Lisa believed that a perfect Christmas was one spent with family. Lisa wished for her daughter to have the full, happy family she herself had never experienced. However, when the Santa she had hired revealed his face, she realized the importance of being careful what you wish for.
On Christmas Eve, the Marble family gathered in their cozy living room, the soft glow of twinkling lights from the Christmas tree casting warm patterns on the walls.
The aroma of roasted turkey, buttery mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread filled the air.
Lisa moved gracefully between the kitchen and the table, her hands full of steaming dishes.
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She was the kind of hostess who made everything look effortless, her holiday apron dusted with a sprinkle of flour from the cookies she had baked earlier.
Meanwhile, Robert entertained their giggling daughter, Ashley, who clung to his shoulders like a tiny adventurer on a great expedition.
“Spread your arms like you’re an airplane, Ashley,” Robert instructed, his voice buzzing with enthusiasm as he mimicked the deep rumble of a plane engine.
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Ashley squealed with delight, her arms stretched wide as she wobbled slightly.
“I’m flying, Daddy!” she yelled, her voice ringing like a tiny bell.
“Careful, Captain! We’re hitting turbulence,” Robert joked, swaying exaggeratedly from side to side.
Lisa paused by the table, wiping her hands on a towel, and watched them with a soft smile.
“Time to land, dinner is ready,” she called out, her voice warm and teasing.
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Robert made a dramatic engine noise as he lowered Ashley to the floor.
“Boeing 747 coming in for landing, woo-woo-woo!”
Ashley laughed even harder, tugging on Robert’s sleeve.
“More! I want more!”
“Later, sweetheart,” Robert promised, kneeling to her eye level. “First, we need fuel. Pilots have to eat too.”
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As they sat down to dinner, Lisa glanced at her family. The clinking of silverware and Ashley’s happy chatter filled the room.
Her heart swelled as she realized, for the hundredth time, how lucky she was to have these moments, this family, and this life.
After dinner, Lisa carried the last of the plates to the kitchen, glancing at Robert as he leaned back in his chair, sipping coffee.
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Ashley was curled up on the carpet in front of the TV, her eyes glued to a cartoon with talking animals.
The cheerful jingle of the show filled the room, mixing with the faint hum of Christmas music from the radio.
Lisa caught Robert’s eye and gave him a small nod. He leaned forward slightly and whispered, “Is it time? Where is he?”
Lisa checked her watch and whispered back, “Maybe he’s running late. The weather’s not great, but he should be here any minute.”
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As if on cue, the doorbell rang, its cheerful chime making Ashley’s head snap toward the door.
Lisa wiped her hands on her apron and walked quickly to answer it. When she opened the door, a gust of cold air blew in, carrying with it a man dressed head to toe in a Santa costume.
“Ho-ho-ho!” he bellowed, stepping inside and brushing snow off his red coat. “Where’s the little girl for whom I’ve brought presents?”
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“Santa! You came!” Ashley shouted, jumping up from the carpet and running to throw her arms around him.
Her giggles filled the room as Santa patted her back warmly.
He slung a large red bag off his shoulder, setting it beside the Christmas tree, and plopped down on the couch with a playful sigh.
“Let’s see what I’ve got for you in here! Did you write me a letter this year?”
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“Yes!” Ashley said, her eyes sparkling. “Didn’t you read it?”
Santa chuckled, stroking his fake white beard.
“I did, but you know, there are so many children to bring presents to, and this old Santa sometimes forgets!”
Ashley tilted her head, her face serious. “I asked for a puppy!”
“A puppy?” Santa repeated, pretending to think deeply.
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“Hmm, let me check.” He rummaged through his bag dramatically, pulling out a wrapped box.
“Oh! Found it!”
Ashley ripped the paper open eagerly, revealing a shiny robotic dog. Her excitement faded. “I wanted a real one!”
Santa leaned in, lowering his voice.
“A real puppy is a big responsibility. But if you take good care of this one, maybe next year you’ll get a real one. Ho-ho-ho!”
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Ashley smiled reluctantly, her little hands already exploring the toy’s buttons.
Lisa and Robert exchanged a quiet look and slipped out of the room, leaving their daughter to enjoy her magical moment with Santa.
“I told you we should’ve gotten her a real dog,” Robert muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned against the bedroom door.
His tone was laced with disappointment, and he glanced at Lisa with raised eyebrows.
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Lisa sighed, brushing her hair back and folding her arms.
“A dog is a big responsibility, Robert. Who’s going to walk it in the freezing cold? Who’s going to clean up after it? Train it? Feed it? Let me guess—me!” She gave him a pointed look, clearly irritated by the suggestion.
Robert didn’t back down.
“But it’s not just about the work, Lisa. A dog isn’t just a pet; it’s a family member. You don’t understand how much joy it could bring Ashley—and us! She’s been asking for one for months. Don’t you want to see her happy?”
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Lisa hesitated, frowning as she thought it over.
“Fine,” she said finally, throwing up her hands. “But don’t forget, if she gets bored of it, you’re taking care of it. Not me!”
“Deal!” Robert said with a triumphant grin, straightening up.
But their moment of debate was interrupted when Lisa froze, tilting her head. “It’s too quiet in there,” she whispered.
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“I can’t hear them at all.”
Robert’s smile faded.
“Yeah,” he agreed, a trace of worry creeping into his voice. Without another word, they both hurried out of the room to check on Ashley.
Santa was no longer on the couch when Lisa and Robert rushed into the living room.
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Their eyes darted around the space, but it was eerily empty. Panic gripped Lisa as she grabbed Robert’s arm.
“Where’s Ashley?” she gasped, her voice trembling.
Robert’s eyes widened, and they both sprinted toward the front door. There, they saw the man in the Santa suit standing by the doorway, holding Ashley in his arms.
The little girl was bundled up in her coat, her scarf neatly wrapped around her neck.
“Stop!” Lisa shouted, her voice sharp and full of fear.
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Santa froze, turning to face them with wide eyes as Lisa and Robert dashed toward him.
Lisa grabbed Ashley, pulling her back protectively while Robert stepped in front of them.
“What were you planning to do?!” Robert growled, shoving the man against the wall. His voice was low and menacing. “Kidnap her?!”
“No! No! You’ve misunderstood,” the man stammered, raising his hands defensively. “I just wanted to play snowballs with her! That’s all, I swear!”
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“That wasn’t part of the plan!” Lisa snapped, her hands gripping Ashley’s shoulders tightly. “You were supposed to deliver the gifts and leave!”
Ashley squirmed in Lisa’s grip, her voice breaking through the tension. “Mom, stop! He’s my grandpa!”
Lisa froze, staring at her daughter. “What are you talking about, sweetie?” she asked, her voice softer now but still tinged with confusion.
The man in the Santa suit sighed heavily and reached up, removing his fake white beard.
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Underneath was an older man’s face, worn with deep lines but softened by a sad smile.
“My name is Thomas Martins,” he said quietly. “I’m sure that name rings a bell…”
Lisa’s face went pale. She quickly gestured for Ashley to go to her room.
“Go on, honey,” she said, her voice firm but gentle.
Ashley hesitated, her brows furrowed, but eventually nodded and walked upstairs, glancing back before disappearing.
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“What’s he talking about, Lisa?” Robert asked, his voice breaking the silence.
Lisa turned to him, her expression filled with a mix of anger and pain.
“This can’t be,” she muttered, shaking her head. Then, turning to Thomas, she shouted, “Get out of here! I don’t want to see you in my house!”
Thomas held his hands up again, his eyes pleading. “I didn’t come to take your daughter, Lisa,” he said earnestly.
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“I just wanted to see her, to spend time with her. She’s my granddaughter, and I’ve never seen her in my entire life.”
Robert turned to Lisa, his confusion growing. “What’s he talking about, Lisa?”
Lisa’s shoulders slumped, and she closed her eyes for a moment before speaking. “He’s telling the truth,” she said softly.
“He’s Ashley’s real grandfather.”
“What?!” Robert exclaimed, his voice rising.
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“What does this mean?!”
Lisa took a deep breath. “He’s my father,” she admitted. “The one who abandoned me when I was little…”
Robert’s eyes narrowed as he turned back to Thomas. “It’s him?! Why did you come here?!”
Thomas’s shoulders sagged as he spoke.
“I just wanted to see my granddaughter, nothing more. I know you’ll never forgive me for what I did—I can’t forgive myself either—but I only wanted to be her grandfather for this one evening.”
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Robert clenched his fists, stepping closer.
“That’s enough,” he growled, beginning to push Thomas toward the door.
“Wait, Robert,” Lisa said, her voice stopping him. She stepped forward, her expression softening.
“It’s Christmas. This is a day when families should be together.”
She turned to Thomas, motioning for him to come closer. “Maybe I’m not ready to forgive you for not being in my life,” she said carefully.
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“But I don’t want to deny my daughter the chance to know her grandfather. Please, don’t make me regret this decision.”
Tears filled Thomas’s eyes as he nodded.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out and hugged Lisa gently, his shoulders shaking as he wept.
For Thomas, this was more than he had dared to hope for.
And for Lisa, that Christmas brought something unexpected—a new chance to heal and grow as a family.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: It felt like Chelsea’s boyfriend had changed since they started dating. He used to be romantic and gentle and even wrote her letters. But now, he didn’t show up and left her alone at his friend’s birthday. However, after Chelsea found a letter in his friend’s coat, she realized the hard truth. Read the full story here.
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My Wife and I Hadn’t Spoken in 10 Years Until I Found Out She Was Getting Married Again – Story of the Day
My runaway bride reappeared ten years later in heels and a power suit, demanding I sign our divorce papers like we were just neighbors with unfinished business.
I consider myself a loner. Honestly, I still have a wife. She had just run away from our wedding ten years before.
Every year, I get the same envelope from her. New law firm name, new initials, glossy folder — just the way she likes it — a true aesthete, even in divorce proceedings.
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I open it, read halfway through, sigh, and stash it in the drawer. There’s a whole collection, almost like a calendar, for every year of our “fake marriage.”
That morning, as usual, I was cleaning the barn. The snow had melted, the ground was soft, and the tractor refused to start again. My glove was torn; the dog had buried the other boot somewhere.
All, just as it should be. Quiet. Peaceful. The air smelled of fresh grass and smoke. I love that — it smells like life. Real life.
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I reached into the metal mailbox. An envelope. Gold initials. Oh, something new. She switched firms. Progress.
“Well, hello, Mel.”
The dog barked. We understood each other without words those days.
“Would you sign it, Johnny?” I asked my dog, sitting down on the porch with my coffee.
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He sneezed. Wise dog. While I was thinking, Billy dropped by. My childhood friend, a farmer who always smells like apples and diesel fuel.
“So, she sent you another ‘love letter’?” he smirked, setting a basket of fresh bread on the step.
“Yep. Volume Ten. Might auction them off someday.”
“Still not gonna sign?”
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“Nope. I’ve got a principle. If you want to end something — come and say it. No need to yell. Just be honest.”
Billy sighed, gave me a look like he wanted to say something — then changed his mind.
“I’ll get going. Looks like rain’s coming, and I didn’t bring a cover.”
“You’re wearing a leather jacket, Billy.”
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“That’s not a cover — it’s fashion.”
And he left, leaving me with my coffee, my dog, and yet another farewell letter.
I went back inside. Everything is in place. I tossed more logs into the stove. Scratched the dog behind the ear and turned on the radio — the only thing that hasn’t abandoned me over the years.
And then, I heard the sound.
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First — a low engine hum. Then — the familiar squeak of suitcase wheels. Then — high heels crunching on gravel. I stepped onto the porch. And saw her.
Melanie. Her hair was a bit shorter, but her eyes were the same. She had that look — like we saw each other yesterday, even though it’s been ten years.
“Hi, Jake.”
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I smiled. But something inside me clenched.
“Well. Finally decided to come and ask for an autograph in person?”
***
Melanie stepped across the threshold. Her eyes scanned the wedding photo on the mantel.
“You still keep that?” she nodded toward the frame.
“Yep. Nice photo. And the frame isn’t cheap either.”
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Her gaze drifted past the mantel to the plaid throw blanket on the armchair. It was the same one we used to fight over on rainy nights. Her fingers brushed it gently and then paused.
Melanie turned toward the kitchen shelves, where old jam jars stood in a neat row.
“Is that… blueberry?”
“Yeah. From that summer when the berries went wild behind the barn.”
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Melanie gave the faintest nod, but her eyes glistened before she looked away. Then she straightened her posture, smoothed her sleeve, and reached for her briefcase.
She sat at the table and pulled out the documents.
“Jake, I’m serious. My wedding’s in two months. I need everything signed.”
I sat down across from her.
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“The groom wants to make sure you’re officially single?”
“He thinks I’m single. So don’t make this harder than it is.”
“Have you ever been honest with me, Mel?”
“Oh, don’t start.”
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“Fine. Not starting. Just listening.”
She unfolded the papers and laid them out in front of me. I glanced at them.
“Old version. Outdated. Doesn’t even mention the farm.”
“Well, I thought…”
“That nothing had changed? Big surprise, huh?”
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She flared.
“Jake, I didn’t come here for your passive-aggressive lectures. I came because I’m tired of playing silent. I want to end this like an adult.”
“An adult comes sooner than ten years later. An adult doesn’t run off the night before the honeymoon and hide behind envelopes.”
She stood up. Her hands were trembling.
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“If it’s money you want — just say so. How much?”
“Money?” I laughed. “You think I waited ten years for a payout?”
“Then why, Jake?! Why haven’t you signed?”
“Because you still haven’t said why you ran. I have principles.”
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“Oh, Jake, it’s been years. Everything’s changed.”
I stood.
“Yeah, it has. I got my life together. Built something. A business. And by the way, I earned everything I had while we were still married. Officially. Legally. Even the lakeside lot. And those two cow-show trophies? Still during our marriage.”
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She stared at me silently.
“By law, half of it is yours,” I said. “But I’m not handing it over to someone who only dared to mail things once a year.”
“You… you’re blackmailing me?”
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“No. I’m giving you a choice. I’ll sign if you formally waive any claim. At a notary. All legal. But we’ll need to update the paperwork. That takes time.”
She sat back down. “Fine. How long?”
“A week. Maybe two. This isn’t New York. Around here, the internet runs through a tree.”
“Then I’m staying. Technically, it’s my house too.”
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“Technically — yes,” I sighed. “But you’re cooking dinner. I’m allergic to your flower petal salads.”
“And I’m allergic to dust and male ego.”
We stared at each other for a few long seconds. Then, I walked off toward the pantry to break eye contact. Melanie climbed upstairs — offended, with her briefcase under her arm like she’d come here to win, not to talk.
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I knew she wouldn’t survive that silence.
Truthfully, the papers were just an excuse to keep her here a little longer. So I could finally knock some sense into our marriage.
Because I still loved that infuriating woman. Whoever she had become.
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***
Days on the farm passed quickly, but our silence moved painfully slowly.
Melanie spent most of her days in town, hunting for a decent Wi-Fi signal. Meanwhile, I cleaned the house and the yard and planted flowers on the porch.
Billy dropped by one afternoon.
“This place hasn’t looked this good since your wedding, pal.”
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“Oh, I just… finally had some time for myself.”
“Careful, someone might fall for you.”
“Cut it out. Not Melanie. That’s long gone.”
Billy tilted his head and looked at me like I’d just said the sky was green.
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“Jake, don’t be a fool. She’s here. That means something.”
“She’s here because she wants a signature.”
“Then sign it. Or don’t. But for the love of bacon, talk to her. Ask her to dinner. Do something other than fixing fences and mumbling at your dog.”
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That evening, I found Melanie in the pantry. She was holding my box of documents.
“What are you doing?” I asked, not even raising my voice.
“Looking for tea. But I stumbled on this.”
“You always break into places where you’re not invited?”
“And you always hide what matters instead of talking about it?”
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“I wasn’t hiding. I was postponing. It wasn’t time yet.”
“Not time?! I’m getting married, Jake! Married! To a real, present, grown man!”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sure he will be thrilled to hear his bride was digging through her legal husband’s pantry.”
“You just can’t accept that I left! That I changed! You hold on to the past like an old jacket that hasn’t fit in years!”
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“And you hold on to some fantasy version of yourself until you have to look yourself in the eye. Have you ever actually thought about what you did? I can’t believe the Melanie I loved could sleep at night after running away like that!”
“Oh, I slept just fine! I didn’t have to crawl under three blankets because someone never fixed the windows!”
“You never said anything bothered you! Not once!”
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“Oh, maybe because it was obvious?! You never asked what I wanted! I wanted more! A career! The city lights!”
“You could’ve told me. We could’ve sold this place and moved to New York together.”
“Oh yeah? And what about the money you poured into building this farm the day before the wedding? You think I didn’t see the contract? That was the final straw, Jake! You said nothing.”
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“And you did? You said nothing, either! About your dreams, about the windows!”
“I’ve had enough! No wonder I ran. I haven’t even been able to answer my fiancé for two days because there’s no signal here!”
“Oh. You probably connected to the broken router. I have two — forgot to mention.”
“You! How dare you!”
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She slammed the pantry door. The house went black — total darkness.
“What was that?” I frowned.
“I… may have knocked that old switch.”
“That ‘old switch’ was the main breaker. It’s broken now. Congratulations, Mel, we’re in the dark.”
“Wonderful! Magical!” she shouted. “No light, no water, no reason to live!”
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“Let’s not overreact,” I muttered, grabbing a flashlight.
I headed outside and built a fire. Melanie sat on the bench, wrapped in my old flannel shirt. No makeup. Hair hastily tied up. For the first time in days, she looked real.
“You hungry?” I asked, skewering some chicken.
“Starving. But if you offer me canned beans, I’ll run to the nearest motel.”
“Barbecue. Real fire. Your dad’s old recipe, actually.”
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She gave a slight nod.
“Mel…” I started but didn’t finish.
“Don’t. I don’t even know what to think. But it’s… peaceful here. Cozy, even. You’ve turned this place into something magical. I miss that in New York.”
“It’s not too late to stay. I always knew your soul was too wild and free for a city apartment, even if it’s a big one.”
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I chuckled. “Yeah… I only realized that after I got everything I ever wanted.”
“Well, there are plenty of forests and fields out here to calm the rebel in you.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I ran because I was scared I’d stay here forever. That my dreams would die under diapers, early mornings, and a farm you decided to build.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t going to make you a prisoner. I wanted to make you happy.”
We sat in silence. The fire crackled.
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Then, Melanie suddenly laughed.
“Remember when I burned your favorite sweater?”
“It was hideous.”
“But warm!” she giggled. “And it smelled like you.”
“Melanie… All these years, I couldn’t understand… why? We were so in love. I still…”
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Suddenly, headlights lit up the yard.
“You expecting someone?” I asked.
Melanie’s face went pale.
“No… No, it can’t be…”
Out stepped a tall man in a coat. Phone pressed to his ear. Slicked-back hair, judgmental stare. New York in human form.
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“Melanie! Finally, I found you!” he shouted. “What are you doing here with this…!”
Melanie opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off.
“You’ve got meetings this week. My assistant’s been trying to reach you. And my mother’s freaking out about the seating chart.”
“This…?” I raised an eyebrow. “This is her legal husband. For now.”
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He looked from me to her.
“What is this?! Some kind of joke?!”
“Oh. Sorry,” I said dryly. “Thought you knew.”
“Melanie! Pack your things. We’re leaving. We have a wedding to plan. Did you forget?”
Melanie stood frozen. Speechless.
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I calmly took a piece of grilled meat from the skewer, bit into it, and added,
“No rush, Mel. You’re hungry — eat first. And, sir… have a seat. Help yourself. The night’s just getting started.”
***
Packing was fast.
While Melanie was arguing with her fiancé in my yard, I sat quietly in my office, signing the papers. Calmly. Steadily. Only my hand trembled a little. Before she walked out the door, I handed her the documents.
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“Here. It’s all official now.”
She looked down at them. Then at me. Her eyes dropped.
“I’m sorry… I have to go.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Her hand was already on the doorknob when I stepped toward her.
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“But just tell me one thing. One simple thing.”
She froze.
“Is this really what you wanted? Are you truly happy?”
Silence.
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“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
And she left. But I already knew the answer.
I sat on the porch with my dog, watching the fire burn down.
Suddenly, I understood… I couldn’t make the same mistake twice. Ten years ago, I let her walk away. This time, I am going to fight. I grabbed my pickup keys and tore off into the night.
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I took the shortcut I’d built over the years — a road that led straight to town and the highway. It turns out it wasn’t built in vain.
Thirty minutes later, I burst into the airport like a madman.
The flight to New York… had already taken off. Too late. She’s gone. Again.
“Jake?”
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I turned around. Melanie stood there. Backpack slung over her shoulder, with tears in her eyes.
“I thought you’d flown…”
“And I thought one time running was enough. Twice would just be stupid.”
“And what stopped you?”
“The dog. I forgot to say goodbye to Johnny,” she said with a tiny grin.
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“The dog?” I laughed. “And here I thought it was my world-famous barbecue.”
“I realized halfway through the airport that I’ve never laughed with him. Not really. We make sense on paper. But we don’t… feel.”
We drove home together. On the way, she fell asleep leaning on my shoulder — like she used to back in college. On the porch, she pulled the divorce papers from her bag.
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She tore them in half. Then again. And again.
“Divorce officially canceled. But only if you promise never to wear sweaters in that color again. And help me move my stuff.”
“Man’s honor.”
The dog growled softly. And we walked inside. It was warm there. And quiet. And no one was in a rush to leave ever again.
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Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I spent $30,000 trying to become a Mom, only to hear my mother-in-law call my adopted kids “fake” in front of guests. I stayed quiet then. But not for long.
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