At 58, I thought love had passed me by until I met Oliver. Just as our happiness began to bloom, his ex-wife stormed back into his life, determined to tear us apart. What followed was a battle for peace and the strength to overcome the shadows of the past. Could love conquer all?
“Another quiet morning,” I whispered to myself, gazing out the window at the ocean. The waves rolled in gently, and the breeze carried that familiar, salty scent.
It had been years since my divorce, and I had gotten used to the solitude.
“I don’t need anyone,” I would often remind myself, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard.
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My novels had taken off once I fully committed to writing. The quiet house, with only the sound of seagulls and the ocean, gave me the peace I thought I needed.
But every so often, I’d find myself staring out at the horizon, thinking.
Is this really enough?
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It wasn’t until Oliver showed up that I realized the answer might be no.
One morning, as I sipped my coffee on the porch, I noticed him for the first time. A tall, charming man, maybe a few years younger than me, strolling along the beach with his golden retriever. I watched as they passed by my house.
“Morning,” he called out, tipping his head with a friendly smile.
“Good morning,” I replied, feeling a little shy.
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Each day after that, I found myself looking out for him. I would watch as he walked along the beach, sometimes playing with his dog, sometimes just staring out at the sea. And each time, my heart would skip a beat.
“Why am I so nervous?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. “It’s just a neighbor. Calm down.”
But I couldn’t. And my feelings grew stronger every time I saw him. Still, I hesitated.
Is it possible to open up to someone again?
One afternoon, while I was trimming my roses, I heard a rustling sound and a loud thud behind me.
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Startled, I turned to see a golden blur darting into my garden.
“Charlie! Get back here!” I heard Oliver call, and seconds later, he appeared, breathless and apologetic.
“I’m so sorry! He just got away from me.”
I laughed, bending down to pet the dog.
“It’s alright. He’s cute.”
“He’s a handful, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”
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“Do you… enjoy reading?” I asked, my voice tentative, hoping to keep the conversation alive.
Oliver chuckled. “I’m a writer. It comes with the territory.”
“We are colleagues!” My eyes lit up. “I’m a novelist too.”
We talked about our favorite books, about writing, and soon enough, the conversation flowed easily.
“You know,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t usually do this, but… would you like to have dinner sometime?”
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Oliver raised an eyebrow, surprised but pleased.
“I’d love to.”
Just like that, the plan was set.
***
The next evening was perfect. We laughed and shared stories. Maybe this is what I’ve been missing all along. But just as I started to relax, a woman appeared at our table. Her eyes were hard, and she looked straight at Oliver.
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“We need to talk. Now,” she demanded, completely ignoring me.
“Excuse me, we’re in the middle of…” I started.
“Not now,” she snapped, her eyes never even glancing in my direction. It was as if I didn’t exist.
I felt my face flush, my words stuck in my throat. Oliver looked flustered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
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“I’m sorry, Haley,” he muttered, standing up awkwardly. “I have to go.”
I watched, speechless, as he followed her out, leaving me sitting there, feeling invisible. The chatter of the restaurant buzzed around me, but I was numb, frozen in place.
The empty chair across from me seemed like a reflection of how abandoned I felt.
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***
Two days had passed since that awkward dinner, and Oliver still hadn’t called. The silence weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. I felt hurt, confused, and, honestly, a little humiliated.
My mind kept replaying the scene, the way he left without a proper explanation, the way that woman had dismissed me as if I didn’t matter.
I sat at my desk, trying to focus on my writing, but it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to that night.
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Had I made a mistake inviting him? Was he just playing with me? Who was that woman? And why did he leave with her without even a real explanation?
I was about to give up and close my laptop when I heard a knock at the door. My heart raced as I stood up, part of me hoping, and part of me dreading what might come next.
When I opened the door, Oliver was standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hand.
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I stared at him, unsure of what to say.
“I’m sorry, Haley,” he began.
“That woman from the other night… She’s my ex-wife, Rebecca. She shows up like that sometimes, trying to stir things up and ruin my relationships. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I had to leave with her.”
I tried to mask my emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me that then?”
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“I panicked. I should have explained. I’m sorry.”
He paused, offering the flowers.
“I want to make it up to you. I have a literary event coming up. Will you come? It’ll be quieter, and maybe we can spend some time together.”
I hesitated a bit but then nodded.
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***
I had dressed carefully, hoping for a peaceful evening, a chance to talk to Oliver without interruptions. Maybe, tonight will be different.
Oliver greeted me with a warm smile. “I’m glad you came.”
I smiled back, trying to push aside the unease I still felt.
The evening started well. Oliver’s presentation was engaging. For a while, I forgot about everything that had happened.
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But just as I began to feel at ease, the mood in the room shifted.
I saw the same woman from that night at the restaurant. Rebecca. She strode in with a determined look on her face, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Oliver. My stomach dropped.
Without hesitation, she marched over to where Oliver and I stood.
“You thought you could just move on, didn’t you, Oliver?” she spat, glaring at him.
The room grew quiet, and all eyes were on us.
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“Rebecca, this isn’t the time or place.”
Oliver took a step toward her, trying to calm her down, but it only made things worse.
“Time or place? How dare you?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a liar and a cheat! You think you can just forget about everything we had? You think you can walk away from me?”
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People began to whisper, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama.
Rebecca’s eyes turned to me then.
“And you,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “you’re just another one of his mistakes.”
Before I could even respond, she grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby table and threw it in my face. The cold liquid soaked my hair and dress.
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Gasps filled the room. For a second, I just stood there, too humiliated to move. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and all I wanted to do was disappear.
Security rushed in and quickly escorted Rebecca out, but the damage was already done.
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I felt small and exposed. The warmth I had felt earlier was gone, replaced by a crushing sense of shame. I wiped my face and looked at Oliver, who stood there, silent and torn.
“What is going on, Oliver? Why is she doing this? And what aren’t you telling me?”
Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I… I haven’t told you everything,” he admitted, his eyes full of regret.
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“Rebecca and I have been separated for a while, but during that time, I had an affair. It was a mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Then Rebecca came back into my life and took control. She managed everything. My finances. My schedule. She used my guilt to keep me trapped.”
I felt a heavy weight settle over me and realized how deep that mess went.
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“I’ve been trying to leave her for good, but she refuses to let go,” he continued. “I didn’t want to drag you into all of this.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Oliver,” I whispered. “I’m not ready for this kind of drama in my life.”
Without waiting for his response, I turned and walked out, the cool evening air hitting my face as I stepped outside.
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***
Several days had passed since the disastrous evening at the literary event, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Oliver. Despite everything that had happened, I missed him.
I tried to push the feelings away, to convince myself that walking out had been the right choice, but the ache of missing him wouldn’t fade.
One afternoon, as I sat by the window, a flicker of movement caught my eye. It was at Oliver’s house. I watched as Rebecca hurried back and forth, swiftly loading boxes into a car.
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Is he moving out? Why is she here?
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I had to tell him that he needed to be stronger, to stand up for himself, and to stop letting people like Rebecca control his life.
Summoning my courage, I stepped outside and made my way toward his house.
But as I approached, something felt different. Oliver’s car pulled up, and when he stepped out, there was a calm, resolute look on his face—one I hadn’t seen before. I hesitated, keeping my distance, watching as he walked straight to Rebecca.
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“It’s over, Rebecca,” I heard him say. “Take the money, take the house—whatever you want. But you will not interfere in my life anymore.”
Rebecca froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he said, his voice unwavering. “If you don’t respect that, I’ll file a restraining order. This ends today.”
I stood there, shocked. That was a side of Oliver I had never seen.
At that moment, I knew. He had finally taken control of his life, and that was exactly what I needed to see.
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My Kids Said They Wished I Never Existed, and the Next Day Their Wish Came True — Story of the Day
My kids told me they wished I didn’t exist, and those words cut deeper than anything I’d ever heard. They were angry, careless—but I decided to take their wish seriously. I vanished from their lives, leaving no trace. It was time they learned what life would be like without Mom.
I’d heard it countless times—people saying housewives had it easy. They stayed home, relaxed, and lived off their husbands’ hard work. What a joke!
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Let me tell you, my being a stay-at-home mom wasn’t just a job; it was an endless marathon with no breaks. My days were a blur of cleaning, cooking, managing tantrums, and juggling a thousand other things.
Tom, my sweet but stubborn five-year-old, was at that age where every little thing was a battle.
Eliza, on the other hand, was teetering on the edge of her pre-teen years—full of sass and mood swings.
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And my husband, Justin? He thought his paycheck excused him from everything else. It was exhausting.
That evening, as usual, we sat down for dinner together. Sharing our day had become a routine, though it often came with surprises.
I looked at Tom, who was already playing with his peas. “Tom, how was preschool today?” I asked, trying to sound cheerful.
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He shrugged. “It was okay, but Miss Jackson might call you tomorrow.”
That caught my attention. “Why would she call me?” I asked, putting down my fork.
“I just wanted to pet a dog outside, but Miss Jackson said you shouldn’t touch stray dogs because they can have rab—rabai—” Tom paused, frowning.
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“Rabies,” Eliza said with an exaggerated eye roll.
Tom nodded. “Yeah, rabies.”
I leaned forward. “And why does that mean she might call me?”
Tom hesitated, then blurted, “Well, I didn’t like what she said, so I bit her.”
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I stared at him, shocked. “You bit your teacher?” My voice rose without meaning to.
Tom nodded, completely unbothered. “She said rabies spreads by bites. I wanted to show her.”
“Mom, you gave birth to a lunatic,” Eliza muttered, smirking.
“Don’t talk about your brother like that,” I said firmly. Then I turned to Justin, who was busy eating. “Justin, do you have anything to say about this?”
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He glanced up briefly. “You’re handling it great, honey,” he said, patting my hand.
I sighed, turning back to Tom. “Tom, we’ve talked about this. You can’t bite people. It hurts, and it’s wrong. Next time, use words to express how you feel.”
Finally, I faced Eliza. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” she said, barely looking up.
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“That’s all?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m sleeping over at Nancy’s tomorrow, remember?” she added casually.
“Yes, I remember,” I said, feeling my energy drain.
The next day started badly and only got worse. When I went into Tom’s room to check if he had cleaned up like I’d asked, it looked like a tornado had hit it.
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Toys, clothes, and books were everywhere. I felt my patience slipping, but there wasn’t time to deal with it.
I had to apologize to Miss Jackson for Tom biting her, which was embarrassing enough.
Then, as I finally sat down to breathe, the phone rang. Eliza’s school informed me she had skipped classes. My anger boiled over. By the time they got home, I was ready for a serious talk.
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“Wait, both of you, stop right there,” I said as Tom and Eliza headed to their rooms. My voice made them freeze.
“What is it now?” Eliza asked, sounding irritated.
“Let’s start with Tom,” I said, turning to him. “I saw your room. It’s a disaster. We agreed that if you didn’t keep it clean, I’d take away your games. So, your console is mine until you show me you can keep your room tidy.”
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Tom’s eyes went wide. “What? No! That’s not fair!” he yelled, crossing his arms.
Eliza smirked. “Nice job, Tom,” she said with a mocking tone.
“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, young lady,” I snapped. “I got a call from your school today. They told me you skipped class.”
“It was one time! Just one!” Eliza shouted, her face red with anger.
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“You’re grounded for a week,” I said firmly. “No sleepover at Nancy’s.”
“You can’t do this! ‘’ve been planning that forever!” Eliza screamed, clenching her fists.
“Then you shouldn’t have skipped class,” I replied calmly.
“I hate you! I wish you didn’t exist!” she yelled before stomping off to her room and slamming the door.
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“Yeah! Me too!” Tom shouted, running to his own room.
I stood there, tears welling up. My chest felt heavy, but I swallowed the lump in my throat.
When Justin got home, I recounted everything. He listened quietly, barely responding.
“Well?” I asked, desperate for some support.
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“Maybe you were too hard on them,” he said, shrugging. “They’re just kids.”
“Did you hear me? Did you hear what Eliza said to me?” I asked, my voice shaking with anger.
“She didn’t mean it,” he said, brushing it off.
“I’ve had enough,” I said, my voice cold. “I’ll show them what it’s like when I’m not here.”
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“What are you talking about?” Justin asked, confused.
“You’ll see,” I said and walked away.
That night, as the house lay silent, I began my plan. Justin, always a heavy sleeper, didn’t stir once.
I moved quietly, gathering every single thing that was mine—clothes from the closet, photos from the walls, notebooks from the desk.
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Even my favorite mug, the one I used every morning, went into a box. I left no sign that I had ever been there.
With everything packed, I carried it all up to the attic. The attic was dusty and cramped, but I set up a mattress in the corner, arranging a small lamp and a blanket. Justin wouldn’t think to look here; he barely remembered the attic existed.
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Before settling in, I set up cameras in the kitchen and living room. I needed to see how they managed without me. This was only the beginning.
The next morning, I watched them from the camera feed as they stood in the kitchen, looking lost.
“Where’s Mom?” Tom asked, his voice unsure.
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“I don’t know,” Eliza said, glancing around. “But even her pictures are gone. The ones on the wall, too.”
“Her clothes aren’t in the closet,” Justin added, scratching his head.
Tom’s eyes widened. “Did our wish come true? Did Mom really disappear?”
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“Don’t be ridiculous,” Justin said, shaking his head.
“But she’s really gone!” Eliza insisted. “Her stuff isn’t here. There’s no sign of her at all.”
Justin pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her. This is probably some kind of joke.” But I had turned my phone off. He stared at the screen for a moment before putting it back in his pocket.
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“Okay, let’s go,” he said, sounding annoyed. “I’ll drop you off at school. We’ll figure this out later.”
Eliza hesitated. “Can I still go to Nancy’s sleepover?”
“Yes, yes. Just get in the car,” Justin said impatiently.
“Yes!” Eliza cheered. Then she grinned. “Maybe it’s better this way. Mom was always on my case anyway.”
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“That means I can play video games!” Tom shouted, jumping up.
I felt my chest tighten. My heart ached as I watched them. They didn’t miss me; they seemed relieved. They were happy I was gone.
That evening, I watched from the camera as Justin and Tom sat on the couch, laughing and playing video games.
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A pizza box sat open on the coffee table, grease stains already soaking into the cardboard.
I noticed Tom eating a big slice loaded with cheese. My stomach tightened. He was lactose intolerant. Justin, distracted by the game, had clearly forgotten.
The next morning, my fears were confirmed. Tom was curled up on the couch, pale and groaning.
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Justin scrambled to find medicine, muttering under his breath. He ended up staying home from work, trying to comfort Tom while also cleaning up the mess.
By the third day, chaos ruled. Dishes piled up in the sink, laundry was untouched, and the kids left for school with nothing but dry cereal in their hands.
That evening, Tom sat crying on the couch, overwhelmed. Even Eliza, who usually stayed distant, looked defeated. Her hair was a mess as she clutched her empty lunchbox.
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“I miss Mom,” Tom finally said, looking up at Justin. His little face was streaked with tears, and his lip trembled.
“Me too,” Eliza added, her voice quieter than usual. She looked down at her hands. “I got my period today, and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to call Mom so bad, but I couldn’t. It made me feel awful.”
Justin sighed, leaning back on the couch. “I think this is because of what you both said. You told her you didn’t want her to exist. Now she’s showing you what that feels like.”
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“But that’s not true!” Eliza said, her voice cracking. Tears filled her eyes. “I was just mad. I didn’t mean it. I’m so stupid for saying that.”
Tom sniffled loudly. “I want Mom to come back. I’ll clean my room every day. I won’t bite anyone ever again. I promise.”
Eliza wiped her face and nodded. “I’ll stop yelling at her. I’ll listen better. I can’t live without her. I miss her so much,” she said, sobbing.
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Hearing their words broke the last bit of resolve I had. I stepped out of the shadows, standing in the doorway. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” I said, my voice firm but full of emotion.
They turned to me in shock before running into my arms. “Mom! You’re back!” they cried, hugging me tightly.
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“Really, it’s so good to see you,” Justin said, standing and walking over. “These past few days have shown me what a monumental job you do. I’ll try to make things easier for you from now on.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice soft.
“No, thank you, for everything,” Justin replied.
“Thank you, Mom! We love you so much!” the kids said together, holding on tight.
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