
I went to check on my boyfriend, worried he was too sick to even text me back. But what I found shattered my trust and sent my world spinning. Days later, the last person I ever expected showed up at my door, and together, we started something that changed my life forever.
One crisp autumn day, I sat alone in my small, cozy apartment, the sunlight streaming weakly through the windows.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The orange and red leaves outside seemed to mock my restlessness as I stared at my phone, waiting for my boyfriend, Jace, to finally show up.
He hadn’t visited in days, claiming he was just tired, but something about his excuses didn’t sit right with me.
I fiddled with the hem of my sweater, tapping my foot anxiously against the hardwood floor. Finally, I gave up and dialed his number. The phone rang a few times before he answered.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Hello?” Jace answered, his voice low and groggy, like he’d just woken up.
“Are you sleeping?” I asked, trying to hide the edge in my voice.
“Yeah,” he said, pausing for a second. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I just fell asleep. I’m not feeling great—might have a fever or something.”
“Oh…” I said softly, not sure what else to say.
He coughed hard into the phone, making me wince. “Look, I’ll text you later,” he muttered, his words rushed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Feel bet—” I started, but the line went dead before I could finish.
Frustration bubbled up as I tapped my fingers on the table, my thoughts racing. If Jace was really sick, I couldn’t just sit there doing nothing. I’d take care of him, whether he liked it or not. That’s what girlfriends do, right?
Grabbing my coat, I headed out into the crisp autumn air, determined. The walk to the store was brisk, the kind that makes your cheeks tingle.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Inside, I picked up fresh fruit, tea, and a box of throat lozenges, imagining how grateful Jace would be when I showed up.
Back at his building, I pressed the elevator button, adjusting the heavy bag on my arm. Usually, I took the stairs, but not today.
The elevator hummed softly as it descended, and I distracted myself by humming along to a tune stuck in my head.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
When the doors slid open, my heart stopped. There he was—Jace—with his arms around a woman I didn’t recognize.
Her face pressed against his chest, and they were so close it made my stomach churn. This wasn’t just a hug. It was something more.
“Looks like you’re feeling better,” I said, my voice louder than I intended, cutting through the quiet hallway.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Jace’s head whipped toward me, his face draining of color. “Kate…” he stammered, his arms falling away from the woman. He stepped toward me, his hand reaching out like that would somehow fix things. “I can explain.”
His mouth opened, but I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Just don’t. If you take one more step or say one more word, I swear I’ll make you regret it.” I hurled the bag of groceries at him, the fruit spilling across the floor.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Without waiting for his reaction, I turned and walked away, my heart pounding with anger and disgust.
He didn’t call after me, didn’t try to stop me, and for that, I was glad. He wasn’t worth it. Not anymore.
A few days had dragged by since I’d caught Jace in the elevator with another woman. He hadn’t bothered to call, text, or even send a pathetic apology.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Not even a simple “I’m sorry, I’m a jerk, and I don’t deserve you.” Was that too much to ask?
It gnawed at me, this unfinished business. I couldn’t move on, couldn’t let go, because it felt like he was still lurking in my life, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
I decided I needed closure, even if it meant facing him. So, I texted him, my fingers trembling with anger. After a few minutes, he replied.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
@Jace:
Let’s meet tonight at 6 p.m., at our café.
Our café. The place where we had our first date. The nerve. Still, I agreed.
At 6 p.m., I sat in the corner booth, the one we always chose. The warm smell of coffee and pastries surrounded me, but it brought no comfort.
Every time the door opened, I glanced up, expecting to see him. But Jace didn’t show.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
By 7 p.m., I was tapping my foot under the table, staring at the cold tea I hadn’t touched. By 8 p.m., I was furious. Finally, my phone buzzed.
@Jace:
I can’t come. I can’t stand seeing you so sad like this.
I stared at the screen, stunned by his cowardice. What did that even mean? He couldn’t stand seeing me?
He was the one who had cheated, yet he was acting like the victim. My anger boiled over.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
When I finally got home, the fury still burned in my chest. I stomped up the stairs, muttering under my breath.
Then, as I turned the corner, I froze. Standing outside my apartment was her. The woman from the elevator. She looked nervous, like she’d been waiting for me.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the hallway. I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to show up.
“I want to talk to you,” she said, her tone calm but uneasy. “I feel like I owe you… more than just a conversation.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I folded my arms tightly, glaring at her. “You’re a few hours late,” I snapped. “I don’t want anything to do with that jerk. You can have him.” Turning away, I fumbled with my keys, determined to shut this conversation down.
“That’s the thing—I don’t want him either,” she said, her voice firmer this time. It stopped me cold. “I finally realized what he’s really like, and I wanted to talk to someone who understands.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I hesitated, my hand still on the doorknob. This was absurd, completely insane. But a part of me was curious.
With a deep sigh, I turned back to her. “Fine. Come in,” I said, pushing the door open and stepping aside.
As she entered, I asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Ashley,” she said softly, her eyes darting to the floor.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Kate,” I said, introducing myself reluctantly.
“I know,” she admitted, guilt written all over her face.
I walked to the kitchen, motioning for her to follow. “Come on,” I said. “I’d offer you tea, but I think this calls for something stronger.” I grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter and set it down.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ashley sat at the table, folding her hands nervously. “You didn’t know about me,” she began. “But I knew you existed. Jace told me he had a girlfriend, but he said you were awful to him. He claimed you ignored him, flirted with other men, made him feel worthless.”
“What the—?! That’s exactly what he did to me!” I burst out, anger flaring.
Ashley nodded slowly. “I see that now, after what happened when you caught us. But back then, I believed him. I thought he was going to leave you and be with me.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Looks like the jerk fooled both of us,” I said bitterly, pouring the wine.
“That’s why I’m here. I don’t want him to get away with it,” she said, her voice steady.
“What are you suggesting?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
Ashley smiled, a sly, mischievous grin. “Revenge,” she said simply. “You know how much of a homophobe Jace is?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her words made me pause, curiosity sparking despite my anger. And that was how it all began.
Ashley and I wasted no time setting our plan into motion. We created several profiles for Jace on popular dating sites, carefully crafting his “interests” and uploading photos we had saved from his social media.
We sent flirty messages to men who seemed eager to connect, pretending to be Jace himself.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m looking for someone special,” we wrote, ending with a winking emoji. We even set up meetups at his apartment, choosing times when we knew he’d be home.
The thought of him opening his door to confused strangers made us laugh until our sides hurt.
On another site, we posted his phone number with the tagline: “Night owl? Call me between 2 and 4 a.m. for some fun.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Though we couldn’t track the exact number of calls, the texts we received from Jace told us everything we needed to know. “Who are these people?” “Why won’t my phone stop ringing?” His desperation fueled us to keep going.
The billboard idea was the final touch. We found ad space in the busiest parts of town and designed a bright, eye-catching poster featuring Jace’s smiling face with the caption: “Looking for a man to support and cherish.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Seeing the first billboard go up was priceless. We high-fived in the car, imagining his face when he spotted it.
Our phones buzzed nonstop with texts and calls from Jace. “You have to stop this,” he wrote. “Please, I’m begging you!”
Eventually, we responded.
@Me:
We can stop, but there’s one condition.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
@Jace:
I’ll do anything. Just stop.
I sent him the amount—enough for a two-week vacation to Spain. When the transfer hit my account, I sent him one last text.
@Me:
Oops, we forgot the passwords to the accounts, and the billboards are prepaid for two months

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
After sending that final text to Jace, Ashley and I blocked his number. There was nothing more to say. The moment felt oddly triumphant, like closing the chapter of a bad book I’d been stuck reading for far too long.
We immediately turned our focus to planning the trip. A few days later, Ashley and I landed in Spain.
The sun was bright, the air warm, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore was the perfect soundtrack to our newfound freedom.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
We found a spot on the beach, stretched out on lounge chairs, and ordered cold sangria.
Ashley turned to me with a grin. “Best team effort ever,” she said, raising her glass of sangria. I smiled, knowing she was right.
I’d lost a terrible boyfriend but gained one hell of a friend. Revenge never tasted so sweet.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When a grouchy old man slams the door on a persistent teen, he thinks he’s rid of her for good. But when a hurricane traps them together, the storm outside reveals the truth about her shocking connection to his past.
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My 7-Year-Old Drew a Picture of My Husband with Another Woman and Wrote, ‘I Can’t Wait for You to Be My Mom’

When Amber, a hardworking mom and corporate attorney, discovers a drawing by her 7-year-old daughter, Mia, her world is shaken. The picture shows Mia’s teacher in Amber’s place with a heartbreaking caption. Suspecting betrayal, Amber confronts her husband, Jack, only to uncover something deeper… Mia’s feelings of abandonment amidst Amber’s busy life.
I didn’t think I’d be here… but this has been life lately.

A woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney
I’m Livia, I’m thirty-four, married to my husband Jack for ten years, and I’m a mom to my bundle of joy, Mia, a seven-year-old little girl. Recently, I’ve been busier than I’ve ever been in my entire life, which is truly saying something because I’m a corporate attorney.
My mom’s health has been declining over the past year, and we’ve been throwing ourselves into her hospital stays, therapy sessions, and medication that costs way more than I care to admit.
To cover everything, I’ve been working insane hours because I’d do anything for my mother.

A woman sitting in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
Anything.
Jack has been the best partner and rock I could have ever asked for. He has stepped up at home in ways I never imagined or expected. Jack has taken on the cooking, cleaning, helping Mia with her schoolwork, and managing all the little things I used to handle.
He made it possible for me to keep everything afloat, even when it felt like I was drowning.

A father and daughter duo sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
But last night, everything changed before I could even catch my breath.
I came home late, exhausted, starving, and ready to collapse. After hurriedly eating a bowl of salmon and rice while Mia took her bath, I put my little girl to bed. As she dozed off, Mia mumbled something about puppets.
“I didn’t know that you could put your hand in a socket and it would be a puppet,” she said.

A green sock puppet | Source: Midjourney
“A sock, my darling,” I said. “Not a socket! Don’t you ever put your hand in a socket, Mia.”
She giggled.
“Okay, Momma,” she said, yawning.

A yawning little girl | Source: Midjourney
I started tidying up her dolls, which were scattered all over the carpet in her room, and then made my way to the coffee table in the living room. Crayons, white paper, and coloring books were scattered all over.
That’s when I found it. A drawing.
At first glance, it seemed innocent enough. A kid’s sketch of a happy family. A man, a woman, and a little girl holding hands. But when I looked closer, my stomach twisted.

A woman gathering crayons | Source: Midjourney
The man was unmistakably Jack. The little girl was clearly Mia. But the woman? Definitely not me.
She had long brown hair and wore a flowing bridal gown. Beneath the drawing, in Mia’s little handwriting, were the words that broke my heart:
I can’t wait for you to be my mom!
It felt like the ground beneath me had given way.

A child’s drawing | Source: Midjourney
I took the picture to Mia’s bed and sat on the edge, trying to wake her up enough to get answers.
“Darling girl, can you tell me about this drawing?” I asked her calmly.
“What drawing, Momma?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
When Mia took a look at the drawing, her face turned red, and she snatched the paper out of my hand, clutching it to her chest.

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney
“You weren’t supposed to find that! Daddy said to hide it better!” she blurted out.
Hide it better? Jack? Hide what better?
My heart started pounding. What was going on? Was Jack cheating? And what was worse… was Mia already imagining this other woman as her mom?

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I barely slept that night. My mind was running miles per hour. I thought about my mother, I thought about the work I still needed to do before heading to the office the next day, and I thought about my marriage…
By the morning, I had gone through a storm of worst-case scenarios. I sat in the kitchen, waiting for Jack to get ready for work. Mia had already left for school.
“What is this?” I demanded, thrusting the drawing into his hands.

An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
His eyes widened, and his face turned pale.
“You told her to hide it?” I asked. “You actually told Mia to hide it?”
“Wait, wait,” he stammered, holding up his hands defensively. “It’s not what you think, Amber. Let me explain it all to you.”

A worried man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“You have exactly five seconds, Jack. I’ve been going crazy the entire night.”
My husband ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed.
“Come with me,” he said.
“What? Where are we going? What about work?” I asked.

A man standing in a kitchen with his head bowed down | Source: Midjourney
“We’re going to Mia’s school. I need to show you something,” he said.
I wanted to scream at him, but something in his voice, an urgency that didn’t feel like guilt, made me agree.
The drive to the school was tense and silent, my mind still racing. What would Jack show me at Mia’s school that would change anything? Was there an imaginary friend or imaginary step-in mother waiting for us?

An upset woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
When we arrived at the school, Jack squeezed my knee. As we walked to the reception area, he squeezed my hand and asked to see Mia’s teacher, Clara.
As soon as Clara walked in, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. She was stunning, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why I hadn’t met her before. She had long brown hair, a bright smile, and an effortlessly bubbly demeanor.
She had to be the woman from Mia’s drawing, it was unmistakable.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
She smiled at Jack, and I wanted to scream.
“Clara,” Jack said. “Can you explain to my wife what’s been happening with Mia?”
Clara’s expression shifted to confusion but then softened as she glanced at me.
“Oh, of course,” she said.

A stressed woman | Source: Midjourney
She gestured for us to sit in the little room adjacent to the reception.
“Look, Mia’s been having a tough time lately,” she began. “She’s mentioned feeling like her mom doesn’t have time for her anymore. I’ve tried to reassure her, but she’s… well, look, she’s seven. And she’s been drawing a lot of pictures to process her feelings.”
Clara handed me a stack of drawings, and my heart sank as I flipped through them.

A stack of children’s drawings and coloring books | Source: Midjourney
Most were variations of the same theme. A happy family with Clara in my place. On the back of one of the drawings, there were more words I hadn’t noticed the first time:
Daddy and Clara.
“So, you’ve been spending time with my daughter?” I asked, unable to hide the edge in my voice.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, of course,” she said. “But only in class, and I’m her teacher, after all. She stays after class sometimes to help me tidy up. She told me she feels like she’s losing her mom because you’re always busy. I’m so sorry if I overstepped. I’d never want to interfere…”
I turned to Jack, my chest tight.
“And you? What did you say to her about this?”

A stressed man | Source: Midjourney
Jack looked miserable.
“I found that picture last week,” he admitted. “I told Mia it wasn’t true, that you love her more than anything. But I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want to make it worse by bringing it up when you were already so stressed out. I told her to put the drawing away because I knew it would hurt you.”
“You should have told me, Jack,” I said softly.

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
I honestly didn’t know what to think.
Jack nodded, guilt in his eyes.
“I know, love,” he said. “I thought I was protecting you, but I see now that I just made it worse.”

An upset man | Source: Midjourney
My anger began to deflate, replaced by a wave of guilt so heavy it nearly knocked me off my seat. This wasn’t about Jack cheating or Clara overstepping. It was about my daughter, her sadness, her confusion, and her way of coping with my absence.
That night, I sat down with Mia at the kitchen table. I had dished us bowls of ice cream with all the toppings, hoping for a bonding moment between us.

Bowls of ice cream | Source: Midjourney
“Sweetheart,” I said softly. “I need to tell you something. I know I haven’t been around as much lately, and I’m so, so sorry. Grandma needs a lot of help right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. You’re my everything, sweet girl.”
Mia’s eyes filled with tears, and she threw her arms around me.
“I thought maybe you didn’t like me anymore,” she whispered.

A little girl sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
My heart shattered.
“I love you more than anything,” I said, holding her tightly. “Nothing will ever change that.”
In the weeks that followed, I made several lifestyle changes.
I cut back on work hours and asked my siblings to take on more of our mom’s care. Jack and I started a “Mom and Mia” night every week, just the two of us, doing whatever she wanted.

A little girl decorating cookies | Source: Midjourney
Sometimes it was baking cookies, other times it was a movie night, or building a fort, or sometimes it was just us dressing up and going on a date together.
I also had a heartfelt talk with Clara to thank her for being a wonderful teacher and being there for Mia when I couldn’t be.
She apologized again for any boundaries she might have crossed, but I reassured her that Mia’s drawings weren’t her fault.

A blanket fort in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I just feel bad, Amber,” she said as she cleaned up paintbrushes.
“I know, but you really shouldn’t, Clara,” I said. “You became a safe space for Mia, and you reminded her of how loved and cared for she is. That’s something I’ll always appreciate.”
Life isn’t perfect, but it’s a lot better. I’m learning to ask for help and to show Mia that she comes first. And now, every time she picks up her crayons, I make sure I’m sitting right next to her.

A smiling mother and daughter duo | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you: Sam used to be a mama’s boy, always clinging to Candice and lighting up at the sight of her. But one day, that changed. He started avoiding her hugs, her kisses, and even her presence. At first, I thought it was just a phase. But there was more to it. Much more.
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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