I’m Hanna Stone, and I need to share what happened this past weekend. A few weeks ago, my husband, Jack, and I planned a family fishing trip to reconnect. Jack works so much that we hardly see him anymore, and our youngest is a 5-month-old breastfed baby. Considering how little time we get together, the goal of the trip was to spend quality time together as a family.

We set out on Friday morning to get our boat and head to our camp for the weekend. Everything was going fine until about 40 minutes into the drive. Jack got a call and started saying things like, “Yeah, I will be there soon” and “What did you bring?” When he got off the phone, I asked, “Who was that?”

“It was Heath,” he replied casually.

“Who’s Heath?”

Jack looked at me. “He’s a coworker of mine.”

I felt a knot in my stomach. “You invited him to our family trip without telling me?”

Jack shrugged like it was no big deal. “Yeah, I didn’t think it would matter. Heath wanted to see the boat and hang out.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Jack, this trip was supposed to be for us to reconnect as a family. I don’t want to spend the weekend nursing our baby and watching the kids around a stranger while you socialize with your buddy.”

Jack tried to reassure me. “It won’t be like that. I told Heath this trip was for the kids, and I’d be spending time with them. He’s just tagging along.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “No, Jack. I know how this will go. Did he bring beer?”

Jack looked away, confirming my suspicion. “Yeah, but it’s not like he’s going to get wasted. It’s just a few beers.”

I cut him off. “Turn the car around. Take us back home.”

Jack was stunned. “Why? We’re already on the way.”

I insisted. “I’m not going to spend the weekend feeling awkward and alone while you have fun with Heath. Take us back home now.”

Reluctantly, Jack turned the car around and drove us back. He was visibly upset, but I didn’t care. This trip was supposed to be about our family, not his coworker.

When we got home, Jack was still fuming. “I can’t believe you’re making such a big deal out of this, Hanna. It was just Heath.”

I glared at him. “Jack, we talked about this trip in detail. It was meant for our family to reconnect. How could you think inviting a coworker would be okay?”

Jack threw up his hands. “I see Heath every day at work. I just thought it would be nice to hang out outside of the office.”

I shook my head. “And you didn’t think about how awkward it would be for me? Nursing our baby in front of a stranger, watching over all the kids while you guys have fun? No, Jack. This was a family trip, not a social hour.”

Jack tried to defend himself. “Heath knows the trip is for the kids. He wouldn’t get in the way.”

I crossed my arms. “I don’t believe that for a second. You said he brought beer. I know exactly how this would go. You two would be hanging out while I did all the work.”

Jack sighed. “Fine, what do you want me to do?”

I took a deep breath. “I want you to go on this trip by yourself. I’m taking the kids somewhere else.”

Jack looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to rent an Airbnb by the lake for the weekend. The kids and I will have our own trip,” I said with a smile.

Jack was speechless but left the house to go on the trip with Heath. I packed up the kids, rented an Airbnb, and left a text for Jack letting him know about our plans.

With a clear plan in mind, I packed up the kids and rented an Airbnb by the lake for the weekend. Before we left, I sent Jack a text: “Taking the kids on our own trip for the weekend. We’ll be at the lake. No cell reception, so don’t worry if you can’t reach us.”

As I drove away, I felt angry but satisfied with my actions. Jack wanted a weekend with his buddy? Fine. The kids and I were going to have our own adventure.

The Airbnb was perfect. It was a cozy cabin right by the water. The kids were excited, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. We spent the weekend fishing, swimming, and even visiting a nearby amusement park. The kids had a blast, and I enjoyed every moment with them, free from the stress of dealing with an unexpected guest.

Because there was no cell service, I didn’t hear from Jack at all. It was a refreshing break that allowed me to fully focus on my children and our time together. We laughed, played, and made wonderful memories.

On Sunday morning, we packed up and headed home. I felt a sense of calm knowing I had made the right decision for myself and my kids. When we pulled into the driveway, I saw Jack waiting for us, looking furious.

Jack stormed up to the car as soon as we parked. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.

I calmly got out and started unbuckling the kids. “I told you, Jack. We went to the lake for the weekend. I sent you a text.”

Jack was fuming. “I came back home Friday evening to spend the rest of the weekend with you, but you were gone! I couldn’t contact you at all!”

I looked him in the eye. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had stuck to the original plan, Jack. You made this trip about you and Heath, not about our family.”

Jack ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I only stayed out with Heath until 5 P.M. on Friday. I came back to spend time with you and the kids. But you had already left! You couldn’t have waited?”

I shook my head. “Jack, I needed to make a point. This trip was supposed to be about us as a family. Instead, you decided to bring a stranger along, making it uncomfortable and awkward for me. I didn’t want to spend my weekend like that.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” my dad asked, his warm hand resting on my shoulder as I adjusted my veil in the mirror.

“I’ve been ready my whole life, Dad,” I said with a grin. My hands were steady, but my heart raced with excitement.

I wasn’t the kind of girl who dreamed of fairy tales, but I’d always wanted this day—a day full of love, laughter, and family. And now it was happening. Everything was perfect, down to the last detail, just like I’d planned.

I’d spent months picking out flowers, choosing the right colors, and making sure everyone knew their place. My mom used to say I was a bit of a control freak, but it made me feel safe, knowing things were in order.

“You look beautiful,” my dad added, a bit choked up.

“Don’t start crying yet,” I teased. “We still have to make it down the aisle.”

I couldn’t wait to walk down that aisle and see Jacob—my soon-to-be husband. He wasn’t like me. He never overthought things. Jacob was calm and funny, always ready to make me laugh when I got too serious. That’s what I loved most about him.

Jacob and I met four years ago at a mutual friend’s party. I had been sitting in the corner, avoiding small talk, and he walked up to me with a big smile.

“You look like you’re having a blast,” he said, holding a drink in each hand.

“I hate parties,” I admitted.

“Me too,” he laughed, even though he was clearly having a great time.

That was Jacob—easygoing, with a knack for making the best of every situation. We started talking, and it didn’t take long before I was laughing too. That night changed everything for me.

We were opposites in many ways, but we just fit. I liked order; he loved spontaneity. I had my life planned out; he preferred to go with the flow. But somehow, it worked.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” my best friend Kate had said during the bachelorette party. “You used to say you didn’t believe in all this wedding stuff.”

“I didn’t,” I replied, thinking of Jacob. “But then I met him.”

Jacob had his own set of friends—guys he’d known since grade school. They were a loud, rowdy bunch, always playing jokes on each other. Sometimes they drove me nuts, but Jacob loved them, and I knew they meant the world to him.

His best man, Derek, was always the ringleader, coming up with crazy pranks and schemes. The guys called themselves the “bachelor club,” like they were stuck in high school.

“They’ll grow up one day,” Jacob always said with a grin.

But even though they were immature at times, Jacob was different when he was with me. He wasn’t just a prankster—he was thoughtful and kind, always finding little ways to make me smile. He’d leave me notes, cook dinner when I was tired, and listen to my endless wedding planning without complaint.

“That’s what you’re supposed to do when you love someone,” he once told me, shrugging like it was the easiest thing in the world.

The day had finally arrived, and the sun was shining. It was perfect. As I stood there, ready to marry the love of my life, I took a deep breath. My father was by my side, my family and friends were all waiting outside, and Jacob… well, he was probably cracking jokes with his friends, trying to calm his nerves.

“You ready?” Dad asked again, sensing my excitement.

“I’ve never been more ready,” I replied.

With one last look in the mirror, I smiled. Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. I wasn’t nervous, just eager to see Jacob standing at the end of that aisle, waiting for me.

And then we stepped outside.

The ceremony was going perfectly. The soft hum of music filled the air as Jacob and I stood facing each other, hands intertwined. He was smiling at me, and I could feel the warmth of his love radiating in that moment. My heart swelled with joy, and I could see tears welling up in his eyes. We were about to exchange our vows, the most important words of our lives.

But just as I opened my mouth to speak, something strange caught my eye. From the back of the venue, a group of people appeared. They were walking slowly, carrying something heavy. At first, I thought it was a joke—someone bringing in a last-minute wedding gift. But as they got closer, I saw what they were carrying. A coffin.

My stomach dropped. I blinked, hoping I was imagining things, but no—there it was. A real, wooden coffin, with a giant red bow on top.

“What the…?” I whispered to myself, barely able to process it. This couldn’t be happening.

The guests, who had been smiling and laughing just moments before, fell silent. The music seemed to fade into the background as all eyes turned to the approaching coffin. Confusion rippled through the crowd. My pulse raced. I looked over at Jacob, expecting him to react, but he just stood there, wide-eyed like everyone else.

“What is this?” I thought, panic building in my chest. “Is it a prank? Something gone horribly wrong?” I glanced around, looking for some kind of answer, but nobody seemed to know what was happening. My head was spinning, and I felt lightheaded, like I might faint.

The group of men carrying the coffin came closer. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel my knees trembling. I clutched Jacob’s hand tightly, but even he seemed too shocked to move.

They walked right up to the altar and set the coffin down at our feet. I could barely breathe.

Then, one of Jacob’s friends—Derek, the best man—stepped forward. Of course, it was him. If anyone was behind something as insane as this, it had to be Derek. He reached for the lid of the coffin, his hand moving slowly, as if he was deliberately building suspense.

“Derek, what the hell is going on?” I finally managed to say, my voice shaky.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he smiled—a big, goofy grin—and lifted the lid.

I gasped. Inside the coffin wasn’t what I feared. No grim surprise or morbid joke. Instead, lying there was a large framed portrait of Jacob, with a huge gift bow wrapped around it like he was some kind of present.

For a second, I was too stunned to react. My brain struggled to make sense of what I was seeing. Then, from behind the coffin, the rest of Jacob’s friends jumped out, shouting, “Surprise!!!”

I just stood there, frozen, trying to process it all. My mind went from panic to confusion to… realization. Slowly, it dawned on me: this was all a prank. A ridiculous, over-the-top prank pulled by Jacob’s friends. The coffin, the portrait—everything. They were symbolizing that Jacob was “dead” to them now that he was getting married.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, still in shock.

Derek burst out laughing, clearly pleased with himself. “He’s a married man now! He’s gone forever!” he shouted, pointing at Jacob’s picture. The rest of the guys were laughing, too, slapping each other on the back like they’d just pulled off the greatest prank of all time.

I turned to look at Jacob, who was now grinning sheepishly. “I had no idea,” he said quickly, holding up his hands like he was innocent in all of this. “I swear, I didn’t know they were planning this.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to strangle Derek for pulling something so outrageous in the middle of my wedding. But then… the absurdity of it all hit me. Jacob’s friends were always pulling stunts like this. It was their way of showing they cared. And, honestly, it was kind of funny.

I never really believed in fate. To me, life was always a series of random events. Things just happened, and that was that.

But I didn’t expect to feel the full weight of how life can twist and turn until the day I realized I was the reason Linda’s father was dead.

Suddenly, fate didn’t feel like just a concept anymore. It felt like a noose tightening around my neck.

Let me explain.

I’m thirty years old, engaged to the love of my life, Linda, and we’ve been knee-deep in wedding planning for months. We met two years ago in New York City, both of us hustling through the chaos of our careers, and it wasn’t long before we were inseparable.

Linda is everything I’ve ever wanted—smart, kind, and beautiful—and I couldn’t wait to marry her. But, as we planned our future, I had no idea that my past would catch up with me in the most gut-wrenching way.

Linda had always been close to her mother, Veronica.

They’d talk on the phone nearly every day, and occasionally, her mom would come to visit us in New York.

I knew about Linda’s father, Leonard, and how he had passed away when she was just a little girl. It was a subject Linda rarely talked about, and I never pushed. All I knew was that he had died in a car accident when she was about ten, and they never really got the chance to say goodbye.

A few months before the wedding, Linda and I decided to visit her childhood home in Phoenix. She wanted to show me where she grew up, introduce me properly to her mom on her own turf, and ask for something special.

Linda wanted her mother’s wedding veil to wear on our big day.

I thought it was a sweet gesture, and I was excited to meet Veronica again in her own space, away from the brief visits to New York.

The day we arrived, the sun was brutal. The Phoenix heat beating down on us as we drove through the suburban streets. Linda’s family home was quaint, tucked into a quiet neighborhood.

When we walked through the front door, Veronica greeted us with open arms.

“My babies!” she said, throwing her arms around us both. “I couldn’t wait to see you both again.”

“Cole’s been wondering what you’ve cooked, Mom,” Linda laughed as she kicked off her shoes.

“I made your favorite, son,” Veronica said. “My special chili!”

That alone was worth the trip.

After dinner, we sat around the living room, laughing and looking through old photo albums. Veronica pulled out pictures of Linda as a child, grinning in her school uniform or with wild hair during her “rebellious phase.”

“Jeez, Mom,” Linda groaned. “Why do you still have all those embarrassing photos?”

“So that I can embarrass you, duh!” Veronica laughed. “It’s a mom’s job.”

We all laughed at the photos, teasing Linda about her questionable hairstyles.

It was all fun and lighthearted, until I turned a page, and my blood ran cold.

I stared at a picture of Linda with her father. The room seemed to close in around me. I recognized his face instantly, even though I had never connected the dots before.

The beer bottle in my hand started to shake, and I realized the truth in that one paralyzing moment.

I had killed her father. Linda’s father.

Without thinking, I blurted it out.

“I’m so sorry to say this, but I’m the reason your father is dead. Linda, I killed him.”

Linda’s laughter died on her lips. Her face shifted from confusion to disbelief, her eyes searching mine as if waiting for me to take it back.

“What do you mean, Cole?” she asked, her voice a whisper. “My father died over twenty years ago. How could you be the reason for his death?”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening with guilt and fear.

“Do you remember I told you that my family lived in Phoenix for about a year when I was ten?”

Linda and her mother nodded slowly, their expressions wary, like they knew the biggest shock of our lives was coming.

I took a deep breath.

“One afternoon, I was riding my bike. I loved riding before dinner. Just a few blocks back and forth, you know? But that day, the sun was so bright, and I wasn’t paying attention. I swerved into the wrong lane. There was a car coming. The driver… he swerved to avoid hitting me. He lost control and crashed into a tree.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at either of them.

My gaze was fixed on the photo in front of me.

“I remember seeing the crash from where I stood. I was frozen. I didn’t know what to do, so I sat on the curb and watched as the paramedics arrived. I didn’t know who he was, but I saw the article in the newspaper the next day. It was the man in this photo. Your father. Linda, he died while saving me.”

Veronica’s hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. The silence that followed was suffocating.

“I didn’t know,” I whispered. “I didn’t know he was your dad, Linda. Not until I saw this photo tonight.”

The weight of the truth pressed down on me like a thousand bricks.

“I understand if you want to call off the wedding,” I said. “I’d do anything for you, Linda. Even if it means letting you walk away. What I did… it’s unforgivable.”

Linda stared at me, her face completely unreadable. I expected her to shout, to cry, to tell me to leave and never come back. But instead, she reached for my beer bottle, took a swig, and set it down.

“I think it’s fate that we met, Cole,” she said softly, reaching for my hand.

“And I think my dad saved you for a reason. You were a child, Cole. You didn’t know. And I can’t blame you for that. I can’t blame my father for wanting to protect you, either. He did what any father would do. And… I forgive you.”

Her words hit me like a wave.

I stood up, needing to catch my breath. Linda stood up too and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

That’s when I broke down, silent tears streaming down my face as I held her close.

Veronica stood up too, joining the hug. I didn’t know if she’d ever forgive me, but in that moment, she embraced me just the same.

It’s been a week since the truth came out, and I’m sitting on the porch, writing my vows. I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of closure. I’ll never forget what happened, but I’ve been given a second chance.

“Cole, you’re my favorite person in the entire world,” Linda said to me. “Nothing is going to change that, I promise you.”

“Well, if you could forgive such a big thing… Linda, I’ll forever make it up to you,” I said, not quite sure of what to say.

Now, it’s the evening before the wedding, and everything feels heavier than I expected. The excitement of planning, choosing the right flowers, and tasting cake samples has been replaced with this oppressive weight in my chest.

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in our hotel room, my tie undone, staring at the floor. Linda’s across from me, fixing her makeup in the mirror as we get ready for the rehearsal dinner.

My goodness, she’s beautiful, I thought.

I couldn’t help but feel the familiar guilt creeping back in.

“Linda,” I said softly, breaking the quiet.

She met my eye in the mirror, pausing for a moment before turning around to face me.

“What is it?” she asked gently, sensing my unease.

“I just… I keep thinking about tomorrow,” I confessed. “About how your dad’s not going to be there. You should have him walking down the aisle, and… I’m the reason that you won’t.”

Linda stood up and walked over to me. She sat down on the bed and grabbed my hand.

“Darling, we’ve been over this,” she said. “You didn’t take my father away from me. He saved you. He saved you for me. That’s the kind of man he was. He would have protected any child that day.”

I shook my head, my throat tightening.

“But it should have been him walking with you tomorrow. I took that moment away.”

“I’ve had years to come to terms with my dad being gone,” she said. “Do I wish he could be there tomorrow? Of course. But I also believe that in some way, he will be. He’s a part of our story now, Cole. Because of what he did for you, and because we found each other.”

This was it. The Grand Oak Hotel was the place where my career would either take flight or crash and burn.

I glanced at my watch, feeling my heart drumming against my ribs. Where was she?

I had resorted to desperate measures to secure this promotion. Mr. Fernandes, my boss, was a family man, and he often hinted that a stable home life translated to dedication at work.

So, I’d done the unthinkable – hired an actress to play my wife for the hour-long dinner with him.

Just as my anxiety peaked, a vision in an emerald green dress entered the restaurant. It was Autumn, the actress, her fiery red hair cascading down her shoulders.

But she wasn’t alone.

A towheaded boy, clutching a well-worn stuffed dinosaur, trailed behind her.

“Ivan, meet Oliver,” she said with a gentle smile, but her eyes also showed chagrin. “I’m sorry. His dad was supposed to pick him up, but…”

She shrugged. I was surprised, but as I stared at the boy, I knew this could work in my favor.

“Hello, Oliver,” I greeted, offering my hand.

He looked up at me with wide, curious eyes before taking it in his small grasp. “Are you really my new dad?” he asked, stunning all of us.

I felt a pang in my chest, although I couldn’t define why. “Just for tonight, buddy,” I replied, clearing my throat and ruffling his hair.

We settled at our table, and I tried to make small talk, but my nerves got the better of me. Luckily, Oliver managed to break the ice with his childish curiosity.

“What do you do, Ivan?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the menu.

“I work with numbers,” I replied, trying to simplify my job as a financial analyst.

“Like a math teacher?”

“Something like that,” I chuckled, relieved.

My boss arrived, and I introduced Autumn as my wife and Oliver as my son. He gave me a proud, wide smile that I relished.

I wanted to spend the rest of our dinner focused on him, but as the hour progressed, I was drawn to Oliver’s infectious laughter and Autumn’s warm smile.

We shared stories with Mr. Fernandes, and laughed at his jokes, with Oliver adding his own. We even built a makeshift fort out of napkins.

It felt… natural.

For the first time in a long while, I wasn’t just Ivan, the workaholic. I was Ivan, the pretend husband and father, sharing a meal with my family and my boss.

As dessert arrived – a towering chocolate cake – I found myself lost in thought.

This charade was supposed to be a means to an end, a stepping stone to my promotion.

But as I watched Autumn cleaning Oliver’s mouth with the cloth napkin, a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with ambition.

The dinner ended after one hour because Mr. Fernandes had another appointment, but he made me promise to bring Autumn and Oliver to the office party in two weeks.

My eyes widened, but the idea didn’t sound bad at all.

Autumn agreed to act like my wife for the office party, too, but I decided to ask her blatantly if we could see each other before that to get to know one another more.

I felt lighter when she nodded and gave me a flirty smile before walking away.

Oliver waved me goodbye enthusiastically.

***

The following week, I was nervously pacing my apartment, awaiting Autumn and Oliver’s arrival.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. I opened it to find Autumn, radiant in a simple sundress, and Oliver clinging to her hand with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” I announced, gesturing them inside.

Oliver’s eyes lit up as he took in the spacious living room. “Whoa, it’s like a castle!” he exclaimed, racing towards the plush sofa.

Autumn laughed. “Oliver, please behave,” she chided gently, but there was no real heat in her tone.

We spent the evening playing board games, watching silly cartoons, and indulging in a pizza feast.

I told myself this was so we could play the part of a family better for the longer office party, but I knew I was lying to myself.

I liked spending time with Autumn, and surprisingly, with Oliver, too.

Days later, as we sat on a park bench, watching Oliver chase butterflies, I confessed, “I never thought I’d enjoy spending time with a kid. But Oliver… he’s amazing.”

Autumn smiled, her eyes sparkling in the warm evening. “He’s a handful, but he’s my everything.”

“You’re an amazing mother,” I said, reaching for her hand.

Her fingers linked with mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me. “You’re not so bad yourself, Ivan.”

At that moment, under the soft glow of the moonlight, I knew. I was falling in love with Autumn, and with Oliver, too.

This wasn’t just a charade anymore; it was the beginning of something real.

***

The office party buzzed with energy. Dressed in a sleek suit, I navigated through the crowd, my eyes searching for the familiar flash of Autumn’s red hair.

Autumn arrived in a dazzling silver dress, her hand intertwined with Oliver’s, who was sporting a miniature tuxedo. They were a vision, radiating warmth and joy.

My heart swelled with pride and a sense of belonging I hadn’t known existed.

As we mingled with colleagues, I introduced Autumn as my wife to keep up with my lie. In all honesty, I felt like she was already my partner.

Moreover, I was shocked at how good it felt to tell others Oliver was my son.

The night was going perfectly. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

As I refilled our glasses at the bar, a man’s voice jolted me back to reality. I turned to see a new figure joining us, dressed just as elegantly.

I didn’t know him, but he knew my fake wife.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Autumn,” he sneered, his eyes raking over her with barely concealed disdain. “What are you doing here?”

“Dan, I’m here with my…ugh boyfriend, Ivan,” she replied and looked at me with apologetic eyes. “Dan’s my ex-husband. I didn’t know he was invited.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed at me. He didn’t know me, either. If I had to guess, he worked in another department. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been at this company party.

Suddenly, he smiled. “So, this is your wife, huh? The one you’ve been bragging about?”

I felt other coworkers’ eyes on us.

I shifted, getting close to Autumn. “Actually,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “Autumn is my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Dan scoffed, his voice rising with every word. “But you’ve been telling others she’s your wife. Honey, is this the man who hired you to play his wife? You know Autumn is an actress, right?”

My blood ran cold because he was doing this on purpose.

“Dan, stop it,” Autumn pleaded.

But her ex-husband was relentless. “It’s okay, Autumn. Let everyone know the truth. How much did he pay you, anyway?”

Silence surrounded us. We had everyone’s confused and undivided attention.

I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, and the sweat dripping down my back. Just as I was about to confess, a small hand tugged on my sleeve.

“Don’t listen to him, Ivan,” Oliver piped up, his voice surprisingly firm for a seven-year-old. “You’re way better than my dad ever was.”

Dan’s mouth dropped open, and tears welled up in Autumn’s eyes as she knelt to hug Oliver close.

Just then, Mr. Fernandes appeared, drawn by the commotion. He took in the scene, his gaze shifting from Dan to me and finally to Autumn and Oliver.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, quirking one eyebrow.

So, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the inevitable fallout. “I need to explain everything,” I began.

***

The car ride home was filled with relief, joy, and a newfound sense of purpose. I stole small glances at Autumn and Oliver in the rearview mirror, their faces glowing in the dim light.

A few minutes later, we pulled up to Autumn’s modest apartment building, and Oliver broke the silence with his sleepy voice. “Ivan, can you come in for a bit?”

I looked at Autumn, who offered a shy smile and a nod.

Stepping inside, the apartment felt warm and inviting. Oliver was already half asleep, so he gave me a quick hug before heading off to bed.

I lingered around the living room while Autumn finished making sure he was tucked in.

When she returned, I was unsure how to broach the topic that had been weighing on my heart.

Autumn chuckled and took my hand, leading me to her small balcony. The night breeze and the sounds from the street below were more calming than I expected.

“Thank you for tonight,” she started, grinning up. “And for everything.”

“Don’t thank me,” I replied, my gaze locked on hers. “I should be thanking you. I told the truth, and Mr. Fernandes was still impressed because you, Oliver, and I were already acting like a family.”

It was insane, but my boss hadn’t batted an eye.

He even told me we would speak again on Monday about my promotion and gave me a wink before moving away to talk to other people.

With his approval, other coworkers lost interest in our huddle. And Dan… walked away like a punished dog.

Autumn smiled wider and buried her face in my chest. A comfortable silence settled between us, with only a few car honks interrupting it.

“Autumn,” I said, clearing my throat, “I… I need to tell you something.”

She looked up, her eyes searching mine.

“I’ve fallen in love with you,” I confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “And with Oliver, too.”

“I love you too, Ivan,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

It happened fast, but it was real. It felt natural going to bed after our declarations, and I experienced more in that one night than in all my years.

“There’s something important I need to talk about,” my husband, Daniel, said, his voice unusually strained. At that point, my excitement for our fancy anniversary dinner sizzled out faster than a forgotten birthday candle.

We had reservations at 8 p.m., and all afternoon I’d been looking for the perfect outfit for our little Ben, while also folding mountains of laundry and reheating last night’s dinner.

Being a full-time stay-at-home mother wasn’t easy, especially when I had to look after my one-year-old son.

I met Daniel at the bustling investment firm where I used to work. My brain, sharp as a tack, thrived in the fast-paced world of finance.

Numbers danced in my head like a well-rehearsed ballet.

But then, the doctor’s words shattered our dreams like a dropped crystal vase.

“Infertility,” he said. “There might be some complications with conceiving naturally.”

Later that night, curled up on the couch with takeout boxes scattered around us, we talked. “Maybe it’s not meant to be,” I whispered as tears rolled down my cheeks.

Daniel cupped my face, his thumb wiping away a stray tear. “Ava,” he said. “If anything, this makes me want you more. We’ll figure this out, together. Maybe adoption…”

The seed of hope he planted took root in my heart.

That night, we made a pact to face whatever challenges came our way, as long as we faced them together.

Marriage wasn’t just about having a family, it was about building a life with the person who made you feel whole, even when pieces seemed missing.

A few months later, standing at the altar, tears welled up in my eyes again, this time a mixture of joy and relief. “I do,” I whispered.

As he kissed me that day, I felt lucky to have him by my side.

Soon, fertility treatments became our new normal. One evening, after a particularly grueling round of tests, I found Daniel staring out the window. He looked defeated.

“Maybe it’s time I resign,” I offered. My career, once a source of immense pride, felt insignificant compared to the yearning in my heart.

Daniel turned around. “Are you sure? You love your job.”

“There’s something more important,” I said, taking his hand. “You. Us. Building our family and looking after this house. I think I need to be at home more than anywhere else.”

With a hesitant nod, Daniel agreed.

Soon after I resigned, a new chapter of my life unfolded.

It was filled with doctor visits, support groups, and the quiet ache of longing. But through it all, Daniel was my rock.

Finally, after lots of medicine and appointments, Ben arrived. We were so emotional when we first looked at our tiny miracle wrapped in a blanket.

Our little family, messy and perfect all at once, became my whole world.

Last Monday was our fifth anniversary. I couldn’t believe it had been five years since we tied the knot. Time flies, doesn’t it?

The last five years felt like five decades of laughter, late-night talks, and shoulder-to-shoulder battles through life’s storms.

Looking back, a warm wave of gratitude washed over me for having Daniel by my side.

Excitement bubbled as I envisioned a romantic dinner, a night to celebrate this milestone. I couldn’t wait to see the surprise in Daniel’s eyes when I revealed the reservation I’d snagged at that fancy Italian place we always talked about.

Grabbing my phone, I dialed his number. “Hey, honey! Guess what?” I chirped.

“Hey,” he answered. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking about tonight! Where are we planning to go? Do you have anything special planned?”

A beat of silence followed, then, “Ava, there’s no need to go anywhere fancy. We’re not doing anything special tonight. No presents either.”

“Oh,” I managed, the disappointment clinging to me like a damp sweater.

“Just wait at home, okay? I’ll be there soon. We need to talk.”

Then, the line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone. What could be so important to ruin our anniversary night? Why was Daniel acting like that?

I was sitting in the living room, watching Ben play with his toy cars when the front door creaked open. Daniel walked in. His shoulders were slumped and he didn’t look like the confident man who returned home from work every day.

“Hey,” I greeted. “Rough day?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he mumbled.

A knot of worry tightened in my stomach. Daniel rarely brought work stress home, and his silence was deafening.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Just… come here,” he said, heading towards the kitchen.

I followed him, and he pulled out a chair for me after reaching the kitchen table.

“Sit,” he said.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, my voice tinged with worry.

“Not really,” Daniel replied coldly.

Then, he shuffled some papers on the table.

“What is it, Daniel?”

“There’s something important I need to talk about,” he said, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ve thought a lot about this and I finally decided to discuss it with you.”

I felt a shiver crawl down my spine. Something important? What could it be?

“Look at these,” he pushed the papers across the table towards me.

Curious, I quickly picked up the document and scanned it. The papers were filled with numbers and columns. I could tell it was a budget breakdown.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“I’ll explain,” Daniel said.

He took a deep breath before dropping the bomb that turned my life upside down.

“I took some time to calculate how much you have cost me over the years together, and this is devastating,” he began. “By now, with this money, I could have bought a house or a private jet. But all I have is a wife sitting at home and living off me. I need you to pay it back to me before I start resenting you for all of my wasted potential.”

His words hit me like a physical blow. I was speechless.

After all the years I’d dedicated to their family, after all the sacrifices I’d made, he had the audacity to accuse me of wasting his potential. How could he do this to me?

This was so much more than a bad anniversary present; it was heartbreaking.

“Okay,” I managed to say. “I will pay you back, but only if you give me some time to figure out how.”

“Sure,” he said as he rose from his seat and turned around. “I can wait. I’m glad you understood what I wanted to say.”

“I understood more than you think,” I looked into his eyes. “But you better believe, this conversation isn’t over.”

Not only did Daniel waste the anniversary dinner reservation that evening, but he also broke my heart into a million pieces.

Looking at those papers, it was clear he’d calculated every penny he’d spent on me, including the groceries I’d bought to feed our family. I couldn’t believe the audacity of the man I’d married.

The final number scrawled at the bottom nearly took my breath away. $300,000.

That was supposedly the cost of my life with him over the past four years, after I’d given up my own career to raise Ben and manage our household.

Seeing those numbers on the document fueled a fire in my gut. He was going to learn a very expensive lesson.

Over the next few days, a simmering rage kept me company. While Daniel seemed oblivious and went about his routine as if nothing had happened, I spent my nights meticulously documenting the value of everything I’d contributed to our marriage.

The cooking, the cleaning, the emotional support… it all went on a spreadsheet. I even included the salary I’d sacrificed by choosing to be his stay-at-home wife.

The once lively atmosphere of our house had been choked by a thick silence. Daniel would try to make conversation, but my responses were clipped and short.