A man ridicules his unemployed wife, only to come home one day to find her gone. In her search, he discovers a note revealing she intends to divorce him. Can he stop her from doing so and save their marriage?
It was a bright, cold October morning, and Harry was excited about his gaming app presentation, a project he had poured himself into for the past six months.
As the clock struck eight, Harry entered the dining room, preoccupied with his phone, barely acknowledging his wife, Sara, and their sons, Cody and Sonny.
“Morning, honey,” greeted Sara.
“Good morning, Daddy,” the boys chimed in unison.
Ignoring them, Harry grabbed a toast and rushed back to his room.
“Sara, where’s my white shirt?” Harry’s voice boomed from the room.
“It’s in the wash with the other whites,” Sara replied.
Harry stormed into the dining room. “That’s my lucky shirt! I needed it for today!”
“I didn’t have enough whites for a full load until now. You have other white shirts!!”
“This is a big day for me, and you’re making excuses?” Harry retorted.
“You’re overreacting, Harry. Your presentation is what matters. It’s just a shirt. So stop barking, alright?”
“Oh really? I’m barking? You wanna do this now?”
“Do what, Harry? You’re making a scene for a stupid little thing. And nobody would be interested in what color shirt you’re wearing when all eyes would be fixed on your goddamn presentation.”
“A goddamn presentation? Come again…Did you just say that? Do you have any idea how I’ve been busting my butt off day and night for that project?”
“Watch your words. The kids….”
“You sit at home all day doing nothing,” Harry blurted out. “Is it too hard to remember one simple thing? All you do is Blah Blah Blah and NOTHING at home.”
“Harry, stop this. The kids are watching. You’re scaring them.”
“Oh really? And nobody watches you when you’re on the goddamn phone gossiping all the time with your friends. Nobody watches that, huh, Sara? You can never be a good wife if you can’t do even a simple thing for me!”
Harry dressed up in a random suit and stormed out of the house, grabbing his briefcase.
After a successful presentation and bagging the promotion, Harry anticipated an apology call from Sara – something she always did after their fights. But this time, there were no calls.
Thinking he would win her apology anyway, he returned home with white roses but found the apartment empty. A note from Sara on the table read, “I want a divorce.”
Confused and worried, Harry called Sara’s sister, Zara, who informed him that Sara was in the hospital. Harry rushed to the hospital, only to face an angry Zara. “You told her she was not ‘wife’ enough for you?”
“Look, we’ll talk about this later, alright?”
Harry rushed to meet the doctor. “Doctor, is my wife alright? Can I see her?”
“It was a mild attack. She’s out of danger. But she needs to take care of her health now. Go ahead and only ten minutes coz she needs to rest.”
Harry shakily walked into the ward, trying to force a smile as he approached Sara.
“Honey, I’m sorry. Please, let me explain. I—”
“I don’t wanna hear anything. I’m done. Divorce is the only thing I want.”
“Wha-What? Why…You’re taking it too far, alright?”
“I had ambitions, plans… I chose you over every opportunity, and it ruined my life,” she said. “It’s too late for your
“Honey, please. We can work this together,” he pleaded.
“No, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be fake to myself. To you. And to the kids. I’m 32, but I feel like a crone. I just hate you, Harry. You’re so disgusting.”
“What about the kids, Sara?”
“I’m in a tough spot to provide for them…So they’re staying with you.”
Harry spoke no more and stormed out of the hospital to pick up his kids from Zara’s house.
At home, he ordered pizza and ice cream for dinner. After tucking the kids into bed, he called his friend Alex, who suggested that Sara might have just cracked up and would be home soon.
The next morning, Harry’s kids awoke him, and as soon as he looked at his watch, he knew he was late! In the morning chaos, Harry burnt the French toast and his shirt while juggling the kids’ school preparations.
“Oh, no, the toast,” he exclaimed, rushing to salvage the breakfast.
“Daddy…Daddy, what’s happening?” the kids asked amidst the chaos.
“It’s just the smoke alarm. Don’t worry,” Harry reassured them, but things only got worse.
He had an important meeting, and he was getting late. “I’ll quickly get ready, and let’s grab something nice to eat on the way to school, yeah?”
He dropped the kids off at school and arrived late at the meeting. “Sorry! Traffic, you know….”
When he returned home in the evening, Harry found signs of Sara’s absence more evident. Her belongings were gone. “Did she leave me for real?” he wondered, overwhelmed.
“Daddy, what happened to Mommy’s pictures and her things?” the boys asked.
Harry, clueless, called Zara.
“Is this some kind of a joke, Zara? Your sister came here. Took all her things. And left me? With the kids?”
Zara coldly informed him, “She’d told you, hadn’t she, Harry? You took my sister for granted.” And then the line went blank.
Five months went by without Sara. Harry struggled to balance work and parenting, and his work performance declined.
One day, his boss, Mr. Adams, invited him for a beer. At the pub, Mr. Adams brought up Harry’s recent work issues.
“Harry, we’ve noticed you’ve been missing deadlines and coming in late. And we’re a business…If you know what I mean,” Mr. Adams said.
Harry, trying to lighten the mood, joked, “So, you plan to let your best game developer go?”
Mr. Adams was also Harry’s friend, and Harry could’ve never prepared himself for what happened next.
“I’m afraid, yes,” Mr. Adams replied seriously. “It’s out of my hands. I’ll give you good recommendations.”
“What? Please, don’t do this! I need this job for my kids.”
Mr. Adams remained silent, leading Harry to storm out in frustration. As he walked away, his phone rang. It was Sara.
“Sara?” Harry said, surprised.
“Harry, can we meet for a quick chat at five? At the café where we first…?” Sara asked.
At a café, Sara met with Harry to discuss their children. She revealed she had been in therapy and now wanted custody.
“Custody?? How dare you? After you left us?” Harry fumed.
“Harry, I’m their mother. I have rights,” Sara insisted.
“You abandoned them, and now you want to take them away? They’re used to me now,” Harry argued.
Sara was determined. “I deserve to have them back. I’ll see you in court.”
Days later, Harry, now adept at managing household chores and balancing a new freelance gig, prepared breakfast for his sons.
“Daddy loves you,” he kissed them goodbye and dropped them at school before heading to the custody trial.
“Mr. Wills, can you please tell us about your attention to your family while you lived together with my client, Miss Sara?” Sara’s lawyer asked Harry.
“Well, I did my best to provide for my family. I worked long hours. Overtime sometimes. I kept myself busy because I wanted to make sure they had everything they needed,” Harry said.
“That’s what most responsible family guys do, right?! And what about your wife’s ambitions? Did she want to build her own career?”
“Before we had our kids…Yes, she did want to work. But after that, she stayed home to look after the kids and the household.”
“Well, looking after the kids…the family…cooking, cleaning. So basically, your wife has been your cook. Your children’s nanny. Your wellwisher. And did you insult her, saying she did nothing at home?”
“I did. Yes, it was an outburst. I was late for office and—”
“Mr. Wills, were you fired from your job? Why were you fired exactly?”
“Objection, Your Honor. This is utterly irrelevant and immaterial to the case,” Harry’s lawyer rose.
“Objection overruled.”
“Thank you, Your Honor!” added Sara’s lawyer. “Mr. Wills, why were you fired from your job?”
After a momentous pause, Harry looked into Sara’s teary eyes and opened up. “Because I couldn’t balance my work and parental duties. I tried, but it was too much. But I didn’t give up. I would never give up on my kids. I love them.”
“Mr. Wills, how are you managing now? How do you intend to support your kids…without a job?”
“I have a job. I can support them well.”
“Be specific, Mr. Wills. What job and what’s the salary?”
“It…It’s a part-time freelance gig. I’m a video editor.”
“Mr. Wills, I admire your confidence despite your climbing down the career ladder! I’m sure you make nothing much like you used to in your previous job, right?” the lawyer added ironically. “A freelance job. Low salary. And raising two kids in today’s recession. Well…That’s all, Your Honor.”
Sara was then called up to the box as Harry’s heart started pounding.
“Ms. Sara, can you please tell us about your life with your husband…I mean, soon-to-be ex-husband?” Harry’s lawyer asked. “Did he ever refuse to give you money or care for you in any way?”
“No…Not at all. He was always generous with our finances. We never had any issues with money.”
“Did Mr. Wills ever raise his hands on you or the kids? Has he ever come home drunk and misbehaved at home?”
“No, he never laid a hand on us. My husband. Sorry. Mr. Wills has never come home drunk.”
“Your husband has taken care of you. You even agreed on that. He’s never laid his hands on you. Then why did you leave him and the kids?”
“I had a nervous breakdown. He was always busy. He would come home and sit with his laptop, barely asking me if I was sick…happy…or sad. I tried to cope. But I couldn’t do it anymore and left. I didn’t want my kids to struggle with me as I wasn’t emotionally stable at that time.”
Harry slowly started to break on the inside, and those words hit him like a bag of bricks.
“Ms. Sara, where were you these six months? What were you doing, and how will you care for the kids?”
“I was in Chicago at a friend’s place. I wanted to be away from everything and everyone for a while. Then I moved back to Boston…got a job as an interior designer.”
“What’s the guarantee you won’t have another breakdown and won’t abandon the kids again?” the lawyer broke Sara’s silence.
“Objection, Your Honor. This is baseless and….” Sara’s lawyer chimed in. “My client, Ms. Sara, has come for the children’s custody. Why would she leave them again?”
“Order…Order.”
“I won’t do it ever again. My children are my world. I’ll be there for them and never let anything like that happen again.”
And two hours later, the verdict was announced, and Sara was granted custody of the kids.
“….Mr. Wills, you’ll have the right to visit your children and take them with you two days a week. You’re required to pay $860 as support to your children every month. This case is now closed.”
Soon, the day arrived when the kids would go with Sara. She arrived, sad to separate the kids from their father but happy to have them back. As she was leaving with her two sons, her elder one stopped her.
“You’re just tearing us apart,” spoke Cody as he let go of Sara’s hand and bolted to Harry.
“We want both Mommy and Daddy!” added Sonny.
This was it. Sara could no longer hold herself back. She bolted in their direction and hugged them.
Music Teacher Offers Free Lessons to ‘Poor’ Boy, Then Discovers His Father’s True Identity
A former pianist turned school teacher, Lily begins teaching piano to Jay, a talented boy she believes comes from a poor family. Her efforts to nurture his gift take an unexpected turn when she learns the truth about his father’s identity—a revelation that threatens to unravel everything.
Lily sat by the piano, her fingers lightly pressing random keys, filling the room with soft, disconnected notes. She sighed, her mind spinning with worry.
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The orchestra had been her life, her dream since she was a child. Now, that dream was gone, and with it, her sense of security. The director had dismissed her without a second thought, choosing his daughter over her.
She had a small job teaching music to a few adults, but it barely covered her rent, let alone food and other expenses. Frustrated, she planted her hands firmly on the keys and began to play one of her favorite melodies, pouring her emotions into every note.
The tune started softly, but as thoughts of her situation flooded her mind, she played harder, her fingers striking the keys with increasing force.
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When the song ended, the room fell into a thick, profound silence, as if absorbing her pain. Her hands dropped limply to her lap, and she gently closed the piano lid, resting her forehead against it. The stillness was comforting, but it didn’t solve her problem.
Over the next few weeks, she scoured job listings, applying to anything remotely related to music. Finally, she found a position as a school music teacher. She didn’t mind teaching—she respected teachers deeply.
Yet, part of her longed to create her own music, to pour her soul into her art, not just guide others in theirs.
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But with no other options, she accepted the job. The school was eager to have her; they’d been searching for someone for months.
The first few days were tough. She wasn’t used to working with kids, and they seemed indifferent to her quiet, gentle way of teaching. She tried everything—she played soundtracks from popular movies, catchy pop songs—anything to spark their interest. But nothing seemed to stick.
Then, one afternoon after class, as she wandered down the hallway, a soft melody caught her attention. She followed the sound to her classroom, peeking inside. There, at the piano, was Jay, one of her students. He was playing the exact piece she’d practiced earlier in the day.
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“Do you play piano?” Lily asked, walking into the room.
Jay flinched, startled. “No… not really. I haven’t played much,” he mumbled, looking down at the keys.
“But you were just playing,” Lily replied, a warm smile spreading across her face. “And very well, especially for someone your age.”
Jay shrugged. “I just remembered how you played it.”
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Lily blinked, surprised. She knew that even many trained musicians couldn’t play by memory like that. “Would you like to learn?” she asked.
Jay’s eyes brightened, and a small smile appeared on his face. “Really? You’d teach me?”
Lily nodded. But she noticed his face fall as quickly as his excitement had come. “What’s wrong?”
“I… I can’t. I mean, thank you, but… we can’t afford it,” he said quietly.
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Lily looked at him thoughtfully. She recalled noticing that he rarely ate lunch with the other kids. He seemed to keep to himself. “You don’t have to worry about paying,” she said gently. “I’ll teach you for free.”
Jay’s face lit up with a huge grin, and without warning, he threw his arms around her. “Thank you!” he said.
Over the next few weeks, Lily and Jay met in the empty classroom after school, their shared enthusiasm filling the room. Lily watched in amazement as Jay played each new piece she showed him, his fingers moving across the keys with surprising ease.
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Every note, every chord, every melody seemed to come naturally to him. She taught him music notation, guiding him through each symbol and rhythm.
Yet each time, she marveled—did he even need these lessons? His talent was raw, instinctive, as if he was born to play.
As Jay worked through a new melody one day, Lily smiled and leaned forward. “Have you ever thought about performing?” she asked.
Jay looked up, surprised. “Performing? Like, in front of people?”
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“Yes!” Lily replied. “The school festival is coming up. You could play a piece there. You’re talented enough.”
Jay hesitated, glancing at the piano keys. “I don’t know… What if I mess up?”
“You won’t,” Lily said warmly. “You’re ready, and I’ll help you. We’ll pick a song together, something you feel good about. You could even choose the piece.”
Jay bit his lip, still unsure, but nodded slowly. “All right, I guess I could try.”
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Lily’s heart soared. She hadn’t felt this excited in a long time. Teaching him, watching his confidence grow—it filled her with a sense of purpose she hadn’t known she needed.
On the day of the performance, Lily moved through the crowded school hallways, searching everywhere for Jay. Her eyes scanned each room, her heart beating a little faster with worry each time she didn’t find him.
He was supposed to close the show, and time was running out. Other teachers stopped her, asking, “Have you seen Jay? Is he ready?”
She shook her head, feeling more anxious with each question. Suddenly, just as she turned toward the stage, Jay rushed in backstage, looking flustered and out of breath.
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“Quick, I need to go on now, before he sees me,” Jay whispered urgently, glancing toward the stage.
Lily placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, sensing his distress. “Hold on, Jay. Another act is on. Who are you hiding from? Why are you so scared?”
Jay’s face crumpled, his eyes filling with tears. “He won’t let me perform. And if he finds out, he’ll get you fired. I don’t want that to happen,” he said, his voice breaking.
Lily knelt down to his level, speaking calmly. “Jay, slow down. No one is going to fire me. Who doesn’t want you to perform?”
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Jay wiped his eyes and looked down. “My dad,” he murmured.
“Your dad?” Lily echoed, surprised. “Is he… does he hurt you?”
Jay shook his head quickly. “No, he just… he doesn’t want me to play the piano.”
“Why not?” Lily asked softly, puzzled. “I’m not charging you for lessons.”
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“It’s not about the money. It’s just that—” Jay started to explain but froze as a stern voice called out.
“Jay!” a man shouted sharply. Lily turned, shocked to see Ryan standing there.
Lily recognized him instantly. Ryan—her old classmate from high school. Memories of those days rushed back. Back then, they had been friends, maybe even close friends.
Both had dreamed of a future in music, hoping for the same scholarship to attend the top music university. They’d spent hours practicing together, studying, pushing each other to improve.
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Ryan’s family had never approved of his dreams. His parents thought music was pointless, unworthy of their son’s time. But Ryan had continued, driven by his love for it, keeping his ambitions a secret from them.
The day she won the grant was the day everything changed. Ryan had looked at her, hurt and angry, and said she had ruined his life. His words, “I hate you,” had haunted her ever since.
Now, standing before her, she saw that same resentment in his eyes, as if all those years hadn’t passed.
“Jay!” Ryan’s voice rang out sharply. “I told you not to play music. I forbade it!”
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Jay looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “Dad, I can explain…”
Lily, sensing Jay’s fear, turned to him. “You’re not from a poor family?” she asked gently, though she knew the truth. Ryan had inherited his father’s company and was far from struggling.
Ryan scoffed. “Poor family? He probably made that story up so I wouldn’t find out about these lessons. He even stopped eating at school, hoping I’d never suspect it.”
Lily took a steady breath. “But why are you stopping him from playing music?” she asked, looking Ryan in the eye.
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“Because it’s not something a real man does,” Ryan replied firmly.
Lily felt her heart sink. “Ryan, that’s not your belief—that’s your father’s. The Ryan I knew loved music, loved playing the piano.”
Jay’s eyes widened, surprised. “Dad, you used to play?”
Ryan’s gaze hardened. “The Ryan you knew is gone. I was young and foolish. Now I understand. Music isn’t profitable, and it isn’t masculine.” He reached for Jay’s hand, pulling him away from the stage without another word.
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Lily watched Ryan and Jay walk away, her heart pounding. She couldn’t let this end like that. Without hesitating, she hurried through the halls and out to the parking lot. She saw them approaching Ryan’s car, Jay looking down, defeated.
“Wait! Ryan, wait!” Lily called, her voice urgent. “You can’t do this!”
Ryan stopped but didn’t turn. “This is my son,” he said loudly. “I have every right to decide what’s best for him.”
Lily took a breath, stepping forward. “You don’t have the right to take this from him. Jay is talented, Ryan. You know it, and I know it. He deserves this chance.”
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Ryan turned to face her, his expression hard. “I was talented once, too. I had that chance, but you took it from me. Now, I see it was all nonsense.”
“That’s not true,” Lily said, her voice steady. “You don’t believe that, Ryan. And it wasn’t me who took it away. Your parents refused to support you. They never saw your dreams. I know that hurt, but don’t let it hurt Jay.”
Ryan’s eyes flickered, but he shook his head. “It’s my decision. Jay will not play music.”
Lily’s voice rose with emotion. “Stop this, Ryan! It isn’t fair! You’re denying him something he loves because of your own anger—anger at me, anger at your parents. Jay deserves a chance to be who he is. I could find him another teacher, but he needs this. You can’t crush this dream.”
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Jay’s voice was a whisper, but his words were clear. “Please, Dad. Just listen to me. Let me play.”
Ryan looked at Jay, something softening in his expression. After a long pause, he nodded slowly. “One time,” he said quietly. “You can play once.”
Lily let out a sigh of relief. She led Jay back into the school and guided him onto the stage. He took his place at the piano, his fingers finding the keys. As he played, the room grew silent, captivated by the beauty of his music. Lily glanced at Ryan, and for the first time, she saw tears in his eyes.
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“That was my favorite sonata,” he said to Lily, his voice low. “I never had the skill to play it.”
Lily smiled softly. “So, does that mean…” she started, but he nodded, giving his quiet approval. Lily’s heart swelled with pride as she looked at Jay, feeling that he might be her greatest accomplishment.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Mary’s marriage to Ed came with a price: his mother Scarlett who never hid her disdain. From wedding-day insults to constant criticism, Scarlett seemed set on making Mary’s life difficult. Tensions grew with each visit… until something even more shocking unfolded. Read the full story here.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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