time I spoke to him, he said that if he passed, he hoped I would buy you flowers, as his apology for not telling you the truth sooner.”
“I can’t believe this,” Hanna whispered. Jake shook his head. But Vivienne knew that the boy was telling the truth. He looked just like Albert did when they got married.
“You are the spitting image of my late husband. Do you think I could meet your grandmother?” Vivienne asked. She had a few questions for the woman.
“I’m sorry. My Grandma and Mom died in a car accident when I was 20. That’s why I reached out to Grandpa. I didn’t have any family left,” Michael revealed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oh, my dear. I’m sorry. In that case, I’m glad that you got to meet Albert. He was a family man through and through. This might be a shock to the rest of the family, but they will want to meet you,” Vivienne assured.
The entire family was shocked to learn about Grandpa Albert’s affair, but they welcomed Michael at Vivienne’s insistence. They had a BBQ party where everyone got to meet him. Michael also introduced them to his wife and their toddler.
“Mom, how can you be so calm about this?” Miriam asked her mother at the gathering.
“Oh, honey. Life is so short. If I had discovered this incident years ago, maybe I would’ve been mad. But now, I’m just glad to have more people to love. Also, he followed your father’s wishes to make me happy. That tells you the kind of man he is,” Vivienne shared.
In the end, Michael formed a beautiful bond with most of his cousins, who were all around his age. It took a little longer for his aunt and uncles to accept him, but they did in the end.
But most surprisingly, Michael had a soft spot for Vivienne. He continued to bring her flowers every Sunday, and the older woman invited him for tea every time.
What can we learn from this story?
- It’s easier to see the big picture when you’re older. Her kids and grandkids couldn’t understand at first, but Vivienne knew they would all be happier after accepting Michael.
- Don’t keep secrets. Albert should’ve told his wife about Michael as soon as he found out. But he died before he could say anything.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who heard a stranger say, “Everything is going according to plan,” at her husband’s funeral.
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I Attended My Husband’s Office Party for the First Time, but I Never Expected to See His Other ‘Wife’ There

When Jennifer stumbled upon an email inviting her husband to a glamorous New Year’s party with a plus-one allowed, her curiosity was piqued. But what she uncovered at the event shattered her trust, setting the stage for an unexpected twist of fate.
The laptop pinged, interrupting the movie we were watching. Oliver had just gone to the bathroom, leaving his laptop open on the coffee table.

An open laptop | Source: Pexels
I glanced at the screen, the glowing subject line catching my eye.
“Dear Mr. Oliver,
We are happy to announce the New Year party is coming up! Dress code: White Party. You may bring your plus-one (your wife). Address…”

A shocked woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels
I blinked, rereading the email. His company never allowed plus-ones. Never. I couldn’t count the number of times I had heard him complain about it. Yet, there it was in black and white—plus-one (your wife).
When Oliver came back, I tried to play it cool, though my curiosity was bubbling. “Your office is throwing a New Year’s party?” I asked casually.

An excited woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, picking up his laptop and closing it before I could say more. “Nothing big. Just the usual end-of-year stuff.”
“Can I come?” I asked, tilting my head and smiling.
He froze for half a second before brushing it off. “No, they don’t allow guests. It’s more of a work event.”
I frowned. “But the email said—”

A frowning woman on the couch | Source: Pexels
“They don’t, Jen. Trust me.” His tone was clipped, and he didn’t meet my eyes. “Anyway, I’ll just be working that night. No big deal.”
That was the first time I felt something strange. Oliver always worked late or traveled for business, so I had gotten used to him being away. I trusted him, because that’s what you do in a marriage. But this time, his response felt… off.

A suspicious woman | Source: Pexels
New Year’s Eve arrived, and I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my white dress. Curiosity had gnawed at me for days. Why didn’t he want me at the party? Was he embarrassed? Hiding something?
“Happy New Year, Jen!” he called as he grabbed his coat, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Happy New Year,” I replied, watching him leave.

A man putting on his coat | Source: Midjourney
As soon as the door clicked shut, I grabbed my purse and headed out.
The hotel where the party was held glowed like a jewel in the night. The lobby was decorated with silver streamers, twinkling lights, and elegant floral arrangements. Guests in sparkling white outfits mingled, laughter and conversation filling the air. I felt both nervous and determined as I approached the reception desk.

A woman in a hotel | Source: Midjourney
“Name, please?” the manager asked with a polite smile, glancing up from his clipboard.
“Jennifer. I’m Oliver’s wife,” I said confidently.
His smile faltered for a moment, and he looked down at his list, then back up at me. Then, he laughed. “Nice try!”
“I’m Jennifer,” I repeated. “Oliver’s wife.”

A woman at a reception desk | Source: Midjourney
The manager’s expression turned awkward. “Oh… uh…” He hesitated, then cleared his throat. “I think there’s been some confusion. Oliver already checked in… with his plus-one. His real wife.”
My chest tightened. “What?”
“Yes, he arrived about 30 minutes ago. They always arrive together, I’ve seen them many times.” He winced slightly, as if bracing for my reaction.
“I’m his wife,” I said sharply, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

A hotel manager | Source: Pexels
He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again, his face apologetic. “Let me double-check the guest list.”
Before he could move, I caught a glimpse of Oliver in the far corner of the room. He was easy to spot in his crisp white suit. My breath caught when I saw him with her—a woman with long dark hair, her arm resting on his shoulder. They were laughing, leaning in close, their body language unmistakably intimate.

A couple at a party | Source: Pexels
The world seemed to spin. The glitzy decorations blurred as my mind raced.
“Ma’am?” the manager asked gently, breaking into my thoughts.
I turned back to him, my voice suddenly calm. “No need to check. I see him.”
He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something, but I was already walking away from the desk, away from the party, and away from Oliver.

A woman leaving a hotel | Source: Midjourney
Outside, the cold air stung my face, but it didn’t dull the fire burning inside me. I wrapped my coat tighter around me, my heels clicking on the sidewalk as I made my way to my car.
I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, but I knew one thing: Oliver was going to regret this.

A sad woman walking on the street | Source: Midjourney
The next day, the phone rang just as I was pouring my morning coffee. I almost didn’t answer, still angry about last night, but something made me pick up.
“Is this Mr. Oliver’s wife?” a calm, professional voice asked.
“Yes,” I replied, my stomach twisting.

A serious woman walking on her phone | Source: Pexels
“This is Mercy Hospital. Your husband was in a car accident early this morning. He’s stable, but we need you to come in right away.”
My breath caught. “A car accident? Is he… is he okay?”
“He has a concussion and a broken arm. There are complications we’ll explain when you arrive.”

A hospital professional talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
I didn’t say another word. I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door, my anger from the night before swirling with worry.
At the hospital, the antiseptic smell hit me as I walked into the waiting area. Nurses bustled by, their faces neutral, while I stood there, my heart racing.
“Jennifer?” a doctor called, walking toward me. He was middle-aged, with a kind but serious expression.

A medical professional | Source: Pexels
“Yes. Is Oliver okay?”
“He’s stable for now, but there’s an issue we need to address,” he explained, motioning for me to sit. “His arm is fractured in several places. There’s a risk of long-term damage unless we operate soon. Unfortunately, there’s a problem with his insurance. His policy lapsed last month. As his wife, you can authorize the procedure and arrange payment.”

A woman talking to a doctor | Source: Midjourney
I blinked, trying to process his words. “His insurance… lapsed? Why didn’t he renew it?”
The doctor shook his head. “I can’t speak to that, but we do need to act quickly. Will you authorize the surgery?”
When I stepped into Oliver’s room, the sight of him startled me. His face was pale, a bandage wrapped around his head. His arm was in a sling, and he looked more fragile than I’d ever seen him.

A man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik
“Jen,” he croaked when he saw me, his voice weak.
“Oliver,” I said stiffly, standing by the door.
His eyes searched mine, pleading. “I know you’re upset, but please… just listen. It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, it’s exactly what I think,” I said, my voice icy. “You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me. And last night, I saw you with her. You brought her to that party, didn’t you?”

An angry woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
His face went pale. “I can explain—”
“I don’t want your explanations,” I snapped, cutting him off. “The doctor says you need surgery, but your insurance lapsed. That sounds like a problem for your real wife to handle.”
“Jen, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I made a mistake. Please, just sign the papers.”

A sad man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik
I stared at him for a long moment, my heart pounding. Part of me wanted to scream, to cry, to give in and help him. But then I thought of all the times I had trusted him, only to find out it was all a lie.
“No, Oliver,” I said, my voice firm. “You’ve made your choices. Now you can live with them.”
I turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

A woman leaving a hospital room | Source: Midjourney
In the hallway, my steps felt lighter, as if a weight had lifted off my chest. For the first time in years, I realized I wasn’t responsible for cleaning up his messes.
It was over. Whatever happened next was up to him.
A few days later, I received a call from the hospital. It wasn’t the doctor. It was Oliver.
“Jen, please,” he begged. His voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. “She didn’t come. I’m alone here. I need you.”

A man talking on his phone in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
I said nothing, gripping the phone tightly as his words sank in. The “real wife” wasn’t so real after all. She hadn’t shown up, not for the surgery, not for anything. She’d disappeared the moment she realized he wasn’t the man he pretended to be.
“Jen?” he whispered.
“You made your choice, Oliver,” I said, my tone steady. “Now you can deal with the consequences.”

A serious woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
I hung up and blocked his number.
In the weeks that followed, I heard through mutual friends that Oliver’s career was falling apart. Word of his affair spread at work. The woman he’d paraded at the party was no longer seen with him, and his charm didn’t seem to fool anyone anymore.
But I didn’t feel sorry for him. I felt free.

A woman smiling with a balloon | Source: Pexels
For the first time in years, I wasn’t carrying the weight of his lies. Instead of worrying about his needs, I focused on myself.
I signed up for a pottery class—a silly dream I’d put off for years. I spent weekends hiking trails I’d always wanted to explore. I started painting again, filling my apartment with canvases splashed with color.
For years, I, Jennifer, had been the dutiful wife. But now, Jen was stepping into her own life.

A happy woman painting | Source: Pexels
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.
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