When Nella notices her husband, Eric, acting a bit strange, she follows him to see where he goes off to. A few nights into this new routine, she decides to just ask him the truth. But the truth is deeper and darker than Nella could have expected. And it changes her life forever…
It all started when my husband, Eric, told me he needed some space to think things through.
We’ve been married for 12 years, and while we’ve had our share of ups and downs, this was the first time he’d ever said something like that.
A newly wed couple | Source: Midjourney
“It’s not about us, Nella,” he insisted. “I just need time to clear my head.”
But of course, my mind went to the worst possible place.
Eric was always the steady one in our marriage. He was reliable, grounded, and calm. So, when he packed a bag and casually mentioned that he would be sleeping in his car for a few nights, my anxiety went into overdrive.
A man packing a bag | Source: Midjourney
Was Eric cheating? Was this his way of leaving me? Was this how he was going to slowly slip out of our lives?
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I can give you space here, at home. You can take the guest room, or we can make the pool house into something cozier?”
“Nella,” he said, smiling slowly. “It’s not about us. But this is important to me, okay?”
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
For ten nights, Eric would leave the house right after dinner and return just before sunrise.
He looked like hell, honestly. His hair would be disheveled, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he would move very slowly like his body just didn’t want to cooperate.
But every single time I asked, he’d brush me off with a forced smile, saying that he just needed a break.
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
“I promise, it’s nothing like that. Trust me, please,” he would say whenever I pushed him about whether there was someone else.
But how could I? My imagination ran wild. I pictured him in a hotel room with someone else, living a double life.
By the fifth night, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I decided to follow him.
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
Honestly, I felt ridiculous. It was like some cliché out of a soap drama. But I had to know what was really going on. I waited until he drove off and tailed him a few blocks behind.
He didn’t go far. Just to the local park, where he pulled up under a tree and killed the headlights.
I parked a little farther down the street and watched from the shadows. I was nervous, like I was expecting something… or someone to get into the car. Was this where Eric’s mistress met him?
But the longer I sat there, the more I realized that nobody was going to show up. He just sat there, staring at his phone, then stretching out with his pillow and blanket.
A car parked in a park | Source: Midjourney
It was just him, alone, in the dark.
For the next few nights, the same routine played out.
Eric would go to the park, curl up in the front seat, and spend hours there before driving home. My mind was just spinning.
Why would he sleep in his car unless he was hiding something? Why suffer through all that discomfort unless it was for someone else?
A man sleeping in a car | Source: Midjourney
On the tenth night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had had enough. I needed answers. After putting the kids to bed, I locked them in and drove out to the park. This time, I wasn’t just going to watch from the sidelines.
No, we were too far into this.
I pulled up next to his car and tapped on the window.
Eric looked up, startled. He quickly unlocked the door and motioned for me to get in. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, and as I slid into the passenger seat, all my emotions came rushing to the surface.
A shocked man sitting in his car | Source: Midjourney
“What the hell is going on, Eric?” I demanded. “Why are you doing this? Be honest, are you seeing someone? Is that why you’re here? Are you afraid that the kids would see or find out?”
I spoke too fast, as though all the words just needed to fall out as quickly as possible.
Eric sighed deeply, rubbing his face with his hands. I could see the exhaustion in him now, the kind that went deeper than just losing sleep. It was like he’d been carrying a weight he didn’t know how to put down.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not like that, I keep telling you. There’s no one else.”
“Then what is it?” I pressed on. “You’re scaring me, Eric. Why are you out here every night?”
He glanced at me, then reached into the backseat, pulling out a small stack of books and a recording device.
“I didn’t want you to know,” he said softly. “Because I just didn’t want to worry you. But I’ve been out here recording bedtime stories for the kids.”
A stack of children’s books | Source: Midjourney
I blinked slowly.
“Bedtime stories? Why would that worry me?”
He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly. “I went to the doctor a few weeks ago. They found something, a tumor. A biopsy was done, and the results came back. It’s cancer, Nella. And it’s bad. Borrowed time is all I have.”
A doctor’s office | Source: Midjourney
It felt like the ground had crumbled beneath me. I couldn’t breathe.
“What?” I gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to put that on you,” he said. “I wanted you to be normal around me, and with the kids. But I also wanted to make something for the kids to remember me by.”
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed his hand and held it tightly, as the reality of what he’d been hiding hit me all at once. This wasn’t about some other woman.
This was about my husband preparing for a future that I didn’t want to imagine.
“I refuse to let you go through this alone,” I said. “We’re going to face this together, Eric, whatever it takes.”
He nodded, tears slipping down his face, just as they slipped down mine.
A crying woman | Source: Midjourney
The months that followed were a blur of doctor’s appointments, treatments, and nights spent huddled together, clinging to each other as we tried to stay hopeful.
Eric spent all this time with the kids, playing with them and taking them on walks if he could manage it. He made them pancakes for dinner and pizza for breakfast.
He told them that they could choose their Halloween costumes months in advance.
Children in Halloween costumes | Source: Midjourney
And he fought harder than I ever imagined, but despite everything, the disease was relentless. He’d known from the start that the odds were against him.
He’d known it when he started recording those stories in his car, preparing for the worst while still trying to give us the best of himself.
“I’ll try for as long as I can,” he promised me one night when we were in bed. “But I’m getting… tired.”
A voice recorder on a table | Source: Midjourney
“I know, my love,” I said, gripping his hands under the covers. “Whatever you do, listen to your body, too. Rest when it tells you to.”
Eric passed away in the quiet hours of a winter morning. I remember the stillness of the house, how empty it felt without him there. Our kids, so young and full of life, didn’t yet grasp the enormity of the loss.
But they sat at the funeral, looking glassy-eyed and lost.
A funeral setting | Source: Midjourney
Just like me.
A few days after the funeral, when the house was filled with the muted sounds of family members and well-wishers, I finally felt ready to listen to those recordings.
I went out to his car and took the recorder out of the bag he had left it in. I scrolled through the files, seeing the familiar titles of the kids’ favorite stories.
A voice recording device | Source: Midjourney
But then, one caught my eye:
Our Story.
I took a deep breath and pressed play. His voice was warm and steady and filled the space around me instantly.
“Once upon a time,” he began. “There was a princess. She was kind, smart, and braver than any knight in the land. But most of all, she had the biggest heart anyone had ever known.”
I smiled.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“One day, she met an ordinary man, just a guy from a village with no title, no riches. But the moment he saw her, he knew his life would never be the same.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened, his voice wrapping around me like a hug I so desperately needed.
“The princess and the man lived many happy years together,” he continued. “Raising a prince and princess together. And even though the man grew old and weary, he knew that his princess would go on. She would continue to rule their home… with love and strength.”
Eric’s voice faltered on the last words. I could almost imagine his upset face.
A crying man | Source: Midjourney
“So, my love,” he said softly. “If you’re listening to this, know that you were my fairytale. You turned my ordinary life into something extraordinary. And even though I can’t be with you anymore, your fairytale must go on.”
It was just what I needed.
And now, whenever the days feel too heavy, I listen to Eric’s voice again. And somehow, I can smile again.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:
My Husband Surprised Me on My Birthday — When I Saw Who Jumped Out of the Gift Box, I Broke Down in Tears
As Amelia’s 30th birthday approaches, her husband, Jared, keeps hinting at a major surprise for her, causing her imagination to grow wild. On the day of her birthday party, she discovers that her birthday surprise is a man who she never wanted to see again…
I could tell that something was up. My husband, Jared, had been buzzing for weeks about this “life-changing” gift. Every day, another cryptic comment came my way.
“You’ll love it, babe, trust me!” Jared would say, practically bouncing on his feet.
An excited man | Source: Midjourney
When I asked him about it, he’d just smirk and say, “You’ll see!”
Honestly, by the time my birthday party rolled around, I was convinced that it was something practical. Like maybe an appliance, or the recliner with the massage functions I’d been eyeing. I would have been happy with the ice cream machine that I wanted, but honestly, Jared’s enthusiasm made me feel good that he’d gone to so much trouble.
“You’re worth all the effort, Amelia,” he said. “I just want you to feel special and know that I listen and I care.”
A recliner with a green bow | Source: Midjourney
So when he walked in on my birthday, he struggled to roll in a massive gift box much bigger than our washing machine.
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.
I arrived home to find my kids sleeping in the hallway — seeing what my husband had turned their bedroom into while I was gone drove me wild with angerPhoto of admin admin3 weeks ago0 616 7 minutes read
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!
I’d been away on a business trip for a week, and let me tell you, I was itching to get home. My boys, Tommy and Alex, were probably bouncing off the walls waiting for me.
I mean, a week is practically forever when you’re 6 and 8. And Mark? Well, I figured he’d be glad to hand the reins back to me. He’s a great dad, don’t get me wrong, but he’s always been more of the fun parent than the responsible one.
As I pulled into our driveway at midnight, I couldn’t help but grin. The house was dark and quiet, just as it should be at this ungodly hour.
I grabbed my suitcase and tiptoed to the front door, keys jingling softly in my hand.
The lock clicked open, and I stepped inside, ready to collapse into bed. But something was… wrong.
My foot hit something soft, and I froze. Heart pounding, I fumbled for the light switch. When the hall lit up, I almost screamed.
Tommy and Alex were sprawled out on the floor, tangled up in blankets like a couple of puppies. They were fast asleep, but their faces were smudged with dirt, and their hair was sticking up in all directions.
“What the hell?” I whispered, my mind racing. Had there been a fire? A gas leak? Why weren’t they in their beds?
I crept past them, afraid to wake them up until I knew what was going on. The living room was a disaster zone, littered with pizza boxes, soda cans, and what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream on the coffee table. But no sign of Mark.
My heart was doing the cha-cha in my chest as I made my way to our bedroom. Empty.
The bed was still made, like it hadn’t been slept in today. Mark’s car was in the driveway, so where was he?
That’s when I heard it. A faint, muffled sound coming from the boys’ room. I tiptoed over, my imagination running wild. Was Mark hurt? Had some psycho broken in and tied him up?
I pushed the door open, inch by inch, and…
“What. The. Actual—” I bit my tongue, remembering the kids were just down the hall.
There was Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part.
The boys’ room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and I’m pretty sure that monstrosity in the corner was a mini-fridge.
I stood there, mouth hanging open, as the rage built up inside me like a volcano about to blow. Mark hadn’t even noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing.
I stomped over and yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?”
He blinked at me, looking dazed. “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.”
“Early? It’s midnight! Why are our children sleeping on the floor?”
He shrugged, reaching for his controller again. “Oh, it’s fine. The boys were happy sleeping outside. They thought it was an adventure.”
I snatched the controller away. “An adventure? They’re not camping, Mark! They’re sleeping on our dirty hallway floor!”
“Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he said, trying to grab the controller back. “Everything’s under control. I’ve been feeding them and stuff.”
“Feeding them? You mean the pizza boxes and ice cream in the living room?” I could feel my blood pressure rising with every word. “And what about baths? Or, I don’t know, their actual beds?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “They’re fine, Sarah. Lighten up a bit.”
That’s when I lost it.
“Lighten up? LIGHTEN UP? Our children are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he huffed. “I’m just trying to have a little me-time. Is that so terrible?”
I took a deep breath, trying not to scream. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go put the boys in their beds. Now.”
“But I’m in the middle of—”
“NOW, Mark!”
He grumbled but got up, shuffling past me.
I watched him pick up Tommy, who stirred a little but didn’t wake up. As Mark carried him to bed, I couldn’t help but think how alike they looked: one actual child and the man acting like one.
I scooped up Alex, my heart breaking a little at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I made a decision. If Mark wanted to act like a child, then that’s exactly how I’d treat him.
The next morning, I put my plan into action.
While Mark was in the shower, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.
When he came downstairs, hair still wet, I was waiting for him with a big smile. “Good morning, sweetie! I made you breakfast!”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Uh, thanks?”
I set a plate in front of him. In the middle was a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with a smiley face made of fruit. His coffee was in a sippy cup.
“What’s this?” he asked, poking at the pancake.
“It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a big day ahead of us!”
After breakfast, I unveiled my masterpiece, a giant, colorful chore chart plastered on the fridge. “Look what I made for you!”
Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that?”
“Language!” I scolded. “It’s your very own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”
“My toys? Sarah, what are you—”
I cut him off. “Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new house rule. All screens off by 9 p.m. sharp. That includes your phone, mister!”
Mark’s face went from confused to angry. “Are you kidding me? I’m a grown man, I don’t need—”
“Ah, ah, ah!” I wagged my finger. “No arguing, or you’ll have to go to the timeout corner!”
For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9, I’d shut off the Wi-Fi and unplug his gaming console.
I even tucked him into bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my most soothing voice.
His meals were served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for snacks. When he complained, I’d say things like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.”
The chore chart was a particular point of contention. Every time he completed a task, I’d make a big show of giving him a gold star.
“Look at you, putting your laundry away all by yourself! Mommy’s so proud!”
He’d grit his teeth and mutter, “I’m not a child, Sarah.”
To which I’d reply, “Of course not, sweetie. Now, who wants to help make cookies?”
The breaking point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the timeout corner for throwing a fit about his two-hour screen time limit. He sat there, fuming, while I calmly set the kitchen timer.
“This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their children sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.”
He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”
I studied him for a moment. He did look genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook when I had one last blow to deliver.
“Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I’ve already called your mom…”
The color drained from his face. “You didn’t.”
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Mark’s mother, looking every bit the disappointed parent.
“Mark!” she bellowed, marching into the house. “Did you really make my sweeties sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?”
Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mom, it’s not… I mean, I didn’t…”
She turned to me, her face softening. “Sarah, dear, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I thought I raised him better than that.”
I patted her arm. “It’s not your fault, Linda. Some boys just take longer to grow up than others.”
Mark’s face was beet red. “Mom, please. I’m 35 years old!”
Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, not to worry. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week. I’ll whip this boy back into shape in no time!”
As Linda bustled off to the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked utterly defeated.
“Sarah,” he said quietly. “I really am sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”
I softened a little. “I know, honey. But when I’m away, I need to know you’ve got things under control. The boys need a father, not another playmate.”
He nodded, looking ashamed. “You’re right. I’ll do better, I promise.”
I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I know you will. Now, why don’t you go help your mother with the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.”
As Mark trudged off to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Lesson learned, I hoped. And if not… well, I still had that timeout corner ready and waiting.
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