Matthew filed for divorce from Anne when she couldn’t give him a son, but he still lived in their house. One day, she met Harry, an old friend from school, and eventually realized how much better she was without Matthew. Years later, Anne accidentally ran into her ex-husband and couldn’t recognize him.
“Oh my God! Harry! It’s so nice to see you!” Anne exclaimed when she accidentally stumbled into her old school friend on the street. She had left her five girls with her mother, a rare break for her, and wanted to get a cup of coffee on the streets of Seattle.
“Anne, it’s lovely to see you too! Hey, would you want to get some coffee and catch up?” Harry answered, and she nodded immediately. They went into the café and chit-chatted until Harry asked about her family.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oh… that’s actually a difficult subject,” she began.
“Well, raising five children is not easy for anyone,” Harry commented, knowing a bit of her from social media and such.
“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray.
“Yeah, sure. That’s hard. But it’s more than that,” Anne continued. “Matthew changed after the birth of our twins. They’re 9 and they barely speak to their father. I think they’re scared of him.”
“I don’t understand,” Harry said.
“Matthew wanted a boy, and we hoped, but we had two beautiful girls instead. That’s why we got pregnant again and again, but we kept having girls. After our fifth daughter was born, Matthew became another man. He filed for divorce, and I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Anne explained about her husband, her hand wiping the sweat forming on her forehead.
“Wow. That’s rough. But think about this, you’ll be better off without him, right? I mean if he hasn’t been speaking to your eldest girls, then he couldn’t have been the best father to the rest. You already raised them on your own,” Harry encouraged. “And now that I’m in Seattle permanently, I could help. You could move in with me.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Anne’s jaw dropped. She didn’t expect such an offer from Harry, especially since they had just met again after many years. But she knew back in school that he always had a huge crush on her. Still, that offer was too generous and kind. She couldn’t accept it. She changed the subject, and they talked about his successful life.
Meanwhile, things at her house got even worse over the next few weeks. They were divorcing, but Matthew still lived with her, acting like he was single, partying, making noise at odd hours, waking the girls, and being a menace to them.
Anne would talk to Harry all the time, and his offer still stood. But when Matthew decided to bring a girl over to their marital home, Anne was done. She called Harry, packed, and left the house with all the girls.
Their divorce got more complicated when she took Matthew to court to get their big house back. Despite her living in Harry’s house, her soon-to-be ex-husband didn’t deserve to keep their big home. The judge granted her every request based on Matthew’s horrible lifestyle and gave her full custody without question.
Eventually, she and Harry fell in love, and he bought an even bigger home for their family. When she and the girls moved in with him, she put her house up for rent and stopped thinking about Matthew for many years.
***
A year after marrying Harry, Anne had their son, Alan, who was the most beautiful boy in the world, and he had five big sisters adoring him at every moment. Anne couldn’t have been happier.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
More time passed, and one day, she picked Alan up from preschool and decided to drop by the mall to buy him new shoes. The girls were busy with their extracurriculars, so it was only mother and son.
Anne never imagined she would run into Matthew there. He was working at the pretzel shop, in charge of distributing free samples at the mall, and Alan ran up to him asking for some.
“Alan, don’t run away from me like that,” she said to him before catching a glimpse of Matthew’s surprised eyes.
“Anne?”
“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray. It didn’t make sense. Matthew worked in an office as an executive. He earned a decent amount of money. He was required to pay tons in child support, but he never did, and Anne didn’t care. She had more than enough for her girls. But he wouldn’t be able to pay what was required with a minimum wage job at the mall.
“I’m working here,” he said and looked at the boy holding her with one hand and munching on a pretzel with the other. “Is this your son?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Yes, this is Alan,” Anne answered, feeling an intense pride that she had a son that wasn’t his. “He’s Harry’s kid.”
“Oh, nice to meet you, Alan,” Matthew said, looking down and giving the kid a weird look. Of course, it was not Anne’s fault that she gave birth to girls. The sperm determines the gender, and everyone knows that. But Matthew had decided to blame her for years and checked out of their marriage because he wanted a boy, as if gender was important at all.
Luckily, the girls now had an actual father figure, thanks to Harry, who loved them dearly from the first moment they met. They didn’t need him, and Anne never had to see him.
“Listen, Anne. I didn’t want to ask this now. I wanted to take you to coffee or something. But I’m desperate. I lost everything due to my lifestyle, and I was wondering if we could sell our old house,” Matthew asked, his head down in shame.
“Oh… well, it’s currently being rented. But I’ll think about it,” Anne said. “We have to go now. I’ll call you about the house.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
She grabbed Alan’s hand tightly and walked away from the man who didn’t know what he had thrown away. But she was going to be the bigger person. She sold the house and gave him half its worth, although legally, she could keep the entire thing. But something in her gut told her to do the right thing.
Eventually, Matthew asked to see the girls, but none of them wanted that. The twins were teenagers who grew to hate him, and the rest followed their big sisters’ footsteps. Matthew stopped asking about them and stopped calling after a while. They never saw him again. He wasn’t family.
What can we learn from this story?
- Family is more than just DNA. Matthew didn’t want to be a father to his children, and Harry stepped up for the girls.
- You might regret your actions. Matthew lost everything, including his high-paying job, and it was clear he regretted what he did, but he couldn’t take it back.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
My Best Friend Married My Ex-husband — Then She Called Me in the Middle of the Night, Terrified
When Stacey married Lily’s ex-husband, Alan, it seemed like the ultimate betrayal. But a late-night call filled with terror revealed a dark secret neither woman was prepared for, forcing Lily and Stacey to confront the man who shattered both their lives.
Alan and I had been married for seven years. Seven long years that gave me two beautiful daughters, Mia (5) and Sophie (4), and left me with a heart fractured in ways I didn’t know were possible.
A couple | Source: Unsplash
At first, Alan was my dream man. He had this magnetic charm, the kind that made people lean in just a little closer when he spoke. He knew how to make me feel like I was the only woman in the world. But that glow didn’t last.
By year five, I noticed the cracks. Alan would come home late, his excuses so thin they were practically see-through. Work trips that didn’t make sense. Texts he wouldn’t let me see. Then, one night, I got the confirmation I’d been dreading. A single blonde hair on his suit jacket. Not mine.
My heart screamed with rage. I knew something was wrong. I knew he was destroying everything we built.
A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney
I confronted him. His reaction? A cold denial, followed by an avalanche of gaslighting. “You’re imagining things, Lily. Stop being so insecure,” he yelled once.
But it wasn’t just my imagination. It was real. Silently, I vowed to myself that I would not let him make me doubt my instincts.
The final straw came when I caught him red-handed. The image of him with her — Kara, a woman I didn’t even know — was burned into my memory. He didn’t even apologize. He just packed a bag and left as though nothing had happened.
And just like that, Alan abandoned me and our daughters. For a year and a half, I struggled to rebuild my life. Therapy, late nights working to support the girls, and a constant ache in my chest that wouldn’t go away.
Then came the news that made my stomach churn: Alan had married Stacey, my best friend.
A newlywed couple | Source: Unsplash
I couldn’t believe it at first. Stacey had been my confidante during my marriage, the one person I told everything to. She knew everything about me… about how I felt like I was losing Alan, how I feared he was cheating, and how devastated I was when he finally left.
A painful realization cut through me, “How could she do this to me?”
When Stacey called to tell me she was engaged to Alan, I froze. “You’re kidding, right?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“No,” she said. “Alan loves me, Lily. I hope… I hope we can still be friends.”
Friends? Was she serious?
“You’re marrying the man who broke me, Stacey. And you think I want to stay friends? Good luck with that.” I hung up before she could respond.
Grayscale shot of a woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
I thought that was the end of it. I wanted it to be the end of it. But then, a year into their marriage, my phone rang at three in the morning, dragging me back into Alan’s world.
Groggy and annoyed, I squinted at my phone. Stacey’s name flashed on the screen. I didn’t want to believe it.
“Of all the nerve, calling me at this hour?” I muttered to myself.
I debated ignoring it. Why would she, of all people, be calling me in the middle of the night? But curiosity won out, and against my better judgment, I answered.
A phone on the bed flashing an incoming call | Source: Midjourney
“Hello?” I said, my voice heavy with irritation.
What I heard next made me sit up straight.
“Lily, I need your help!” Stacey’s voice was frantic and barely coherent. “This concerns you more than you think. Please… don’t hang up. Please.”
My heart raced with anger and anticipation. What could she possibly want?
A woman seeing her phone | Source: Midjourney
“Stacey?” I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the grogginess. “What’s going on? Look, I don’t have anything to—”
“Alan… he’s not who I thought he was. He’s worse, Lily. So much worse,” she cut me off.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. What could be worse than what I already know?
“Worse? What are you talking about?” I asked.
She inhaled sharply, trying to steady her voice. “He has a wardrobe in his office. He always told me not to go in there, but yesterday I did. Lily, the inside is covered in photos. Of women. Dozens of women. Me. You. Her. And others I don’t even recognize.”
An anxious woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
A cold realization crept into my thoughts. This is about to get ugly.
I gripped the phone, my stomach turning. “Photos? What kind of photos?”
My mind raced with horrifying possibilities. What could be in those photos? How had I not found them? Was this why he’d prohibited me from entering his office when we were married?
“They all have dates and numbers written on them,” she whispered. “I think… I think he’s been cheating on me. On both of us. On everyone.”
A woman holding a photograph of another lady | Source: Midjourney
My throat felt dry. But I didn’t care. “Stacey, why are you telling me this? You married him. You knew what he was capable of.”
Her voice cracked. “Because I didn’t believe you! I thought you were bitter. But now, I’m scared, Lily. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out I’ve seen it. Please, can I come over? I don’t feel safe.”
Stacey showed up at my house less than an hour later, her face pale and drawn. She was clutching her phone like a lifeline.
“Start talking,” I said, crossing my arms. My eyes bore into her, demanding the full truth.
She sat on my couch, wringing her hands. “I went back into his office last night. After he left for a two-day fishing trip, I managed to break into the wardrobe. He keeps it locked. But I managed to open it with a screwdriver. It wasn’t just photos, Lily. There were journals. Notes about the women. Ratings. Scores. He’s been doing this for years.”
A frustated woman | Source: Pexels
A twisted sense of validation burned inside me. “I always knew he was worse than he seemed,” I laughed.
“How many women?” My heart raced, dreading the answer.
“At least 40 during your marriage,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “And eight more since we got married. Eight women in just two months.”
The weight of betrayal pressed down on me, threatening to suffocate. It was like a punch to the gut. I thought I had moved on, but the betrayal felt fresh and raw.
“Why are you dragging me into this?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Because he’s the father of your daughters,” Stacey said. “Don’t you want to know who he really is? What he’s capable of? Don’t you want to expose him?”
A woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
Her words hit a nerve. As much as I hated Alan, I had to protect my girls. “Fine,” I said, grabbing my laptop. “Show me what you’ve got.”
For the next few hours, Stacey and I worked together, identifying the women in Alan’s photos. Reverse image searches online led us to their social media profiles. When we reached out and met some of them in person the following morning, most confirmed short, meaningless encounters with Alan.
My mind raced with horror and vindication. How could one person be so calculated?
One woman described him as “charming, until he wasn’t.” Another called him “cold and calculating.” Each story added a new layer to the monster I’d once called my husband.
A bitter laugh escaped me. “I should have known. I always knew something was off,” I told Stacey.
Two women sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
By dusk, she looked at me, her face pale. “What do we do now?”
“We’re not victims anymore. We’re survivors,” I declared. “We fight back.”
A dangerous glint entered my eyes, “Alan has no idea what’s coming,” I added.
When he returned from his fishing trip and found Stacey gone, his rage spilled over. He tried to show up at her new place, banging on the door, demanding answers. She called the police, and he left before they arrived.
The weeks that followed were a whirlwind. Stacey filed for divorce, cutting all ties with Alan. I reopened my custody case, armed with evidence of his behavior.
Alan didn’t take it well. He sent me a flurry of messages, first pleading, then threatening. I blocked him.
A woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
In court, the evidence we presented was damning. Alan’s charm couldn’t save him this time. The photos, the journals, the testimonies… every bit of it painted a clear picture of the man he truly was.
After the dust settled, Stacey and I found ourselves sitting in my living room, a quiet relief hanging between us.
“We made it through!” I said, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders
“Thank you,” Stacey said softly. “For helping me. For believing me.”
My anger softened, replaced by an unexpected understanding. We were both victims of his manipulation. But we were not weak.
A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
I looked at her, the anger I’d carried for so long finally fading. “We both deserved better than him.”
A moment of shared pain and healing passed between us.
She nodded. “So… what now?”
My spirit felt renewed, ready for whatever came next. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Now, we move on. Together.”
A fierce sense of sisterhood emerged, stronger than any betrayal. And for the first time in years, I felt free. Not just from Alan, but from the pain he had caused.
Two women hugging each other | Source: Midjourney
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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