When 75-year-old Richard spots his ex-wife Vanessa with a man 20 years her junior, he assumes they’re dating and starts a fight. To his surprise, Vanessa reveals that the man with her is their son he never knew existed. But that’s not the only secret Vanessa has been keeping.
Richard was walking home from the grocery store when an unpleasant sight stopped him in his tracks. His ex-wife, Vanessa, was walking arm-in-arm with a man around 20 years her junior.
“Is she seeing someone else…already?”
Richard was furious. He watched them enter a café and hurried in after them. Bitterness surged into his nerves when he witnessed Vanessa and the guy holding hands and smiling over something at a window table.
He couldn’t bear seeing Vanessa moving on so soon after their divorce. So he angrily stormed to their table.
“What the hell, Vanessa?” Richard banged on the table, startling Vanessa and the guy with her. “Well, well! My 72-year-old ex-wife has found a new man to romance just a few weeks after leaving her husband! Bravo..! And how long have you been together?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Vanessa was so embarrassed and pleaded with Richard to stop. Simon, the man with Vanessa, rose from his seat.
“Mom…is this my Dad?” he asked.
Richard was astounded.
“What did you say?”
At this moment, Vanessa understood she couldn’t hide the truth from her ex-husband or Simon.
“Richard, please sit. I have something to tell both of you…Do you remember when we first met 54 years ago…at the bar?” Vanessa’s voice trembled as she recounted her past…
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
It was the fall of September 1968. 17-year-old Vanessa and her friends were thrilled by their success at sneaking out of their homes to party at the pub.
“Van, you sure your Dad didn’t see you sneaking out of the house? I don’t want the party to turn into some church sermon!” One of the girls joked as they burst into the pub.
Vanessa’s father, Alan, was a pastor at the local church, so Vanessa had a strict upbringing. She wasn’t allowed to hang out with her friends after sunset. Sunday school was a norm. Hard drinks and late-night parties were strictly banned. And definitely no sex or drugs.
And Vanessa hated it. She loved her Dad but not his restrictions. She wanted a life full of adventure, like her friends. So that night, Vanessa had mustered the courage to sneak out after her parents fell asleep and accompanied her friends to the pub.
Rock’ n’ roll melodies played in the background as the teenagers made their way toward an empty table and immersed themselves in the glitz and glamor of nightlife. Soon, Vanessa and her friend, Carla, headed to the bar to get drinks.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“By the way, I heard Dylan will be here tonight with his friends!” Carla said.
“It’s over between Dylan and me! Period! I don’t even want to talk about him!” Vanessa replied.
She and Dylan had recently broken up, so knowing he was going to be at the pub irked Vanessa. She sat at the bar and ordered a martini. As she chugged her drink, a handsome stranger walked up to her.
“Hey there, gorgeous!” the 21-year-old lad said, leaning closer to Vanessa. “My name is Richard. Can I buy you a drink?”
Vanessa was new to taking hard drinks, and it felt like stars were bursting around her head. When she looked at Richard, she thought he was cute and couldn’t resist his charm.
“I’d be delighted!” Vanessa smiled and locked eyes with Richard seductively. She fell for him at first sight.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Richard and Vanessa talked as if they had known each other for ages and danced to jazz music rolling in the background.
“I’m new to this town,” Richard said as he wrapped his arms around Vanessa and pulled her closer. “Came here on business. Hey, shall we go for a drive? Maybe you could show me around?”
“Oh, I’d love to…but it’s getting late,” Vanessa said when she saw the time on her watch.
However, she immediately changed her mind when she saw how disappointed Richard was. He was too charming for her to say no, so she agreed to go with him.
That night was nothing short of magical for Vanessa. She and Richard drove across the bustling streets, laughing and chatting. They kissed passionately, and soon Vanessa found herself wrapped in Richard’s arms as she experienced her first intimate encounter. It felt like a fairy tale.
They kissed again after dressing, then Richard drove Vanessa home. Every inch of her heart wanted her to stay with him as Vanessa crept into her bedroom. She watched from her window as Richard waved goodbye and disappeared into the night.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Vanessa decided to forget everything about that night and move on with her life until she started feeling nauseous three weeks later.
“Vanessa, what’s wrong?” Vanessa’s stepmother, Rebecca, banged on the bathroom door. “I heard everything, Vanessa. You better come out and explain why you are crying.”
Moments later, an unsettled Vanessa emerged from the restroom, holding onto her stomach and wiping her face. “I am sick…I have a terrible headache.”
“Why are you holding your stomach if it’s a headache?”
Rebecca’s cold and suspicious tone froze Vanessa. “Girl, who do you think you’re trying to fool?”
“I said I’m feeling sick,” Vanessa stuttered and ran back to the bathroom to throw up. Rebecca’s worst fears were confirmed when she saw her teen stepdaughter emptying her stomach into the toilet.
“Vanessa, tell me the truth,” Rebecca stared grimly into the girl’s eyes, “Have you been intimate with someone? Are you pregnant?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Vanessa burst into tears. She knew there was no escape and confided her secret to her stepmother. Rebecca’s initial shock quickly turned to outrage when she heard that Vanessa’s pregnancy resulted from a one-night stand, not a reckless moment with her boyfriend.
“God…You slept with a stranger?” Rebecca jolted Vanessa’s shoulder. “Your Dad will be so ashamed…and how long can you hide this? This child won’t grow up without a father…do you hear me?”
“Tomorrow night, I’ll take your father to a restaurant. Meanwhile, you’ll tell Dylan you want to get back together. Bring Dylan home and…” Rebecca paused as this was not how she’d normally advise her daughter “…spend the night with him. This is the only way to avoid a scandal. Abortion is completely out of the question.”
Vanessa nodded. She regretted sneaking out that night and meeting Richard at the bar. Every moment that felt magical then was now haunting.
Tricking Dylan felt wrong, but she couldn’t confess what she’d done to Dad. Vanessa spent a long, sleepless night thinking about what to do. Eventually, she made a difficult decision and approached Dylan the next day at the park. He agreed to join her for dinner.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
When Dylan arrived, Vanessa sat down with him on the sofa and put her plan into action.
“Please forgive me, darling,” Vanessa leaned closer to Dylan and placed her hand on his lap. “I made a huge mistake…being alone, I realized you’re the one…that I was wrong to break up with you. I’m sorry. I love you…like forever!”
Dylan cupped Vanessa’s face in his hands and looked into her eyes. He was over the moon when she said that.
They hugged, and the evening ended as planned when Dylan carried Vanessa to her bedroom upstairs, and they made love.
Two weeks later, Dylan joined Vanessa’s family for dinner. Afterward, he and Vanessa dropped a bombshell on her father with the news that she was pregnant.
Alan was furious with his daughter, but the thought of becoming a grandfather calmed him down. And Dylan seemed to be a good guy from a wealthy family who would do right by her. So at the end of the serious conversation, Alan put on a happy face.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Months passed, and at only 18, Vanessa was rushed into the maternity ward when she went into labor. Hours later, Dylan wept joyful tears as he cradled his baby son in his arms and introduced him to his parents and closest relatives gathered in the maternity ward.
Two days later, the couple were preparing to go home with their son when a doctor burst into the ward and insisted on speaking with Dylan in his office.
Dylan was puzzled, but he followed the doctor to his office. Shortly afterward, he stormed back into Vanessa’s ward, where all his relatives and Vanessa’s parents had gathered to take her and the baby home.
“YOU LIAR!” Dylan burst into the room and confronted Vanessa. “THIS IS NOT MY BABY!”
Everyone gasped when Dylan revealed what the doctor just said. A weird feeling crawled up Vanessa’s gut when she realized she had a lot of explaining to do.
“Shame on you for doing this to me,” Dylan fumed. “How could you even think I would father someone else’s child? Was it your plan…or were your parents involved in the scheme too? How sick! Mom…Dad…let’s leave. I want nothing to do with her or the child anymore.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Vanessa begged and cried. But Dylan stormed out of the room and out of her life that day. She returned home and pleaded with her dad to forgive her, but Alan was enraged and bitterly embarrassed.
“You’re a shame to my family,” Alan yelled.
“You disgust me. I don’t even want to see you. How can I face everyone in town…and in church? What will I tell them if they ask me who the father of this child is?”
Those words hurt Vanessa like daggers. She realized she’d never regain her father’s trust and would never lead a normal life in that town since people were already gossiping about her.
“…So I made a heartrending decision. I kissed my beautiful baby one last time before placing him for adoption and leaving town,” Vanessa finished her story in tears.
“Six months later, I accidentally met you again in an art exhibition in the new city I moved to, Richard. You know everything that happened after that!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” Richard asked, shock rippling through him. “We could’ve taken Simon back and raised him. Our son was out there…and you kept it a secret all these years? How could you, Vanessa? Is this why you never wanted children?”
“I wanted to confess everything when we rekindled our relationship. I went to the shelter…” Vanessa replied disappointedly. “But it was too late. A family had already adopted him and taken him abroad. I couldn’t bring myself to have another child.”
Richard was overwhelmed by how things unfolded. “And how did you find us, Simon?”
“My dad told me I was adopted before his death,” Simon replied. “He gave me details of my biological mother. I later checked the orphanage’s records. I searched for Mom for over six months. Two days ago, I met her for the first time!”
“Well…I never thought at 75, I would teach my 53-year-old son his first lesson!” Richard said. “I hope you now know it’s better to be truthful…and give people a second chance! This applies to your mother and me as well!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
I arrived home to find my kids sleeping in the hallway — seeing what my husband had turned their bedroom into while I was gone drove me wild with angerPhoto of admin admin3 weeks ago0 616 7 minutes read
After a week away, I came home to the strange and unsettling sight of my kids sleeping on the cold hallway floor. Heart pounding, I searched for answers, only to find my husband missing and odd noises coming from the kids’ room. What I uncovered next left me furious — and ready for a fight!
I’d been away on a business trip for a week, and let me tell you, I was itching to get home. My boys, Tommy and Alex, were probably bouncing off the walls waiting for me.
I mean, a week is practically forever when you’re 6 and 8. And Mark? Well, I figured he’d be glad to hand the reins back to me. He’s a great dad, don’t get me wrong, but he’s always been more of the fun parent than the responsible one.
As I pulled into our driveway at midnight, I couldn’t help but grin. The house was dark and quiet, just as it should be at this ungodly hour.
I grabbed my suitcase and tiptoed to the front door, keys jingling softly in my hand.
The lock clicked open, and I stepped inside, ready to collapse into bed. But something was… wrong.
My foot hit something soft, and I froze. Heart pounding, I fumbled for the light switch. When the hall lit up, I almost screamed.
Tommy and Alex were sprawled out on the floor, tangled up in blankets like a couple of puppies. They were fast asleep, but their faces were smudged with dirt, and their hair was sticking up in all directions.
“What the hell?” I whispered, my mind racing. Had there been a fire? A gas leak? Why weren’t they in their beds?
I crept past them, afraid to wake them up until I knew what was going on. The living room was a disaster zone, littered with pizza boxes, soda cans, and what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream on the coffee table. But no sign of Mark.
My heart was doing the cha-cha in my chest as I made my way to our bedroom. Empty.
The bed was still made, like it hadn’t been slept in today. Mark’s car was in the driveway, so where was he?
That’s when I heard it. A faint, muffled sound coming from the boys’ room. I tiptoed over, my imagination running wild. Was Mark hurt? Had some psycho broken in and tied him up?
I pushed the door open, inch by inch, and…
“What. The. Actual—” I bit my tongue, remembering the kids were just down the hall.
There was Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part.
The boys’ room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and I’m pretty sure that monstrosity in the corner was a mini-fridge.
I stood there, mouth hanging open, as the rage built up inside me like a volcano about to blow. Mark hadn’t even noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing.
I stomped over and yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?”
He blinked at me, looking dazed. “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.”
“Early? It’s midnight! Why are our children sleeping on the floor?”
He shrugged, reaching for his controller again. “Oh, it’s fine. The boys were happy sleeping outside. They thought it was an adventure.”
I snatched the controller away. “An adventure? They’re not camping, Mark! They’re sleeping on our dirty hallway floor!”
“Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he said, trying to grab the controller back. “Everything’s under control. I’ve been feeding them and stuff.”
“Feeding them? You mean the pizza boxes and ice cream in the living room?” I could feel my blood pressure rising with every word. “And what about baths? Or, I don’t know, their actual beds?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “They’re fine, Sarah. Lighten up a bit.”
That’s when I lost it.
“Lighten up? LIGHTEN UP? Our children are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he huffed. “I’m just trying to have a little me-time. Is that so terrible?”
I took a deep breath, trying not to scream. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go put the boys in their beds. Now.”
“But I’m in the middle of—”
“NOW, Mark!”
He grumbled but got up, shuffling past me.
I watched him pick up Tommy, who stirred a little but didn’t wake up. As Mark carried him to bed, I couldn’t help but think how alike they looked: one actual child and the man acting like one.
I scooped up Alex, my heart breaking a little at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I made a decision. If Mark wanted to act like a child, then that’s exactly how I’d treat him.
The next morning, I put my plan into action.
While Mark was in the shower, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.
When he came downstairs, hair still wet, I was waiting for him with a big smile. “Good morning, sweetie! I made you breakfast!”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Uh, thanks?”
I set a plate in front of him. In the middle was a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with a smiley face made of fruit. His coffee was in a sippy cup.
“What’s this?” he asked, poking at the pancake.
“It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a big day ahead of us!”
After breakfast, I unveiled my masterpiece, a giant, colorful chore chart plastered on the fridge. “Look what I made for you!”
Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that?”
“Language!” I scolded. “It’s your very own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”
“My toys? Sarah, what are you—”
I cut him off. “Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new house rule. All screens off by 9 p.m. sharp. That includes your phone, mister!”
Mark’s face went from confused to angry. “Are you kidding me? I’m a grown man, I don’t need—”
“Ah, ah, ah!” I wagged my finger. “No arguing, or you’ll have to go to the timeout corner!”
For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9, I’d shut off the Wi-Fi and unplug his gaming console.
I even tucked him into bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my most soothing voice.
His meals were served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for snacks. When he complained, I’d say things like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.”
The chore chart was a particular point of contention. Every time he completed a task, I’d make a big show of giving him a gold star.
“Look at you, putting your laundry away all by yourself! Mommy’s so proud!”
He’d grit his teeth and mutter, “I’m not a child, Sarah.”
To which I’d reply, “Of course not, sweetie. Now, who wants to help make cookies?”
The breaking point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the timeout corner for throwing a fit about his two-hour screen time limit. He sat there, fuming, while I calmly set the kitchen timer.
“This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their children sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.”
He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”
I studied him for a moment. He did look genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook when I had one last blow to deliver.
“Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I’ve already called your mom…”
The color drained from his face. “You didn’t.”
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Mark’s mother, looking every bit the disappointed parent.
“Mark!” she bellowed, marching into the house. “Did you really make my sweeties sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?”
Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mom, it’s not… I mean, I didn’t…”
She turned to me, her face softening. “Sarah, dear, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I thought I raised him better than that.”
I patted her arm. “It’s not your fault, Linda. Some boys just take longer to grow up than others.”
Mark’s face was beet red. “Mom, please. I’m 35 years old!”
Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, not to worry. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week. I’ll whip this boy back into shape in no time!”
As Linda bustled off to the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked utterly defeated.
“Sarah,” he said quietly. “I really am sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”
I softened a little. “I know, honey. But when I’m away, I need to know you’ve got things under control. The boys need a father, not another playmate.”
He nodded, looking ashamed. “You’re right. I’ll do better, I promise.”
I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I know you will. Now, why don’t you go help your mother with the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.”
As Mark trudged off to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Lesson learned, I hoped. And if not… well, I still had that timeout corner ready and waiting.
Leave a Reply