The morning of my medical college entrance exam I woke up late to find all my alarms mysteriously turned off. As I raced against time, my 8-year-old brother stepped in with a plan that would save everything.
Ever since I was little, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. When my mom died of cancer, that dream only grew stronger. I wanted to help people like her, to understand the disease that had taken her and to help others fight it.
A dreaming woman | Source: Pexels
I worked for this moment for years, through late nights, countless books, and more exams than I could count. Today, all that work was about to pay off: it was finally the day of my medical entrance exam.
Last night, I did everything to make sure I wouldn’t oversleep. I set three alarms on my phone—6:00 a.m., 6:15 a.m., and 6:30 a.m. I even left my curtains open so that the sunlight would wake me up. As I lay in bed, I thought of my mom, promising myself I’d make her proud.
A sleeping woman | Source: Pexels
When I opened my eyes the next morning, something felt wrong. It was dark, too dark. I reached for my phone, and my heart stopped—9:55 a.m. My exam started at 10:00.
“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” I threw my blankets off and grabbed my phone. All three alarms were turned off.
“I know I set these!” I muttered, my hands shaking as I got dressed in record time. My mind raced with questions. How did this happen?
A shocked woman in her bed | Source: Pexels
I bolted down the stairs, half-dressed, my hair flying everywhere. “Linda!” I called out, desperately looking for my stepmom. “Linda, please! I need a ride to the college. My exam is in five minutes!”
She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee calmly, her eyes following me with a look I couldn’t quite place. She raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that was as cold as her coffee cup was hot.
A woman sipping coffee | Source: Pexels
“You’re late already,” she said flatly. “Maybe next time, you should learn to set an alarm properly.”
“I did set them!” I almost shouted, feeling the sting of frustration and panic in my voice. “I triple-checked. They were on, all three of them.”
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
She shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. “Clearly, you didn’t. Maybe this is a sign that you’re not cut out for med school, hmm? If you can’t even manage to wake up on time, how will you handle something serious, like a patient?”
I stood there, feeling my face grow hot, my mind swirling with disbelief and desperation. This couldn’t be real. My stepmom wouldn’t do this to me, would she?
An angry woman in a red T-shirt | Source: Pexels
I turned toward the door, knowing I’d never make it on foot but feeling I had to try. Just as I reached for the handle, I heard a small voice behind me.
“I know who did it,” my little brother Jason said, his voice shaking with nervousness but his eyes steady.
I turned, confused. “Jason, what are you talking about?”
A young boy | Source: Pexels
He took a small step forward, looking at Linda cautiously. “I saw her. Last night. She turned off your alarms, Emily.”
Linda shot him a sharp look. “Jason, stop making up stories,” she hissed.
Jason gulped but didn’t back down. “I’m not lying! I saw you go into her room, pick up her phone, and turn off the alarms. You said she didn’t need to be at that stupid exam anyway.”
A serious boy | Source: Pexels
My mind was spinning. I looked at Linda, searching her face for denial, for any sign she’d say it was a misunderstanding. But she just sighed, crossing her arms.
“You know what, Emily?” she said coolly, her voice hardening. “Fine. Yes, I did it. You’re not fit to be a doctor. It’s a waste of time, energy, and, frankly, a lot of money that your dad could spend on something worthwhile.”
“Like… your beauty salon?” The words came out before I could stop them.
An angry middle-aged woman | Source: Freepik
Just as I was about to push past her and leave, I heard sirens in the distance, getting louder, heading toward our house.
Jason, now clutching my hand, gave me a small, hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, Em. I called for help.”
Linda’s face hardened as she looked at Jason, who stood at my side, clutching my hand. “You seriously did this?” she asked, barely able to form the words.
The police sirens | Source: Pexels
Jason’s small voice cut through the tension. “You are the bad guy, Linda,” he said, his eyes fierce despite his small frame. “Emily is going to be a doctor one day. Mom would be proud of her.”
Linda’s face twisted, and before she could say anything, the wailing sirens outside grew louder. I watched her look toward the window, her eyes widening with surprise.
The front door opened, and two police officers stepped inside. One of them, a tall, broad man, spoke with a calm authority. “Is everything alright here?”
A policeman on duty | Source: Pexels
Jason didn’t miss a beat. “I called you,” he said, standing tall despite his young age. “My sister needs to get to her entrance exam. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss it.”
The officer’s eyes moved to Linda, who immediately put on an innocent act. “This is absurd!” she scoffed, folding her arms. “They’re just children, making things up because they’re late.”
But the other officer, a woman with kind eyes, knelt down to Jason’s level. “You called us to help your sister?” she asked gently.
A serious policewoman | Source: Pexels
Jason nodded vigorously. “Yes. Emily studied so hard, and she was ready. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss her test.”
The officers exchanged a glance, then turned to me. “Is that true?” the male officer asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. “I have to get to my college right now, or I’ll lose my chance to take the exam.”
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
The officers nodded, exchanging another glance. “Alright, young lady,” the female officer said, standing up, “We’re going to get you there.”
Linda’s face contorted with disbelief. “Wait, you’re actually going to escort her?” she stammered, her voice full of frustration. “This is ridiculous!”
“It’s our job to help people,” the officer replied, coolly dismissing Linda. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
A serious policeman | Source: Pexels
I turned to Jason, who was smiling proudly, a little hero in his own right. “Thank you, Jason,” I whispered, hugging him tight. “You saved me.”
As I left with the officers, Linda’s face was a mix of fury and disbelief. The officers helped me into their squad car, and we sped down the road with the sirens blaring, weaving through traffic as we approached the college. My heart pounded in my chest, but this time, it was with determination.
A police car in the city | Source: Pexels
At the exam center, we pulled up just minutes before the doors were set to close. The officers stepped out with me, guiding me toward the entrance.
One of the proctors noticed us and approached, looking confused. “Ma’am, the exam is about to begin,” he said, glancing at the officers.
The policewoman explained quickly. “This young lady had her alarms sabotaged at home, but she’s here now. I understand if you can’t make exceptions, but if there’s any way she can sit for the exam…”
A policewoman talking | Source: Pexels
The proctor’s stern face softened as he listened. He looked me in the eyes, as if weighing my sincerity, then gave a brief nod. “Alright. Go on in.”
“Thank you,” I managed, barely believing I’d made it.
I found my seat, still rattled but refusing to let the morning’s events get the better of me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second, and thought of my mom. This was my moment, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me. I picked up my pencil and began the test.
A young woman writing an exam | Source: Pexels
Hours later, I walked out of the exam room, exhausted but relieved. The officers who had helped me were gone, but I felt their kindness in every step as I headed home. Jason was waiting on the front steps, and he jumped up as soon as he saw me.
“Did you do it?” he asked eagerly, his eyes bright with hope.
I nodded, a smile breaking out despite my exhaustion. “I did, thanks to you.”
A young smiling woman | Source: Freepik
He threw his arms around me. “I knew you could.”
Inside, my dad was waiting. His face was pale, his mouth set in a grim line. He’d been waiting for me to come home to hear everything. Jason took the lead, explaining every detail of what had happened while I was gone.
A smiling young boy | Source: Unsplash
My dad’s face grew red with anger, his eyes narrowing as he looked over at Linda, who was trying to look calm and unaffected. “Is this true?” he demanded, his voice trembling with restrained fury.
Linda’s eyes darted between us. “I… I was just trying to keep her from a mistake. I didn’t mean for it to go so far,” she mumbled, finally looking cornered.
“You sabotaged her dreams because of your own selfishness,” my dad said coldly. “You’re not staying here another night.”
An angry man | Source: Pexels
Linda’s face turned pale as she realized he was serious. She tried to protest, but he shook his head firmly. “Pack your things, Linda. This family deserves better than this.”
Jason and I stood by the door, watching as she finally left. There was no satisfaction in it, just a sense of justice and relief.
A woman looking through a gate | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: I was heartbroken and furious when I discovered my mother-in-law Linda and her friends had devoured my $1000 wedding cake. I couldn’t believe they would ruin my special day on purpose, leaving only crumbs behind. Determined to teach my spiteful mother-in-law a lesson, I started plotting my revenge.
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 Thought My Husband Went Jogging Every Morning – One Day, I Decided to Follow Him
Have you ever had a gut feeling that something wasn’t quite right? I ignored mine for weeks. My husband, Eric, said he’d taken up jogging every morning, and I believed him. But one morning, curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to follow him. What I found turned my world upside down.
My husband Eric started his morning runs about a month ago. At first, I thought it was great — he’s always working long hours at his business, and I knew he rarely had time for himself. I was actually proud of him. After all, isn’t that what we encourage our spouses to do? To take care of themselves?
A man jogging | Source: Unsplash
Eric and I have been married for 14 years. We have two boys — Max, who’s 13, and little Stuart, who just turned 8. On the surface, we were a picture-perfect family. Eric owned a small but successful business, and while we were not rolling in money, we were comfortable.
I work part-time at a local boutique, and most of my free time is spent keeping the house running and wrangling the boys.
Life was good — or so I thought. But then I started noticing some… oddities.
Grayscale close-up shot of a couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
For one, Max kept asking Eric if he could join him on his morning jogs. Max has always idolized his dad, and the idea of father-son bonding over a jog seemed like a no-brainer. But Eric kept shutting him down.
Not just a simple “Maybe next time, bud,” but a firm, almost snappy “NO, MAX. I WANT TO RUN ALONE.”
“I just want to spend time with you, Dad,” Max had pleaded one morning, his eyes wide and hopeful. The desperation in his voice made my heart ache.
Eric’s jaw had tensed. “Not now, Max,” he’d said.
A man frowning | Source: Midjourney
I remember Max’s confused face the first time Eric said it. “Why can’t I come with you, Dad?” he’d asked.
Eric ruffled his hair and mumbled something about needing his runs to clear his head. I didn’t think much of it back then, but looking back, I wish I’d paid closer attention.
That night, I’d watched Eric carefully. He’d been distant and distracted. When I tried to touch his arm, he flinched… something he’d never done in 14 years of marriage.
A doubtful woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Everything okay?” I’d asked.
He’d smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Everything’s fine.” A lie so smooth, so practiced, it sent a chill down my spine.
A few days later, I started noticing “other” things. His gym clothes — normally tossed on the floor when he got home — were oddly spotless. His running shoes, which should’ve been scuffed and worn from all the “jogging,” looked almost brand new.
“Something isn’t right,” a voice inside me screamed. “Something is very, very wrong, Anna.”
A pair of shoes | Source: Pexels
My gut whispered that something wasn’t adding up. But instead of asking Eric outright, I decided to keep an eye on him.
Little did I know how much my world was about to change.
One morning, I got up early, careful not to wake the boys. I stood by the window, watching as Eric laced up his pristine running shoes and grabbed his water bottle.
A man tying his shoelace | Source: Pexels
“Going for a run?” I asked casually, leaning against the doorway, my voice deliberately light.
“Yep,” he said, barely glancing at me. The coldness in his tone was unmistakable.
I gave him a small smile, even though my stomach felt like it was tied in knots. “Be safe,” I whispered. He nodded and headed out the door, not looking back.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
I waited a few minutes before grabbing my car keys and following him. My hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel. “What am I doing?” The rational part of my mind screamed. “This isn’t me. I’m not the type of woman who follows her husband.”
But something deeper and primal drove me forward.
At first, everything seemed normal. He jogged down the street, his pace steady and unremarkable. I stayed far enough behind so that he wouldn’t notice me. I was guilty but I had no choice. After two blocks, he slowed down. Then, he turned down a quiet residential street.
That’s when things got STRANGE.
A man jogging on the road | Source: Pexels
Eric stopped in front of a modest blue house — nothing fancy, but well-kept. He glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone was watching, then pulled a key out of his pocket and let himself in.
I sat in my car, FROZEN. “What the hell?” I whispered to myself, a cold fear spreading through my veins.
After a few moments, I got out and walked quietly up to the house. I felt ridiculous, like some kind of amateur detective, but I had to know what was going on. My mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
A blue house near the road | Source: Pexels
I peeked through the window, and my stomach dropped.
There he was — my husband — wrapped around HER.
Lucy. His new secretary. The woman I’d welcomed into our home. The woman I’d trusted.
I watched in stunned silence as they kissed, laughing like two people without a care in the world. Their intimacy was casual and comfortable… like this wasn’t a new affair. This was something that had been happening for a while.
A romantic couple | Source: Unsplash
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures of them. Betrayal burned through me like acid. Memories flashed: our wedding day, the births of our sons, and the quiet moments of shared laughter.
I wanted to scream, barge in, and demand an explanation. But I forced myself to stay calm and I stormed back to my car.
“Not yet,” I told myself. “Not yet, Anna. This isn’t the time for confrontation.”
My hands were trembling, and my face felt hot with anger. I couldn’t stop replaying what I’d seen — the way he touched her, the way he looked at her… the way they both… Oh my God.
A woman shaken to her core | Source: Midjourney
“Fourteen years,” I thought. “Fourteen years reduced to this moment of betrayal.”
But I wasn’t going to fall apart. If Eric wanted to betray me, I was going to make sure he REGRETTED it… BIG TIME.
My hands shook as I pulled over and walked into a small print shop, the photos burning a hole in my phone’s gallery. The man behind the counter greeted me with a polite smile, but I barely managed to nod back.
“Can you print these?” I asked as I slid my phone across the counter.
He glanced at the images briefly, his brows rising slightly, but he didn’t say a word. He just nodded and got to work.
A woman in a shop | Source: Midjourney
Each click of the printer felt like a bullet of revenge. My heart pounded as the images began sliding out, vivid and damning. I stared at the glossy prints, anger coursing through me like fire.
“He thinks he can do this to me? To our family?” I thought.
By the time the man handed me the stack of photos, my grip was steady, and my resolve unshakable. “Thank you,” I said curtly, tucking the prints into my bag.
Walking out of the shop, I couldn’t help but smirk to myself. “This is going to hurt, Eric. And you deserve every second of it.”
I grabbed the photos I’d taken and headed straight to his office.
A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash
I wasn’t subtle about it. I marched in, ignoring the startled glances from his employees, and started pinning copies of the photos to every desk. Each one had a caption scrawled in bold red letters:
“THIS IS HOW YOU CAN GET A RAISE IN THIS COMPANY!”
“Look at your perfect boss,” I muttered under my breath. “Look at the man you respect. He’s in her house right now!”
Gasps filled the room as people stared at the images, their whispers growing louder with each passing second. I saw shock, disgust, and disbelief spreading across their faces. Some looked away. Some stared, transfixed. And some started whispering things.
Stunned office workers | Source: Pexels
Ten minutes later, I heard the sound of the door slamming open, and there he was — Eric, his face red with fury. “Anna, what the hell are you doing?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” I said, crossing my arms. “Your employees deserve to know the kind of boss they’re working for. The kind of husband you are.”
His eyes darted to the photos, and for a moment, he looked panicked. The confident man from the blue house was gone. Now, he looked like a child caught in a lie.
But then he composed himself, his voice lowering dangerously. “We need to talk. Now.”
I smiled, tossing my car keys at him. “Oh, we absolutely do.”
A startled man in his office | Source: Midjourney
We argued the entire ride home.
“You had no right —” Eric began, his voice desperate.
“No right? You had no right to destroy our family. What were you thinking, Eric? Did you even think about Max and Stuart?”
Tears threatened to spill, but I fought them back. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.
A woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“Wasn’t supposed to be like what?” I screamed. “A lying, cheating husband? A father who betrays his family?”
“No, Anna —”
“Then how was it supposed to be, Eric? You cheat on me, lie to our kids, and sneak around with your secretary, but hey, as long as you’re happy, right? You’re free to do anything you please… only because you’re a man, right?”
A man driving a car | Source: Unsplash
A flash of shame crossed his face. For a moment, I saw the man I married — the man who used to look at me like I was his whole world.
He didn’t respond. The silence was deafening.
When we got home, I grabbed my things and locked myself in the bedroom, ignoring his pleas to talk. Each knock on the door felt like another betrayal.
I wasn’t ready to listen… not yet. Not when my entire world had just shattered into a million pieces.
A man standing outside a room | Source: Midjourney
I refused to talk to him after that. And within the next few days, Eric’s business was in shambles.
When word of his rendezvous with his secretary became public, employees began resigning in large numbers. No one wanted to work for a man who promoted mistresses instead of merit. Each resignation was another nail in the coffin of his professional reputation.
I filed for divorce a week later. The paperwork felt like liberation — each signature a step towards healing.
Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels
When I told the boys, Max was quiet for a long time. The silence was heavy, laden with disappointment and confusion. Finally, he looked up, his eyes filled with a pain no 13-year-old should ever have to experience.
“I always thought Dad was a hero,” he said softly. “Guess I was wrong.”
Those words shattered something inside me. Not because of Eric, but because of the innocence my son had lost.
Hearing those words broke my heart, but I knew I’d done the right thing.
A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney
The last time I saw Eric, he looked like a shell of himself. His business was gone, his reputation was ruined, and Lucy? She’d left him for someone with a bigger bank account.
Gone was the confident man who used to stride through life. In his place was a broken, desperate stranger.
“Anna,” he pleaded on the road. “I made a mistake. Please… can we fix this?”
The audacity. The absolute audacity of that request.
A desperate man | Source: Midjourney
I stared at him for a long moment, letting his words hang in the air. Every memory of our marriage — the good and the bad — flickered through my mind like an old movie reel.
Then I smiled… a cold, empty smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “You know, Eric, you were right about one thing. Jogging really does clear your head.”
And with that, I turned and walked away to my new apartment, leaving him to deal with the mess he’d made.
A woman walking away | 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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