When Lori and Chris return from their dreamy honeymoon, they are eager to welcome life as a married couple. But as they enter their home, they find a large black box in their hallway. What would have been a wedding present turns into the very thing that destroys their relationship…
The moment we got home, everything felt perfect. The trip had been beautiful, with turquoise waters and sandy beaches, and Chris and I had no worries in the world. All we wanted to do was bask in the bliss of our wedding and the anticipation of our married life together.
As we walked through our front door, everything looked exactly as we had left it, down to the perfectly fluffed couch cushions. Except for the massive black box sitting in the hallway.
I stopped in my tracks.
“What is that?” I asked, the words hanging between us.
I would have thought that maybe it was a welcome-home gift from Chris, but the look on his face told me that it wasn’t.
Chris shrugged, frowning.
“That wasn’t here when we left,” he said.
A note rested on the hallway table beside it, the writing jagged and unfamiliar. I picked it up, feeling a chill in the air.
Lori, open this alone.
I handed it to Chris. We stared at the note, then the box, the weight of it settling into my stomach like a bad premonition.
“Are you sure it’s not from you?” I asked him.
“No, darling,” he said, his frown setting deeper.
“I don’t like this one bit,” I said.
“Well, let’s open it together,” Chris suggested, his tone calm but his eyes cautious. “Just in case it’s something dangerous, you know?”
I nodded. I trusted him completely. Whatever this was, we’d face it side by side. That’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re married, right?
Chris grabbed a knife from the kitchen and carefully cut through the tape. I held my breath as he pulled the flaps open. Inside was something soft—a huge stuffed bear, bigger than anything I’d ever seen, with a giant red heart sewn onto its chest.
We both blinked.
“Seriously?” Chris muttered, his tension evaporating.
I laughed.
“Someone must be messing with us,” he laughed.
“It’s a bit creepy, if I’m being honest,” I said.
“Yeah, let’s just throw it into the basement until we figure out what to do with it. Maybe we should donate it.”
But I wasn’t so sure. Something about the bear felt off. I stepped closer, eyeing the heart on its chest, where the words “Press Me” were embroidered in tiny script.
“I don’t know…” I hesitated, reaching toward the toy.
“Go ahead,” Chris urged when he saw the script. “It’s just a toy. Let’s see what it has to say.”
I pressed the heart, not knowing that our entire world was about to collapse.
A little girl’s voice echoed from the bear.
“Daddy? Daddy, are you there?”
Chris froze beside me. I turned to him, wanting to understand the change in his demeanor. His face was pale, his eyes wide.
The voice continued.
“Daddy, when are you coming to see me? I miss you.”
I felt my pulse hammering in my throat, making me nauseous. The room was suddenly too small. Chris wouldn’t even look at me.
“Daddy, will you come today? Will you come visit me? I’m still in the hospital…”
Then, another voice. A deeper, familiar voice cut through the silence.
“I’m busy, sweetheart. I’ll visit soon.”
It was Chris.
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
“Chris?” I whispered. “That’s you? Really?”
The recording continued.
“Please, Daddy? It’s lonely and cold here. Mom is working…”
“I can’t, Kira,” Chris said. “I have things to do.”
There was a beep, and the recording stopped. But the conversation lingered in the air like smoke, suffocating us both. I couldn’t breathe.
“Is this… is this real or some horrible joke?” I asked flatly.
Chris stared at the floor, his hands shaking.
Who was this man? Had I really married a man who had an entire past that I didn’t know about?
“Lori, I don’t know what to say,” Chris started saying.
But I barely heard him. Next to the bear, something caught my eye. A white envelope tucked into the box. I grabbed it, ripped it open, and unfolded the letter inside.
I took a deep breath before reading the letter:
Lori,
Three years ago, your husband abandoned his sick daughter and myself. Our little girl had cancer. Chris promised to help, but one day, he disappeared. He just moved to another state, leaving us behind without a word. I worked multiple jobs, trying to pay for her treatments, which cost me precious moments with my child.
In the end, nothing was enough. The surgery didn’t work. The treatment didn’t work. She died, Lori. My child died at five years old. And all she had left was this toy he sent her before vanishing from our lives. I bet he doesn’t even remember.
I felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest. My vision blurred, and the room tilted as if the ground was giving way beneath my feet.
I read on, allowing the words to slice me open.
I’m not writing this letter for revenge. I just want you to know the kind of man you’re with. If he could leave a dying child—his dying child—imagine what he’ll do to you when life gets tough. Will he leave you and your child, too? Attached are court documents. I’m filing for child support for the years he abandoned us. I’m not doing this to hurt you. But I wanted to warn you, woman to woman—this man isn’t who he says.
My mind swirled, and my nausea grew worse, but I forced myself to look at the papers inside the envelope. They were court documents, just like the letter said.
“Chris, is this true?” I asked.
But he was already backing away.
“Stand and talk to me!” I shrieked.
“I thought… I thought I could leave it all behind, Lori,” he said. “I swear, I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
“Leave it behind?” I spat the words at him, disbelief crashing over me. “You had a daughter. A sick daughter! And you just left her!”
He shook his head, as if trying to shake the truth away.
“I thought I could start over, Lori,” he said.
“You thought you could erase them? Pretend like they never existed? Just move on, like nothing happened?”
Visions of a sick child clouded my brain.
Chris’s silence answered my question. I felt disgust churn in my stomach. The man I had just married, the man that I thought I knew so well…
Now, he was nothing but a stranger.
“I can’t do this,” I said. “I can’t stay married to you. I can’t stay married to a man who could abandon his own child. For goodness’ sake, Chris. I can’t even look at you.”
“Lori, please,” he begged. “I can explain it all.”
“Just take your things and get out,” I said.
“Lori, you don’t mean that. We just got married. We can fix this. We can talk it through.”
“No,” I said. “You lied to me. You lied to her. You let that little girl die thinking that you didn’t care about her. I can’t be with someone like that… I can’t think about having a family with someone like that.”
Chris opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He turned away, and I watched as he gathered his things in silence.
When he finally walked out the door, the house felt unnervingly quiet. I stood alone in the hallway, the black box still open, the stuffed bear sitting there like some twisted reminder of everything that had unfolded.
I made myself a cup of tea and went to sit outside on the porch. I couldn’t imagine that I was here, sitting and thinking about filing for divorce the next day.
I had been married for a solid 17 days. A part of me wondered if Chris and I could have moved past this…
But what would it say about me? That I didn’t see anything wrong with a man who left his family just because things were dark and difficult?
No. I couldn’t do that.
What would you have done?
My Husband Gifted Me Money for Breast Implants and a Nasty Note for My Birthday—I Taught Him a Harsh Lesson
Nikkie thought she had the perfect marriage until her husband, Jack, gave her a cruel birthday gift that shattered her self-esteem. Jack’s obsession with perfection pushed Nikkie to devise a clever plan to reclaim her worth and teach him an unforgettable lesson.
I’ve been married to Jack for over a year, but we’ve been together for six. Initially, it felt like a fairy tale. Jack was my best friend, my confidant, and the love of my life. Our relationship was filled with laughter, late-night talks, and a bond that felt unbreakable.
If someone had told me a year ago that my prince charming would turn into a superficial stranger, I would have laughed it off. But here I am, on the brink of unraveling a story that broke me to pieces.
It began six months ago when Jack’s innocent trip to the gym spiraled into an obsession that shattered my self-esteem and brought our once-perfect world crashing down.
It started subtly. Jack would scroll through Instagram, showing me pictures of fitness models with the “perfect” 90-60-90 figures. “Look at her, Nikkie,” he’d say. “Isn’t she stunning? Imagine if you had a body like that.”
I laughed it off at first, thinking it was just harmless admiration. But the comments kept coming. “You’d look amazing with a little more up top,” Jack said one evening. “Have you ever thought about getting breast implants?”
Each remark felt like a tiny dagger. I started to see myself through Jack’s eyes, and it wasn’t pretty. My confidence dwindled to nothing.
But the last straw came on my birthday a month ago. The day started with excitement. Jack woke me up with a bouquet of flowers and handed me an envelope. Expecting a heartfelt letter or a romantic gesture, I tore it open, only to find a stack of cash and a note: “Time to upgrade those mosquito bites.”
My jaw dropped. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, my stomach churning with disbelief and fury. Jack was beaming, expecting gratitude.
“Do you like it?” he asked, eager and oblivious.
“You want me to get… breast implants?” I managed to ask.
He nodded, missing the storm brewing inside me. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. You’d look amazing with a little enhancement.”
I swallowed hard, forcing down the bile. “Thank you, Jack,” I said, my voice steady. “This is… unexpected.”
Over the next few days, I played the part of the grateful wife perfectly. “I called the clinic today,” I’d tell him casually over dinner. Jack’s eyes would light up every time, not noticing the underlying steel in my voice.
Meanwhile, I was formulating my plan. Instead of booking a plastic surgeon, I used the money for a complete medical check-up. I deserved to know I was healthy, inside and out, regardless of Jack’s superficial standards.
With the rest of the money, I invested in myself. I joined a gym to feel strong and confident again. I didn’t tell Jack about my newfound routine. I woke up early, hit the gym, and returned home before he noticed.
One evening, as I was getting ready for bed, Jack caught me off guard. “You seem different lately,” he remarked. “I can’t wait to see the final result.”
“You’ll see soon enough,” I replied, smiling to myself.
On the morning of my supposed surgery, I left the house with a bright smile. “Wish me luck,” I said, giving Jack a kiss. He hugged me tightly, whispering, “You’re going to look incredible. This is going to change everything.”
“You’re right,” I said, a steely edge to my voice.
Instead of heading to a clinic, I pampered myself at a luxurious spa. Meanwhile, I had arranged for a locksmith to change the locks on our house.
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