My Husband Left Me for My High School Friend After I Miscarried — Three Years Later, I Saw Them at a Gas Station and Couldn’t Stop Grinning

When my husband started acting distant, I turned to my best friend for comfort. She told me I was overthinking things. Turns out, I wasn’t. But three years later, fate gave me front-row seats to the consequences of their betrayal.

I used to think betrayal happened to other people—the kind you read about in dramatic Reddit threads or hear about in whispers at dinner parties. Not to me. Not to us.

A sad woman in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

For five years, Michael and I built a life together. It wasn’t flashy, but it was ours—movie nights on the couch, Sunday morning coffee runs, and inside jokes that made no sense to anyone but us.

And through it all, there was Anna—my best friend since high school, my sister in every way but blood. She had been there for every milestone, including my wedding day, standing beside me as my maid of honor, clutching my hands and crying happy tears.

Bride and her maid of honor | Source: Midjourney

Bride and her maid of honor | Source: Midjourney

So when I got pregnant, I thought it was just another chapter of our perfect life.

But then, Michael changed.

At first, it was subtle—the way he lingered at work a little longer, the way his smiles stopped reaching his eyes. Then it got worse. He barely looked at me. Conversations became one-word responses. Some nights, he’d roll over in bed, his back to me, like I wasn’t even there.

I didn’t understand. I was exhausted, heavily pregnant, and desperate to fix whatever had snapped inside him.

So I turned to Anna.

A pregnant woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I sobbed into the phone at midnight, curled up in the dark while Michael slept beside me, oblivious. “It’s like he’s already gone.”

“Hel, you’re overthinking,” she murmured. “He loves you. It’s just stress.”

I wanted to believe her.

But the stress of it all—the sleepless nights, the constant anxiety, the aching loneliness despite being married—wore me down.

Stressed pregnant woman | Source: Midjourney

Stressed pregnant woman | Source: Midjourney

Then, one morning, I woke up with a dull pain in my stomach. By evening, I was in the hospital, staring at a doctor’s lips moving, but not really hearing the words.

No heartbeat.

No baby.

Grief is supposed to come in waves. Mine felt like an avalanche.

A grieving woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

A grieving woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

The miscarriage shattered me, but Michael? He was already gone. He sat beside me in the hospital, cold and silent, his hands never reaching for mine. No whispered reassurances. No grief-stricken apologies. Just a man who looked like he was waiting for a bus, not mourning the child we had lost.

A month later, he finally said the words I think he had been rehearsing for weeks.

“I’m not happy anymore, Helena.”

That was it. No explanation, no emotion. Just a hollow excuse.

Couple having a candid conversation | Source: Midjourney

Couple having a candid conversation | Source: Midjourney

The day Michael left, it wasn’t an argument. It wasn’t some explosive fight with shouting and tears. No, it was much colder than that.

“I’m not happy anymore, Helena.”

I blinked at him from across the kitchen table, the weight of those words pressing against my chest like a rock.

“What?” My voice cracked.

He sighed, rubbing his temples like I was the problem. “I just… I don’t feel the same. It’s been this way for a while.”

Couple having a serious talk | Source: Midjourney

Couple having a serious talk | Source: Midjourney

A while.

I swallowed hard. “Since the baby?”

His jaw tightened. “It’s not about that.”

The lie was almost laughable.

I stared at him, waiting for something—remorse, guilt, anything. But he just sat there, avoiding my eyes.

“So, that’s it? Five years, and you’re just… done?” My hands curled into fists under the table.

He exhaled, sounding almost bored. “I don’t want to fight, Helena.”

Couple having a disagreement | Source: Pexels

Couple having a disagreement | Source: Pexels

I let out a shaky laugh, the kind that comes when you’re on the verge of breaking. “Oh, you don’t want to fight? That’s funny because I don’t remember getting a say in any of this.”

He stood up, grabbing his keys. “I’ll be staying somewhere else for a while.”

Before I could say anything, he banged the door and left.

Anna, my best friend, followed soon after. She had been my rock, my lifeline through it all. But one day, she stopped answering my calls. My messages went unread. Then, suddenly—blocked. On everything. Instagram, Facebook, and even my number. It was like she had vanished off the face of the earth.

Woman lying down on a brown leather couch looking at her cellphone | Source: Pexels

Woman lying down on a brown leather couch looking at her cellphone | Source: Pexels

I didn’t understand. Until I did.

It was my mother who found out first. She called me one evening, her voice hesitant. “Helena, sweetheart… I need you to check something.”

She sent me a link to Anna’s Instagram.

And there they were.

Michael and Anna. Laughing on a sunlit beach, arms wrapped around each other like they had been in love for years. His lips pressed against her temple, her head tilted back in laughter.

Silhouette of Man and Woman Kissing | Source: Pexels

Silhouette of Man and Woman Kissing | Source: Pexels

I scrolled down, my hands trembling. Picture after picture, spanning weeks. Dinners at expensive restaurants, trips to ski resorts, candlelit evenings by the fire. She had been posting them freely, openly—while I was still legally married to him.

The betrayal burned through me like acid. But if they thought I was going to collapse and fade away, they were sorely mistaken.

I took my pain and turned it into power. Michael was sloppy, too caught up in his fantasy to cover his tracks. The evidence of his affair was undeniable, legal ammunition in our divorce. In the end, I walked away with the house, half of his money, and the satisfaction of knowing he’d have to start over from scratch.

A determined woman | Source: Midjourney

A determined woman | Source: Midjourney

He took my trust. I took what I was owed.

Starting over wasn’t easy. There were nights I lay awake, wondering if I would ever feel whole again. If I would ever love again.

But life has a way of rewarding resilience.

A year later, I met Daniel.

He wasn’t just different from Michael—he was everything Michael wasn’t. Kind. Attentive. He never made me feel like I was too much when I opened up about my past. When I told him about my miscarriage, about Michael and Anna’s betrayal, he just pulled me into his arms and whispered, “You deserved so much better.”

And for the first time in a long time, I believed it.

A happy couple | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple | Source: Midjourney

We built a life together. A real one, not some staged fantasy for Instagram. And soon after, we welcomed a baby into our world—a beautiful little girl with my eyes and his smile. I finally had the happiness that had been stolen from me.

Then, one night, fate handed me the sweetest kind of closure.

I was rushing home from work, eager to see my husband and daughter, when I stopped at a gas station. The place was nearly empty, the flickering neon lights buzzing softly in the quiet night.

And that’s when I saw them.

Woman at a gas station | Source: Midjourney

Woman at a gas station | Source: Midjourney

Michael and Anna.

But gone were the designer clothes, the picture-perfect vacations, the air of effortless bliss. Their car was an absolute wreck—rusted, dented, barely clinging to life. The sound of a baby’s cries pierced the air as Anna shifted the tiny bundle in her arms, her face twisted in frustration.

Michael stood at the counter, swiping his card. Once. Twice.

Declined.

He groaned, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “Just try it again,” he snapped at the cashier.

A person holding a bank card | Source: Pexels

A person holding a bank card | Source: Pexels

“Sir, I’ve tried it three times.”

Anna stormed up to him, hissing under her breath. “Are you serious? We don’t even have gas money?”

“I told you things are tight,” Michael muttered. “Maybe if you stopped spending so damn much—”

“Oh, I’m the problem?” she shot back, bouncing the screaming baby in her arms. “Maybe if you kept a damn job instead of flirting with cashiers—”

“That’s not what I was doing,” he gritted out.

Frustrated woman carrying her baby | Source: Midjourney

Frustrated woman carrying her baby | Source: Midjourney

Anna let out a bitter laugh. “Sure. Just like you ‘weren’t’ cheating on Helena, right?”

I bit back a grin. Karma is a beautiful thing.

Michael let out a frustrated groan as the gas station clerk handed his useless card back. “Unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” Anna snapped, shifting the baby in her arms. “It is unbelievable. You swore things were going to get better!”

“Oh, and you’re just so perfect?” He scoffed. “Maybe if you hadn’t maxed out every damn credit card—”

Frustrated couple having a disagreement | Source: Midjourney

Frustrated couple having a disagreement | Source: Midjourney

“Are you kidding me?” she hissed. “I gave up everything for you!”

I watched from the shadows of my car, barely containing my laughter.

Horns honked as their stalled-out junker blocked the pump. A couple of impatient drivers finally stepped out, rolling their eyes.

“Need a push, man?” one guy asked.

Michael clenched his jaw. “Yeah. Whatever.”

The men shoved the rusted heap to the side, leaving Anna standing there, red-faced and exhausted, jiggling a screaming baby on her hip.

Men pushing an old car at a gas station | Source: Midjourney

Men pushing an old car at a gas station | Source: Midjourney

Michael kicked the tire. “This is your fault, you know.”

Anna let out a bitter laugh. “My fault?” She turned to him, eyes blazing. “You want to know the truth, Michael?”

He crossed his arms. “Oh, this should be good.”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “I think Helena got the better end of the deal.”

And with that, I put my car in drive and went home to my real happiness.

A happy woman driving her car | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman driving her car | Source: Midjourney

If you think this story was wild, wait until you hear about the BBQ disaster that ended a marriage! My husband invited his girl best friend to a family BBQ unaware it would be the last straw for me.Trust me, you don’t want to miss it.

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.

Lynda Wiesmeier: Cause of death, Playboy career, movies

Stories

AuthorAvokadoReading5 minViews462Published by17.10.2024

Actress Lynda Wiesmeier gained notoriety for her roles in a few well-known movies.

However, one particular photo of her has drawn notice recently since it seems to offer a window into a bygone period.

Lynda Ann Wiesmeier, a blonde bombshell whose voluptuous form adorned the pages of Playboy Magazine, was born in Washington, D.C., in 1963

Her father was a doctor in the US Air Force, and Bitburg, Germany, was the starting point of her adventure. The family relocated frequently prior to Lynda’s eventual arrival in sunny Los Angeles. She also lived for a while in Bound Brook, New Jersey, where she established herself as a frequent Jersey coast sun worshipper.

starring in a zombie film

Lynda enjoyed working and being active, juggling three professions: acting, modeling, and office clerking in a medical facility.

Last motion picture

However, her last movie may have been the one that made people take notice of Lynda Wiesmeier. She was chosen to play Dianne in the zombie horror film Evil Town in 1987.

The film featured the renowned Dean Jagger in the lead role of an insane scientist searching for perpetual youth. His approach? making a medication synthetically from human pituitary fluid, naturally. Things got worse as he was extracting the fluid; the poor donors’ brainless zombies were the product of the process.

In an intriguing turn of events, Keith Hefner, the younger brother of Playboy founder Hugh Hefner, was also featured in Evil Town. With Lynda and Keith involved, the movie had a strong Playboy vibe.

Though the movie was scheduled to open in theaters on June 3, 1987, there was so much anticipation that several theaters opened their screens a day early, on June 2. Nevertheless, Evil Town fell short of expectations despite the hype.

It was derided by critics who labeled it a “silly horror film.” Cavett Binion of All Movie Guide noted that the picture was a mash-up of footage from previous movies, including a 1970s unfinished effort, and that former Playboy Playmate Lynda Wiesmeier “spiced it up with some gratuitous nudity.” Hurt!

Fortunately, Lynda Wiesmeier was destined for a little return. In the years after its debut, a specific scene from Evil Town has become extremely popular for unknown reasons.

It’s not, however, for the reasons that one might think.

Picture of Lynda Wiesmeier

Scott Hunter, an almost unknown actor, appears on screen with Lynda in this unforgettable scene.

This appears to be your typical 1980s photo at first sight. A young guy and lady are posing in front of a Dodge automobile while wearing iconic ’80s clothing. But if you examine more closely, you might find something surprising!

Lynda is wearing high-waisted white shorts with a bright red blouse that is intricately knotted at the waist, while the man is wearing dark shorts and a gray hoodie with multicolored patterns all over it. Back then, short shorts were all the rage, and Scott wore his with one of those ubiquitous corduroy shirts.

Their vintage attire is a lovely return to the 1980s for many, since it screams ’80s fashion. And it’s just this that makes people swoon over this picture.

The 1980s saw a large, vivid, and dramatic fashion trend that we embraced, including glam rock, punk, and preppy designs.

We could experiment with hair, cosmetics, colors, and an abundance of plastic jewelry along with other wild accessories. And because to Lynda and Scott, we can sometimes be transported back in time to this amazing era with just a simple shot from a lesser-known movie.

departed the field

Following her departure from the film business, Lynda decided to start a family and married her first husband. She went on to have two amazing children, a son and a daughter.

The family made their home in Lafayette, Louisiana, where Lynda started working as a records manager at a legal firm, according to Joyce’s Take.

But then things changed, and in 2004 Lynda, ready to start again, packed her bags and moved to sunny California following her divorce. Lynda loved her relationship with her followers, even as she moved on. She became well-known at several fan events, sharing her experiences and signing autographs, such as WonderCon, Glamourcon, and The Hollywood Collectors Show.

Reason for demise

Sadly, Lynda’s adventure came to an end in December 2012, at the age of 49, after a valiant fight with a brain tumor.

Considering what she could have said about her time in movies like Evil Town, a nostalgic snapshot of a bygone period in movies, is bittersweet.

We can still honor Lynda’s legacy and the happiness she gave her admirers despite her passing. If you too miss the 1980s, please share this article!

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