Husband Returns from Business Trip and Sees Newborn Baby on Table with Two Notes beside — Story of the Day

A man is accused of being the father of a baby abandoned on his doorstep and it costs him his marriage and his way of life.

Kyle Greenbecker had spent a year working on an oil pipeline in Alaska, but finally, he was on his way home to his beautiful wife. He and Lisa met in high school, and Kyle had never regretted marrying her at nineteen.

Maybe he was old-fashioned, but Kyle was proud that Lisa was the only woman he’d been intimate with in his life. He didn’t need and didn’t want anyone else. It never occurred to him that Lisa would ever doubt him — and with good reason.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

When his plane landed, Kyle collected his luggage and walked out with the other passengers, scanning the crowd for Lisa’s beloved face, but she wasn’t there to pick him up.

Probably, Kyle thought, she’d been held up at work with some emergency. He sent her a quick text telling her he was on his way home but got no reply. He hopped into an Uber and in an hour he was walking up to his front door.

The lights were on in the lounge, but Lisa wasn’t there. He made his way to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway, stunned. Resting on top of the kitchen table was a bassinet, and Kyle could see a small arm waving aimlessly.

He took a step closer. There was a bassinet with a baby on his kitchen table! The child was looking back at Kyle with that astonished look babies have, and Kyle stared back just as astonished.

Then he saw a folded paper on the table next to the bassinet. He picked it up and unfolded it. Inside was another sheet of paper with a message in a handwriting he didn’t recognize: “You had your fun, now take responsibility for your child.”

Meanwhile, the note addressed to him in Lisa’s elegant script read:

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Kyle, yesterday I found this child on our doorstep with that note attached. I always suspected you cheated on me during your business trips, but I didn’t hold a grudge on you for that — after all, I had plenty of flings while you were away — but saddling me with someone else’s byblow is too much. I’ve filed for a divorce, and I earnestly hope I will never see you again.

“P.S. And about the baby, don’t worry, I only left when I saw you walk up the drive. Enjoy your life, Kyle, I certainly intend to enjoy mine.”

Kyle sat down and dropped his head in his hands. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. This child wasn’t his, he’d never cheated on Lisa, ever! A soft cooing sound made him raise his head.

The baby was waving its little hand in the air, so Kyle brought his own hand closer and to his surprise, the child grabbed onto his index finger with incredible strength.

“Well, baby,” Kyle said. “I guess it’s just us two, and I don’t know what to do with you!”

The baby cooed again and gurgled, then screwed up his face in an alarming way and turned bright red. “Oh my God!” cried Kyle. “What’s happening?” A certain smell quickly elucidated him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Yep, it was diaper time. But was there even a diaper? On the floor next to the table was a large backpack with several snap pockets that he’d never seen before. Kyle found a bewildering array of items inside and the diapers.

He quickly googled diaper change and watched carefully as a woman on YouTube demonstrated on a life-like doll how to change a diaper.

Kyle started following her instructions but things didn’t run that smoothly. The woman’s life-like doll didn’t move its legs, or sink its kicking heels in the stinking and unmentionable contents of the dirty diaper! After wiping the baby clean, Kyle realized it was a girl, and he didn’t know anything about girls!

“I won’t be giving you dating advice,” he told the baby solemnly. “But I can teach you how to ride a bike.”

Kyle realized in that moment that he intended to keep this baby.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

He picked up the freshly diapered baby and said, “You need me, and I guess I need you too. So how about it, kid?”

Kyle once again consulted the YouTube baby-guru to prepare the formula and settled the baby in the crook of his arm for her feed.

“You need a name, you know that? How about… Celeste? Do you like that? Or Lily…”

If anyone had told Kyle that he would settle into fatherhood so easily and so smoothly he would never have believed it. Lily had her moments and her tantrums, but somehow things worked out.

Kyle registered Lily as his child and enrolled her in daycare. For him, her birthday was on the day he’d found her. But it was on Lily’s second birthday that Kyle’s world fell apart.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

A woman knocked on her door. “I’ve come for my baby,” she said. Kyle just looked at her. She was tall, blonde, and thin, with huge breasts that were obviously a product of a plastic surgeon’s art.

“Your what?” Kyle asked.

A real parent is the one who loves and cherishes the child.

“My baby,” she snapped. “I left her here two years ago? Sorry about that, but I was a bit stoned and my boyfriend lives on the next block over and I got confused. You know how it is!”

“Sorry, I don’t know how that is because I’ve never abandoned a child on anyone’s doorstep,” Kyle said coldly. “I’d get a move on if I were you, or I’ll call the police.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Now look here,” the woman said sharply. “I figured I made a mistake about a week later when Burt didn’t take my calls, but now I need that baby!”

“You need her?” asked Kyle angrily. “What do you need her for?”

“Burt just got himself a Major League contract,” the woman said. “And that baby’s gone make sure some of those millions land in my bank account!”

Kyle ran the woman off, but he had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of her. He was right. A week later he was summoned to family court. A Miss Cherish Vegas was contesting his adoption of baby Lily.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Suddenly, Kyle was showered with injunctions, was visited by Social Services at odd hours of the day or night, and his friends and co-workers were being questioned. Cherish really meant to get her hands on those millions!

Finally, the day of the hearing arrived. Kyle nervously handed over Lily to the social worker for the duration of the hearing and walked in. Cherish was there, of course, and a tall man with Lily’s blue eyes was on her side of the court. This could only be the famous Burt!

Cherish cried and sniveled and told the judge how much she loved and missed her baby, and how her wild college days (now long past and deeply regretted) had led her to place her in Kyle’s care.

The judge looked down at the papers in front of her. “By in his care, you mean on his porch, isn’t that right, Miss Vegas?” asked the judge.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Cherish flushed red. “Well, I’m still her mama! No one can deny that!” she screamed.

The judge looked at Burt. “You sir, you are the father?”

Burt lumbered to his feet and said, “I guess I must be…”

The judge fixed him with a flinty eye. “Are you prepared and able to take on the parental responsibilities for this child?”

Cherish screamed, “You bet he is, judge, he just signed a three million dollar contract to play ball…”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Oh!” cried the judge. “Finally, the truth is out! Tell me, Miss Vegas, what name did you give your daughter?”

“Name?” asked Cherish, confused. “Why, she’ll have her daddy’s name., since he’ll be paying child support!”

Kyle stood up. “Your honor,” he said. “May I address the court?”

“Yes, Mr. Greenbecker,” said the judge. “Please do.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Ma’am, my daughter’s name is Lily, and she does have her father’s name — mine. Since the moment that child came into my life I’ve loved her, and she loves me.”

At that moment, Lily, who had been playing with the social worker’s necklace noticed that Kyle was standing up. “Daddy!” she cried and stretched out her arms.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems to me that the case has been decided by the principal party,” the judge said. “I hereby overturn all claims of custody of the child Lily Grennbecker and confirm Kyle Greenbecker’s custody and adoption.

That night, Kyle celebrated his victory in court and he and Lily spent the evening catching lightning bugs in the garden. “Stars!” cried Lily. But for Kyle, the brightest star of all was his little girl.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

What can we learn from this story?

  • A real parent is one who loves and cherishes the child. Kyle took care of Lily and loved her as if she were his own.
  • A heartless woman will use anyone, even her child, for profit. Cherish didn’t want Lily, she just wanted Burt’s money.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who taught his son how to be the best husband in the world.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story 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.

I Found a Girl in the Middle of an Empty Road at Night – When I Got Closer, I Went Pale

Driving alone on a foggy night, a mother spots a young girl in a tattered dress, silent and familiar. As she pulls closer, she notices that the girl’s haunted eyes hold secrets that might be better left hidden.

It was late, and the night felt thicker than usual. The fog wrapped around the car like a heavy blanket, swallowing up everything beyond the headlights. I squinted ahead, gripping the wheel tighter than usual.

Driving through the fog | Source: Pexels

Driving through the fog | Source: Pexels

“Just get home,” I muttered, rubbing my tired eyes. It had been such a long day at work, and all I wanted was my bed.

I hated this road. I’d always hated it. I usually took the main highway, but tonight, I had thought: Just a quick shortcut. It’ll save me time.

A woman driving through the fog | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving through the fog | Source: Midjourney

Then, something caught my eye. A shadow, right in the middle of the road. I slammed on the brakes, heart pounding, and stared. The figure was barely visible, just an outline in the mist.

“Please just be a tree or a mailbox or something,” I whispered, even though I knew it wasn’t. As I rolled forward slowly, the shadow appeared to be a girl. She was thin, and her white dress seemed to cling to her in tatters.

A girl on a figgy road | Source: Midjourney

A girl on a figgy road | Source: Midjourney

I felt an instinctual chill crawl up my spine. Everything in me screamed to turn around, to get out of there. But something stronger kept me rooted in place.

I rolled down the window a crack, my voice shaky. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, I opened the door and stepped out, flashlight in hand. I aimed it at her face, and the beam caught her features for the first time. I gasped, stumbling back. I knew that face. The pale skin, the wide eyes, the mouth parted slightly in confusion.

A woman stepping out from her car | Source: Midjourney

A woman stepping out from her car | Source: Midjourney

“Emily?” My voice was barely a whisper, but she seemed to hear me. She looked up, her eyes locking onto mine, empty and wide.

“Mommy?” Her voice was soft, barely there.

Shock and relief crashed over me. It was her. My Emily, my daughter who’d been gone for five years. She’d vanished without a trace, no sign of where she’d gone or who might have taken her. The police and search parties had all come up with nothing.

A search party going through the woods | Source: Pexels

A search party going through the woods | Source: Pexels

“Emily, oh my God… it’s really you,” I stammered, taking a step closer. “Where have you been? Are you hurt?”

She blinked, her face blank. “I… don’t know,” she murmured. Her voice sounded small. It was like it hadn’t been used in years.

I swallowed, my mind racing. Trauma, maybe. I had been warned that if we ever found her, she might not remember because kids could block out things that were too painful.

A shy girl looking down | Source: Midjourney

A shy girl looking down | Source: Midjourney

I knelt in front of her, heart racing. “It’s okay, honey. It’s me. It’s Mom. We’re gonna go home, okay?” My hand trembled as I reached out.

I wrapped my coat around her shoulders, feeling her icy skin through the fabric. “Let’s get you out of here,” I said, guiding her to the car. She sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her expression distant.

A woman hugging her daughter | Source: Midjourney

A woman hugging her daughter | Source: Midjourney

The drive home was quiet, her gaze never leaving the foggy darkness outside. I glanced over, trying to read her face, but there was nothing, just a blank stare, as though she was somewhere else entirely.

“Emily,” I tried gently, “do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

She didn’t look at me. “A room. It was… dark. And… there was someone. I think. I think he brought food, but… I don’t remember his face.”

A sad girl in the backseat of the car | Source: Midjourney

A sad girl in the backseat of the car | Source: Midjourney

My throat tightened. “It’s okay, honey. You’re safe now. We’re going home.”

She didn’t respond; she stared into the fog as we left the dark road behind.

As we pulled into the driveway, I felt a pang of relief. The familiar porch light, the sight of home, everything safe. But as I opened the door and led her inside, a new unease settled over me.

A house at night | Source: Pexels

A house at night | Source: Pexels

Emily sat stiffly on the couch, looking around like she didn’t recognize anything. Her movements were slow, almost robotic.

“Do you… remember this place?” I asked.

She shrugged, her eyes blank. “I think so.”

Her voice was so flat, so empty. I sat beside her, reaching out, but stopped, unsure if she wanted comfort or space.

A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

“Mom,” she whispered, her voice barely there, “I’m… cold.”

I wrapped a blanket around her and sat there watching her, unsure of what to do or say.

The days that followed were a blur of quiet tension. Emily barely spoke, answering my questions in monosyllables, her gaze always elsewhere. I only heard her voice when she sang an old lullaby that I used to sing to her as a baby. I knew she couldn’t have remembered that, but I didn’t want to pry either.

A girl covering her face with her hands | Source: Pexels

A girl covering her face with her hands | Source: Pexels

One evening, I found her sitting on the floor, surrounded by old photo albums I’d stored in a closet. She had one open on her lap, her fingers tracing a picture of Mark, her father. He’d passed away when she was just a baby, so young she couldn’t possibly remember him.

“Mom?” she whispered, her brow furrowed. “I know him.”

I felt a strange chill. “Honey, that’s your dad. Remember? I told you about him.”

A sad girl hugging herself | Source: Pexels

A sad girl hugging herself | Source: Pexels

“No,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I know him. From… the place.” Her eyes filled with confusion, and she stared at the picture as if trying to make sense of a dream.

My throat went dry. “What place, Emily?”

Her hands trembled, and she shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember… but he was there.”

A concerned woman talking to her scared child | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman talking to her scared child | Source: Midjourney

My mind raced. Emily couldn’t have known Mark. She was just a baby when he died. But someone who looked like him… my thoughts shifted sharply. Mark’s brother, Jake.

He looked so much like Mark that they could’ve been twins. He’d even stayed with us a few times after Mark’s death. He’d been there when I sang Emily her lullabies. A memory rushed back of Jake standing in the doorway, listening to me sing her to sleep.

Bothers posing for a photo | Source: Midjourney

Bothers posing for a photo | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t ignore the thought any longer. I had to know the truth.

The next morning, I drove out to the old family cabin, an isolated place nestled deep in the woods on the edge of town. I hadn’t been there since Mark died.

After his passing, the cabin became a hollow shell of memories I couldn’t bear to face. And no one ever had a reason to visit it. The police hadn’t even searched there when Emily disappeared; they’d assumed it was abandoned, unimportant.

A shack in the woods | Source: Pexels

A shack in the woods | Source: Pexels

I parked the car and stepped out, the silence of the forest pressing in around me. The cabin looked just as I remembered, except more rundown. But something was off.

As I moved closer, I saw one of the windows was covered with a piece of heavy cloth. I felt a surge of unease. Why would someone cover the window?

A window covered with a peace of cloth | Source: Pexels

A window covered with a peace of cloth | Source: Pexels

The door creaked as I pushed it open, and stale air hit me in a wave. Dust lay thick over everything except for a narrow trail leading toward a door in the back. My pulse quickened. I followed the trail, my shoes stirring up the dust in the silent cabin.

When I opened the back door, my stomach clenched. It was a small, dim room. And unlike the rest of the cabin, this room was eerily clean. On the floor lay a few scattered toys, faded but well-loved, as though they’d been played with often. A shiver ran through me.

A dim room with a small window | Source: Pexels

A dim room with a small window | Source: Pexels

This was where she’d been.

I backed out of the room, heart pounding, and reached for my phone. Within minutes, the police were on their way.

Hours later, I sat with Emily in the living room as the officers worked at the cabin. She was quiet, her fingers clutching the edge of her blanket. When I took her hand, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with a sadness that broke my heart.

The police searching a cabin in the woods | Source: Midjourney

The police searching a cabin in the woods | Source: Midjourney

“Mommy… I remember now,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “I remember the man.”

I swallowed hard. “Who was it, sweetheart?”

Her voice shook. “It was Uncle Jake. He… he looked like Daddy, but different. He… he would bring me food, but he never spoke. He just sat there, outside the door. He… he used to hum that song.”

A sad girl | Source: Pexels

A sad girl | Source: Pexels

The police confirmed it that evening. They had enough evidence in the cabin to make an arrest. When they found Jake, he confessed, claiming he had taken Emily to “protect” her, that he’d wanted to be the one she depended on.

It was twisted and sick, and knowing he’d been that close to us all those years made my skin crawl.

A sad man covering his face with his hands | Source: Pexels

A sad man covering his face with his hands | Source: Pexels

When they told Emily, she broke down, sobbing, the weight of years of silence finally releasing. I held her close, rocking her as she cried, whispering over and over, “You’re safe now. No one will ever take you away again.”

The days that followed were quiet, but a warmth was beginning to bloom again between us. Emily started to talk more, little by little, and she would hum that old lullaby at night, almost as if testing if it was safe to hear it again.

A woman drawing with her daughter | Source: Pexels

A woman drawing with her daughter | Source: Pexels

One evening, as we sat by the window, she leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder. I began to hum the lullaby softly, how I used to when she was little. She looked up at me, and for the first time, I saw a spark of peace in her eyes.

“I love you, Mommy,” she whispered.

I held her close, tears slipping down my cheeks. “I love you too, sweetheart. Forever.”

A girl kissing her mother | Source: Freepik

A girl kissing her mother | Source: Freepik

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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