Woman Tires of Admirer Who Joins Her Jog Every Morning but Desperately Searches for Him When He Doesn’t Show Up — Story of the Day

Rebecca coped with her depression by organizing her life so there’d be no time for it. She’d been doing that for years since the divorce. Until one persistent stranger decided to interfere with her strict, lonely routine. Little did Rebecca know, he’d become the one person she’d end up missing.

In the dim light of her bedroom, Rebecca lay on her back, her gaze locked on the digital clock beside her bed.

The numbers read 6:29. She took a steady breath, waiting for the clock to change.

As soon as it clicked to 6:30, the alarm went off, but Rebecca was quick to silence it.

She sat up, threw the covers aside, and rose from the bed with practiced precision.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

First things first—Rebecca smoothed out her sheets, arranging every corner until the bed looked crisp and perfectly made.

She walked into the bathroom, where everything had its place.

Her toothbrush rested neatly in a holder, the soap was placed just so in a dish, and a small mirror hung over the sink.

Rebecca took a moment to look at her own reflection, her expression calm but distant.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She was forty-seven, with lines of experience and resilience etched onto her face.

Seven years had passed since her divorce, and though the pain had dulled, it had left behind a scar.

Her response to the heartache had been order, discipline, and strict routine. These things brought her a sense of control, something solid to hold onto when life felt chaotic.

At exactly seven o’clock, Rebecca laced up her running shoes, plugged in her headphones, and stepped outside, ready for her morning jog.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For years, these runs had been her escape, a time to strengthen her body while listening to audiobooks that exercised her mind.

It was her shield against sadness, each step a way to push forward.

But for the past month, something had started to disrupt her carefully designed routine—a neighbor named Charlie, who seemed determined to break through her guarded solitude, one cheerful “good morning” at a time.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Charlie’s house was right across the street, and every morning, just as Rebecca fell into her steady pace, he would come bounding out, waving his arms like an enthusiastic kid, barely managing to keep his sneakers on.

This morning was no different. Rebecca spotted him out of the corner of her eye as he hopped down his steps, shoving his shoelaces into his sneakers in a hurry to catch up.

She sighed, rolling her eyes and speeding up, hoping he’d get the hint this time. But, as always, Charlie wouldn’t be discouraged so easily.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Rebecca! Wait, it’s me!” he called, his voice cheerful as he jogged over, waving with one hand and holding his side with the other.

Rebecca pretended not to hear him and kept her eyes straight ahead, her footsteps rhythmic and focused.

But Charlie was determined, and soon he was jogging alongside her, albeit slightly out of breath.

“You’re fast… as always,” he managed between pants, giving her a crooked smile as he tried to match her pace.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca pulled out one of her earbuds and glanced at him, feigning surprise. “Oh, hi, didn’t see you there,” she replied, with just a hint of annoyance.

She had her whole morning planned out, and chatting with her neighbor hadn’t been on the agenda.

“No problem, totally my fault for being late,” Charlie said, his breath still coming in gasps.

Rebecca could see he was trying hard to keep up, yet he looked pleased just to be running alongside her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She gave a small, dismissive nod and was about to put her earbud back in when Charlie chimed in again.

“Hey, want to hear a joke?” he asked eagerly, his voice carrying that unbreakable enthusiasm she found both irritating and oddly endearing.

“You’d save more breath if you talked less while running…” she muttered, but he ignored her suggestion.

“Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?” he asked, grinning.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca sighed. She knew better than to indulge him, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because he was outstanding in his field!” Charlie delivered the punchline with a broad, triumphant grin, his eyes bright with expectation.

Rebecca paused, rolling the joke over in her mind, and against her better judgment, a chuckle escaped her lips.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She quickly tried to stifle it, but it was too late. Charlie had seen her reaction, and his face lit up with delight.

“See? You smiled! I’m getting better at this,” he noted with satisfaction, practically glowing at his small victory.

Rebecca shook her head, but her smile lingered, however brief.

“I’ll give it to you, that one wasn’t… too bad,” she conceded, still pretending to be unimpressed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Charlie threw a fist in the air, grinning as if he’d won a prize.

“Finally! Progress!” he cheered, laughing.

Rebecca picked up her pace again, leaving Charlie struggling to keep up.

Each morning, Rebecca found herself looking forward to the sight of Charlie bounding out of his house with his untied sneakers and his cheerful grin.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His silly jokes that once made her roll her eyes had grown on her, and she found herself smiling more often, even laughing aloud, which was something she hadn’t done in a long time.

More surprising to her, she had started to slow her pace—just a bit—so they could talk longer.

Charlie’s enthusiasm and light-heartedness had a way of softening the strict walls Rebecca had built around herself.

He had even managed to slip past her strict routine, something she thought no one could do.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

As she laced up her shoes and looked out the window, Rebecca found herself glancing at his house, as she had started doing most mornings. Today, though, something felt different.

The door to his house was shut tight, and there was no sign of him.

She checked her watch and waited, telling herself not to worry. But after a few more minutes passed, doubt crept in.

This wasn’t like Charlie—he was always so excited to join her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She hesitated, feeling a strange mix of concern and disappointment, but finally, she walked over to his house and knocked on the door.

She tapped her foot as she waited, glancing around and hoping he’d just forgotten to wake up. But there was no answer.

She rang the doorbell again, then leaned close to the window, peeking inside, but the rooms were still and quiet.

“Charlie! Are you there?” she called, trying to keep her voice steady. “Come on, you’re missing our jog!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She hoped he’d suddenly appear, laughing and apologizing for being late. But all she heard was silence.

Just then, an elderly voice spoke from nearby.

“Who’s shouting out here?” Startled, Rebecca turned to see Mrs. Lewis, an elderly woman who lived next door to Charlie, watching her with curiosity.

“Oh, Mrs. Lewis,” Rebecca said, feeling embarrassed for the outburst.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I usually run with Charlie, but he didn’t show up today. Maybe he overslept,” she added, her voice quieter, almost as if she were speaking to herself.

She felt a pang of worry, wondering if maybe he simply didn’t want to run with her anymore.

Mrs. Lewis shook her head, looking concerned.

“Overslept? Oh no, dear. He was taken to the hospital by ambulance last night.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat.

“The hospital? What happened to him?”

Mrs. Lewis sighed, clearly upset herself.

“I’m not sure. I only saw the ambulance pull up and take him away. It’s such a shame. Poor man lives alone with no one to watch over him.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca stood there, processing the news, a wave of guilt and worry washing over her.

She had only known Charlie for a short while, but in that time, he had somehow become a part of her life, someone she looked forward to seeing.

Without a second thought, Rebecca thanked Mrs. Lewis, turned around, and headed back home to grab her purse and keys. There was only one hospital nearby, and she needed to find him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca felt her heart racing as she walked through the bustling halls of the hospital, the antiseptic smell filling her nose and making her even more anxious. She took a steadying breath as she approached the reception desk, hoping to sound calm.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice just a bit shaky. “I’m looking for a patient who was admitted last night. His name is Charlie.”

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, looking over her glasses. “Do you have a last name, ma’am?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca felt herself blush. “No, sorry… I only know him as Charlie. We just… met recently,” she admitted, realizing how strange it must sound.

The receptionist gave her a slightly skeptical look. “You do know that only family or close relatives are typically allowed to visit patients, right?”

“I… I’m his girlfriend,” she blurted, surprising even herself.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The receptionist’s eyes softened as a small smile crept onto her face. “Girlfriend, huh?” She tapped a few keys on her computer, a slight twinkle in her eyes.

“You might as well learn his last name, then. You’ll need it if he’s going to be around,” she said with a wink.

“Charlie Sanders. Room 113. I’ll take you there.”

Rebecca felt her heart flip as she whispered a quick “thank you” and followed the receptionist down the hall.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Before they even reached the room, she could hear Charlie’s familiar laughter, his voice carrying through the doorway as he shared a joke with someone in the room.

The receptionist rapped gently on the wall to announce Rebecca’s arrival.

“Charlie, there’s a lady here to see you… she says she’s your girlfriend,” she added, a hint of playfulness in her voice as she glanced at Rebecca.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Charlie’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Yes, yes! Rebecca, come on in. Of course, she’s here for me,” he said with a grin, gesturing for her to come closer.

Rebecca felt a rush of relief as she walked over to sit beside him.

Charlie looked tired but cheerful, as if the hospital gown and the IV were just minor inconveniences in his day.

She glanced at him, both relieved and exasperated. “Girlfriend, huh?” Charlie teased, raising his eyebrows playfully.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca gave him a mock-scowl. “I had to say something to get in here, didn’t I? And you missed our jog this morning! What happened?” she asked, a touch of concern creeping into her voice.

Charlie sighed, shifting slightly in the bed.

“Well… it’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but those jogs? Not exactly great for my health.”

Rebecca’s face fell. “What do you mean?”

He glanced down, looking a little sheepish.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I have a heart condition. Doctor’s orders are to avoid anything too intense… like trying to keep up with you,” he admitted with a wry smile.

Her heart sank, and she shook her head in disbelief.

“Charlie, why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t have been running at all!”

Charlie gave a small, lopsided smile.

“Well… if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have seen you. I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca felt her face soften, a mix of surprise and affection warming her heart.

“So you were willing to risk your health just to talk to me?” she asked quietly, looking him in the eye.

He nodded, his expression turning serious.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“I’ve watched you every morning, jogging at the same time, like clockwork. I’ve seen you give things to charity, help the neighbors. You’re… you’re someone special, Rebecca.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca felt a lump form in her throat, his words striking her in a way she hadn’t expected.

She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Charlie,” she said, her voice soft, “you don’t need to run to spend time with me. How about dinner at my place instead?”

Charlie’s face broke into a warm smile.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Now that sounds a lot safer for my heart,” he replied, his eyes shining. “I think the doctor would definitely approve.”

Rebecca chuckled, feeling the tension in her chest ease as they shared a smile.

“I hope so,” she murmured, looking forward to an evening that didn’t involve heart-stopping runs but instead a quiet meal with someone who, in a short time, had become surprisingly important to her.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Lucy once thought she had a loving family and a happy life. But after the divorce —she had nothing. It felt like there was nothing left for Lucy in this world. But then, everything changed when a car nearly hit her. That’s when she met a long-lost friend, and her life began to take a new turn.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers 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. 

My Husband Dumped Me as Soon as He Walked into the Hospital Ward and Saw Our Newborn Twin Daughters

“You tricked me!” Instead of celebrating our newborn twin daughters, my husband lashed out and accused me of cheating on him. With venomous words and a cruel exit, Mark shattered our family. Now, I’m going to make him pay the price for abandoning us.

I lay in the sterile white hospital bed, my heart full though my body ached. I was exhausted, but it all felt worthwhile as I stared down at the beautiful twin girls pressed to each of my sides.

A woman holding her newborn twin girls | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her newborn twin girls | Source: Midjourney

The babies cooed softly and tears of joy spilled down my face. After years of infertility and a long, difficult pregnancy, I was finally a mom. It was the best feeling in the world!

I reached for my phone and typed a message to Mark, my husband: They’re here. Two beautiful girls. Can’t wait for you to meet them.

I hit send, a contented smile creeping across my face as I imagined his excitement.

A cell phone | Source: Pexels

A cell phone | Source: Pexels

This was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of our lives, and I never could’ve imagined how swiftly it would turn into the worst.

A while later, the door clicked open, and there he was. But instead of joy, Mark’s expression was unreadable — stony, like a man called into a meeting he didn’t want to attend.

“Hey,” I said softly, mustering a smile. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

A woman with her newborn twins | Source: Midjourney

A woman with her newborn twins | Source: Midjourney

Mark finally looked at the twins, his jaw tightening. Disappointment flickered across his face before his lips curled in disgust.

“What the hell is this?” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

Confusion welled inside me, pressing heavily against my ribs. “What do you mean? They’re our daughters! What’s going on with you, Mark?”

His gaze turned sharp.

A man standing in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

I could see the anger simmering beneath the surface, ready to explode. And when it did, it was like a dam breaking.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on: you tricked me!” he snarled. “You didn’t tell me you were having girls!”

I blinked, stunned. “What does it matter? They’re healthy. They’re perfect!”

I reached for his hand, desperate to tether him to this moment. But he yanked it away, disgust etched across his face like a bad tattoo.

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

“It matters a lot! This isn’t what I wanted, Lindsey! I thought we were having boys!” His voice rose, bouncing off the cold walls, and I felt every syllable slice through me. “This whole family was supposed to carry on my name!”

My heart sank. “You’re serious? You’re angry because… they’re girls?”

“Darn right, I am!” He stepped back like the sight of the babies physically repelled him. “Everyone knows only boys can carry on a legacy! You… you cheated on me, didn’t you? These can’t be mine.”

A man gesturing angrily | Source: Midjourney

A man gesturing angrily | Source: Midjourney

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Air escaped my lungs as if he’d knocked it clean out of me.

“How could you even say that?” I whispered, tears blurring my vision. “You’re really accusing me of cheating because I had daughters?”

But he was already pacing toward the door, his hands clenching and unclenching in frustration.

“I’m not raising someone else’s kids,” he spat, his voice thick with finality. “I’m out.”

A man yelling in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

A man yelling in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

Before I could respond — before I could beg or scream or cry — he was gone. The door slammed shut behind him with a deafening thud. And just like that, everything I thought I knew unraveled.

I looked down at my daughters, cradled in my arms, their tiny faces serene.

“It’s okay, sweethearts,” I whispered, though my heart felt anything but okay.

And for the first time since they were born, I began to cry.

An upset woman with her twin daughters | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman with her twin daughters | Source: Midjourney

Mark disappeared. No calls. No messages. The only word I got of him was a rumor filtering through mutual friends that he was on vacation somewhere sunny, drinking cocktails with the same guys who toasted us at our wedding.

That’s right; he dumped me and went on vacation. It wasn’t just the betrayal. It was the ease with which he walked away, as though our life together had been a minor inconvenience.

But the worst was yet to come.

Close up of a woman's face | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney

I was back at home, settling into a routine with the girls, when I got the first message from Mark’s mother, Sharon.

I was so relieved! Sharon was a stern woman, and I knew Mark would have to come around if his mother was on my side.

My fingers shook with anticipation as I played Sharon’s voicemail. Her voice dripped through my phone like venom.

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

“You ruined everything,” Sharon snarled. “Mark deserved sons, everyone knows that. How could you do this to him? To our family? How could you betray my son like this?”

I was so shocked, and I dropped my phone. Her words cut deeper than any insult. To them, I hadn’t just had daughters, but I had failed. And they wanted to punish me for it.

I stared down at my phone, trying to process this new avenue of attack.

A woman staring | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring | Source: Midjourney

I jumped when my phone started ringing. It was Sharon. I let it ring and watched as a new voicemail notification popped up after the ringing stopped.

Then the text messages started rolling in, each one more vicious than the last. Sharon called me every name under the sun as she lambasted me for cheating on Mark, for giving birth to daughters, for not being a good wife… it went on and on.

Mark’s entire family had turned against me. I was all alone.

Message notifications on a cell phone | Source: Pexels

Message notifications on a cell phone | Source: Pexels

I tried to keep it together, but the nursery became my sanctuary and prison at night. I’d sit in the rocking chair, holding my daughters close, whispering promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I murmured repeatedly, the words as much for me as for them. “We’ll be okay. Everything is going to turn out just fine, you’ll see.”

But there were nights I wasn’t so sure. Some nights, the weight of loneliness and fear pressed down so hard I thought I might break.

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

On one of those nights, I found myself weeping as I fed the girls. It all felt like too much to bear.

“I can’t keep doing this,” I sobbed. “It’s too hard. I can’t keep waiting…”

And that’s when it hit me. All this time, I’d been waiting for Mark to come around and to see sense, but he’d done nothing to make me believe that might happen. He hadn’t even called.

I looked down at my girls and knew it was time I stood up for them and myself.

A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels

A lawyer gave me the first glimmer of hope.

“With Mark’s abandonment,” she said, tapping a pen thoughtfully on her desk, “you have a strong case. Full custody. Child support. We’ll take care of visitation on your terms.”

Her words were a balm to my shattered spirit. Finally, I had some control and something to fight with. And I wasn’t going to stop there.

Mark wanted out? Fine. I was happy to divorce the jerk, but he wouldn’t get to walk away unscathed.

Divorce papers | Source: Pexels

Divorce papers | Source: Pexels

I created a new social media profile, one carefully curated to tell the story I wanted people to see.

Post after post showed my daughters’ milestones: tiny hands grasping for toys, gummy smiles, and their first giggles. Each photo was a slice of happiness, and in every caption, there was an undeniable truth: Mark wasn’t part of it.

Friends shared the posts, family members left comments, and soon, the updates spread like wildfire through our circle. Mark might have left, but I was building something beautiful without him.

A woman scrolling on her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman scrolling on her phone | Source: Midjourney

The open house was my final act of defiance. I invited everyone. The only person not welcome was Mark. And just to twist the knife, I made sure the invite said so.

My house brimmed with warmth and laughter on the big day. The twins wore matching outfits with tiny bows perched on their soft heads. Guests gushed over how beautiful they were.

Then the door flew open, and there was Mark, furious and wild-eyed. The room fell silent.

A furious man | Source: Midjourney

A furious man | Source: Midjourney

“What the hell is this?” he barked. “You’ve turned everyone against me!”

I stood, my heart pounding but steady. “You abandoned us, Mark, because you didn’t want daughters. You made your choice.”

“You robbed me of my chance to pass down my family legacy!” He retorted, eyes blazing.

“You’re not welcome here,” I said, my voice calm and almost pitying. “We don’t want or need a man like you in our family. This is my life now.”

A woman yelling | Source: Midjourney

A woman yelling | Source: Midjourney

Friends closed ranks around me, their presence a silent but powerful force. Defeated and humiliated, Mark turned on his heel and stormed out, the door slamming behind him.

Weeks later, Mark received the court papers detailing the child support, custody, and visitation arrangements. There was no escape. He’d still have to accept the responsibility of being a father, even if he was never going to be a dad to our girls.

Then came Sharon’s final message — an apology, maybe, or more bitter words. It didn’t matter. I deleted it without reading it.

A woman glancing at her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing at her phone | Source: Midjourney

I was done with their family and done with the past.

And as I rocked my daughters that night, the future stretched wide open before us: bright, untouchable, and ours alone.

Here’s another story: After a week away, I came home to the strange and unsettling sight of my kids sleeping on the cold hallway floor. Heart pounding, I searched for answers, only to find my husband missing and odd noises coming from the kids’ room. What I uncovered next left me furious — and ready for a fight!

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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