Barbra worked hard every day to support her husband, Christopher, who had become disabled after a serious accident at work. But one day, she discovered something that would change everything. She saw him walking on two legs and playing golf with a friend. When she confronted him, he revealed a shocking truth about his so-called disability.
Barbra sighed as she settled into her seat on the bus, heading back home after spending a relaxing weekend with her friend near the beach in Destin, Florida. It had been a lovely break, but she was ready to return to her husband, Christopher, in Tallahassee. The journey home was only a few hours, and she planned to unwind and rest before getting back to her busy life.
“Excuse me, can we switch seats? I get a little motion sickness, and sitting by the window helps,” Barbra asked the girl next to her.
“Of course! I’m getting off soon anyway,” the girl replied with a smile. Barbra gratefully took the window seat, gazing out as the bus began its journey.
Barbra worked a lot. She had a regular corporate job, ran a small Etsy shop where she sold custom knitted items, and worked part-time at a coffee shop. She did all of this because Christopher was in a wheelchair and couldn’t contribute financially.
Two years ago, Christopher had suffered a serious accident at work when a box fell on his head. Unfortunately, he was in an area he wasn’t supposed to be, so the company wasn’t legally required to pay him much in compensation. They covered his hospital stay and bought him a wheelchair, but that was it.
He received some disability payments from the government, but they weren’t enough to maintain the lifestyle they had before the accident. Barbra, determined to keep their lives as normal as possible, took on multiple jobs to make up the difference, even paying for his physical therapy out of pocket.
Barbra didn’t mind working hard. She loved Christopher and knew he was struggling with what had happened. He seemed down a lot, except for the weekends when his friend Bruce would invite him over. Bruce had a big house, a game room, and always took Christopher to baseball games.
Bruce’s work schedule was busy, but when he had time, they spent entire weekends together. Barbra used those weekends to visit her friend in Destin and take a break herself. It wasn’t often, but it was a nice getaway. However, now it was time to return to her regular life.
She dozed off during the bus ride but woke up as they neared Tallahassee. Looking out the window, she saw they were passing near Bruce’s house, and her heart stopped when she noticed two men standing in the front yard. They were heading toward a car and pulling out a bag of golf clubs.
Barbra squinted. One of the men was Bruce, but the other was wearing an ugly Hawaiian shirt that only her husband, Christopher, loved to wear. She watched in shock as Christopher walked alongside Bruce, laughing and swinging a pretend golf shot. They both headed to the back of Bruce’s house, where he had a small golf course.
Barbra couldn’t believe what she was seeing. For two years, she had worked tirelessly while Christopher was supposedly unable to walk. Yet here he was, walking and playing golf. Her mind raced with questions. Was this a recent development? Did he plan to surprise her? She hoped that was the case.
When the bus reached her stop, she hurried off and drove home, her heart pounding. She tried to stay calm, convincing herself that Christopher would explain everything when he got back.
Later that evening, Christopher arrived home with Bruce. Barbra waited, expecting a big reveal, but nothing happened.
“Hey, honey! How was your trip?” Christopher asked, as Bruce wheeled him into the living room.
“It was great. How about you guys? What did you do all weekend?” Barbra asked, hoping to hear the truth.
“Oh, you know, same old stuff. We went to a baseball game and hung out,” Bruce said casually before leaving.
Barbra served Christopher dinner, still waiting for him to mention something about walking. “You know, Bruce has a golf course. You could’ve played,” she hinted.
“I still haven’t figured out how to play from a wheelchair,” Christopher replied between bites, acting as if everything was normal.
Barbra couldn’t take it anymore. She slammed her fork down. “Really? You haven’t figured out how to play in a wheelchair?” she snapped.
Christopher looked startled. “What? It’s hard to play golf in a wheelchair—”
“I SAW YOU! I saw you walking and playing golf at Bruce’s house! Christopher, tell me the truth right now!” she shouted, her voice shaking with anger.
Christopher froze, unable to deny it. “How?” he finally asked.
“My bus passed by Bruce’s house. I saw you! You’ve been lying to me. For how long?” Barbra demanded.
He sighed, defeated. “It’s been about a year and a half,” he admitted. “I just didn’t want to go back to work.”
Barbra’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? A year and a half? I’ve been working my fingers to the bone, and you just didn’t want to work?”
Christopher tried to explain. “I needed a break. You were making enough money, and I liked how you took care of me. It’s been the best time of my life.”
“You’ve been lying to me for over a year,” Barbra repeated, shaking her head. “Where do you even go when I take you to physical therapy?”
“I lie to the therapist too,” Christopher confessed.
Barbra couldn’t believe it. “How long has Bruce known?” she asked.
“Since I started walking again,” he admitted.
Barbra stood up, unable to process everything. She grabbed her bag and left the house, going to stay with her mother. That night, she cried harder than she had in years, devastated by Christopher’s betrayal.
After a month at her mother’s house, Barbra filed for divorce. She cut all ties with Christopher, emptied their shared accounts, quit her jobs, and decided to travel the world. It was the best decision she ever made.
I Married My Childhood Friend – He Told Me His Family’s Secret on Our Wedding Night & It Almost Ruined My Life
After marrying my childhood sweetheart, I thought our happily ever after had finally begun. That was until he handed me a notebook filled with his mother’s secrets.
I didn’t expect to run into Michael that morning. I was just grabbing my usual coffee, walking down Main Street in our old hometown, when I spotted him. Tall, familiar, with a hint of gray in his hair, he was standing outside the coffee shop we used to go to after school.
A man with a book in a cafe | Source: Pexels
“Michael?” I called out, almost in disbelief.
He turned, and for a second, he just stared. Then, a big grin spread across his face. “Is that really you?” he said, his voice warm, just like I remembered. “I never thought I’d see you around here again!”
“Same here!” I laughed. “What are the odds?”
A couple holding hands on a date | Source: Pexels
We decided to grab coffee together, just like old times. Inside the shop, everything felt like it had back then. The old wood counters and the smell of fresh pastries. It was almost like time had rewound itself.
We chatted for hours that day, catching up on everything and nothing. We laughed over old stories, like the time we both got lost on a hike or how we’d leave each other notes in history class. The hours melted away.
A couple on a date | Source: Midjourney
Coffee turned into lunch, lunch turned into long walks, and before we knew it, we were calling each other every day. There was something so easy, so natural about being around him.
A few months later, Michael proposed. It was simple, just him and me, sitting by the lake one evening.
“I don’t want to waste any more time,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Will you marry me?”
A marriage proposal | Source: Pexels
I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Yes,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes. Two months later, we tied the knot.
After the wedding, we drove to his family home, where we’d spent many afternoons as kids. The house hadn’t changed a bit. Even the wallpaper in the hallway was the same, and the old oak tree in the yard was still there.
A small house | Source: Pexels
Later that evening, after I’d freshened up, I came back to find Michael sitting on the edge of the bed, looking… different. His usual easy smile was gone. He was holding a small, worn notebook in his hands.
“Michael?” I asked, sitting down beside him. “Is everything okay?”
A nervous man | Source: Pexels
He didn’t look at me right away. His eyes were on the notebook, fingers tracing the edge. “There’s… something I need to tell you.”
The tone of his voice sent a chill down my spine. “What is it?”
He took a deep breath, finally meeting my gaze. “This notebook is my mom’s,” he said quietly. “She kept notes… about our family. About something she thought was important.”
A worn notebook | Source: Pexels
“Okay…” I said slowly, not quite understanding.
He handed it to me, and I opened it. Pages and pages of neat, looping handwriting filled every page. “My family has this… belief,” he began. “A curse, actually. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but they believe it’s real.”
“A curse?” I asked, eyebrows raised, trying to hide my skepticism.
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
He nodded. “My mom says that any woman who marries into the family… is cursed with bad luck. Tragedy. Pain. It’s happened for generations, or so she says.”
I almost laughed but stopped myself when I saw the worry in his eyes. “Michael, you don’t really believe this, do you?”
A worried man | Source: Pexels
He ran a hand through his hair, looking torn. “I don’t know. I’ve always told myself it’s just an old family superstition. But… I’ve seen things, you know? My dad’s marriage to my mom wasn’t exactly smooth. My uncle — well, let’s just say things ended badly for him, too.”
I took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Look, that doesn’t mean anything. Marriages are hard for a lot of people.”
Woman holding a man’s hand | Source: Pexels
He gave a faint smile, but his eyes still looked troubled. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced.
A week after the wedding, small misfortunes began to pile up. First, it was a flat tire right before we departed for our honeymoon, leaving us unable to drive anywhere.
“Just bad luck,” I told him, forcing a laugh.
A flat tire | Source: Pexels
Back home, things took a strange turn. The business I’d spent years building started losing clients. A string of bad reviews appeared online, some from people I’d never even worked with. I tried everything to fix it, but nothing seemed to help. It felt like someone had cursed my work.
Then, someone broke into our house. Nothing important or valuable was stolen, but the psychological damage was done.
A man picking a lock | Source: Freepik
Michael noticed, too. “You think this… this curse could be real?” he asked one night, his voice low.
“Of course not,” I replied quickly, though I was starting to doubt myself. “There has to be an explanation for all of this. Maybe it’s just… I don’t know… a phase.”
The turning point came just before Thanksgiving. Michael’s mother insisted we host the holiday at our home. We chatted on the phone about the menu, and she seemed in good spirits.
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
After the call, I placed my phone down on the couch and picked up a book, settling in to read. But as I turned the page, I heard voices. The phone was still connected.
“Do you really think this curse nonsense is still working?” Michael’s father asked her, sounding exasperated.
Without thinking, I immediately pressed the record button.
A serious woman on her phone | Source: Pexels
She laughed. “It works every time. Look at her! Her business is already struggling, and Michael is so wrapped up in worry he can hardly think straight. And I will put an end to this when I ruin her turkey.”
“Enough, Marianne,” he replied. “You’ve already scared off enough good women from our sons.”
“If they aren’t right for my boys, I’ll do what I have to,” she said, her tone cold. “I know what’s best for them.”
Mature couple talking | Source: Pexels
My stomach turned. I ended the call, feeling numb, replaying her words in my mind. All those strange things — the flat tire, the bad reviews — they were her doing. There was no curse. It was all a lie, a twisted trick to control her sons and their wives.
That night, I sat across from Michael, clutching my phone with trembling hands. “Michael,” I began, “there’s something I need you to hear.”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Freepik
He looked at me, his brows knitted in concern. “What’s wrong?”
I pressed play, and his mother’s voice filled the room.
Michael looked stunned, his eyes darting from the phone to me as he tried to process what he’d heard. “This… this has to be a mistake,” he stammered, the disbelief thick in his voice. “She wouldn’t… my mother would never—”
A shocked man looking at his phone | Source: Pexels
I took his hand. “Michael, I overheard the whole thing. She’s been trying to break us apart.”
Finally, he looked at me, his face set with determination. “I need to hear it from her. I need to hear the truth, from both of them.”
We arrived at his parents’ house late that night. Michael’s father opened the door, looking surprised to see us. “Michael, is everything alright?”
A surprised man | Source: Pexels
Michael pushed past him, his face pale with anger. “Where’s Mom?”
His father’s face fell, and he took a step back. “Michael, please, calm down.”
“I am calm,” he said, his voice strained. “But I need answers, Dad.”
Marianne looked taken aback, her eyes flicking to her husband, who wouldn’t meet her gaze. “What are you talking about?”
A surprised elderly woman | Source: Pexels
Michael held up my phone. “I heard you, Mom. You and Dad, talking about the curse. Talking about how you’ve been… interfering. Scaring off women, making them think they’re cursed.”
Her face went from feigned confusion to a hard, calculating expression. “Michael, I don’t know what you think you heard, but—”
“You know what you said, Marianne,” his father interrupted quietly, stepping forward. “There’s no point denying it.”
An angry elderly man | Source: Pexels
She whirled on him, her eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare!”
“Don’t I dare?” His father shook his head, looking tired and worn down. “I’ve kept my mouth shut for years. Watched you chase off every woman Michael or his brothers ever loved. Watched you lie, sabotage, play with people’s lives just because you thought you knew what was best. It’s gone on long enough.”
An elderly couple arguing | Source: Midjourney
Michael’s face crumpled as he looked from his father to his mother. “So it’s true?” he whispered. “All of it?”
Tears began streaming down her face. “I did it because I love you, Michael.”
He took a step back, shaking his head. “This isn’t love. This is control.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. His father spoke next, his voice weary. “Michael, I’ve tried to reason with her, believe me. But she’s… she believes she’s doing the right thing.”
A frustrated elderly man | Source: Pexels
Michael turned to his father, his voice full of hurt. “And you let her do this? All these years?”
His father looked down. “I was afraid of losing my family. I thought maybe one day, she’d stop. That you’d be strong enough to… break free from it.”
Michael turned silent. Taking my hand, he led me to the door. Outside, he looked up at the stars, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He glanced over at me, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry. For all of it.”
A sad man looking at the skies | Source: Pexels
I squeezed his hand. “We’re free now, Michael. That’s all that matters.”
But as we walked to the car, I felt the weight of the past, the sadness of a family broken by secrets and a mother’s misguided attempts at love. Michael’s heart would take time to heal, but we were leaving the curse and his mother behind.
Holding hands | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: Colleen believed she knew everything about her husband until she accidentally overheard his therapy session. Michael’s startling confession revealed his darkest secrets, destroying their 12-year marriage and leaving Colleen to pick up the shattered pieces of their family…
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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