My family turned their backs on me when I left journalism to become a private detective. They saw it as a disgrace, and I started to wonder if they were right. No clients, no money, just regrets. But then a teenage girl walked into my office, searching for her mother—and her case changed everything.
I was sitting in my small, dimly lit office, sorting through the week’s mail. Bills, bills, bills, advertisements, more bills. The usual.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I let out a heavy sigh and set the letters aside, covering my face with my hands.
I used to be a journalist—a successful one, I must say—but I always felt like it wasn’t enough.
Stories were always unfinished, truths half-exposed, and justice left waiting. So, at 42, I quit my job and decided to become a private detective.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It was something that truly interested me, something I had always wanted to do.
My family didn’t support me. They tried to talk me out of it, but when they realized my mind was made up, they turned their backs on me.
My husband finally had a reason to leave me for a younger woman—one with shinier hair, fewer wrinkles, and, I assumed, fewer opinions.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And my daughter? She cut me out of her life completely. She saw being a private detective as disgraceful—especially when compared to the prestige of journalism.
Of course, it hurt. But the longer I worked as a private detective, the more I started to wonder if they had been right.
I hadn’t had a new client in nearly three months, and I had plenty of debt. People didn’t believe in a female private investigator.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Men were assumed to be better at solving cases—stronger, sharper, tougher. As if intuition, patience, and persistence didn’t count.
Suddenly, even surprisingly, I heard a hesitant knock at the door. I straightened up, quickly smoothing my hair and shoving the pile of bills into a drawer.
“Come in!” I called out.
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The doorknob turned slowly, and the door creaked open. A girl, about fifteen, stepped inside.
She hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her clothes were too small—cheap, second-hand, sleeves of her sweater jagged as if they’d been cut off.
“How can I help you?” I asked, motioning to the chair across from my desk.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She sat down carefully, pulling her sleeves over her hands, her long, unkempt hair kept falling into her face. She brushed it away absently, over and over.
One thing was clear—she didn’t have a mother. I had taught my daughter how to braid her hair when she was six. This girl had no idea what to do with hers.
“My name is Emily,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I’m an orphan. I need your help to find my mother.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I studied her face. She looked nervous, but her eyes held something else—determination.
“She gave you up?” I asked.
Emily nodded. “Yes. I don’t know anything about her. Not her name, not what she looks like. Nothing.”
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She swallowed hard. “I’m fifteen now. No one is going to adopt me at this point. But I want to find her. I just want to see her. I need to understand why she left me.”
Her words stung. No child should feel unwanted. No child should wonder why they weren’t enough.
“I’ll need something to go on,” I said, reaching for my notebook.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Emily sat up straighter. “I was born in this town. I’ve never moved, never been sent anywhere else.” She took a breath. “My birthday is February 15, 2009.”
I jotted it down.
“Is that enough?” she asked, her fingers gripping the edge of her sweater.
“I’ll do everything I can,” I promised.
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She hesitated, then pulled a few crumpled bills from her pocket. “I have some money, but not much.”
It wasn’t even close to what I needed, but that didn’t matter.
“If I find her, then you can pay me,” I said.
Her lips trembled. “Thank you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She stood to leave.
“Wait. How can I find you?” I asked.
She scribbled an address and handed it to me. “My foster home. I’ll be there.”
I nodded, and she walked out.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I wasted no time. It had been a long time since I had worked on a real case.
Even though I knew I wouldn’t make any money from this one—I couldn’t, in good conscience, take money from an orphan—it still felt good to have a purpose.
The first place I went was the hospital. Our town had only one, which made things easier.
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If Emily’s mother had given birth there, the records would be somewhere inside.
One advantage of my former job was that I had connections everywhere. The hospital was no exception.
I knew exactly who to talk to—Camilla. She had been a nurse for years, and we had met back when I was covering a story about harassment in hospitals.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She had been a source then. Since that day, she’d been a friend. As soon as she spotted me, she put down her clipboard and grinned.
“Sara!” she said, pulling me into a quick hug. “What brings you here? Please don’t say trouble.”
“I need your help,” I said, leaning in slightly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Camilla raised an eyebrow. “Of course you do. You never just stop by to visit an old friend, do you?”
I crossed my arms. “You were literally at my house for dinner last week.”
She smirked. “Fine. What do you need?”
“Birth records. February 15, 2009.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She blinked. “That’s specific. Should I be worried?”
“Nothing illegal. I just need to find a name.”
Camilla folded her arms. “That’s doable, but make it fast.”
I hesitated. “The baby was given up, probably in secret.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her expression changed. “Sara, you know I can’t just hand you confidential records.”
“Please,” I said. “Just a quick look. No one will even notice.”
She studied me, then sighed. “You have ten minutes.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I owe you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She rolled her eyes. “You owe me for life.”
She led me through a narrow hallway to the hospital archives. The air smelled of dust and old paper.
Camilla pulled out a thick folder labeled 2009 – Abandoned Newborns and handed it to me.
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“Be quick,” she whispered.
I flipped through the pages, my fingers trembling. February 15. My eyes locked on the mother’s name. My breath caught.
No. This couldn’t be real.
I shoved the file back and hurried out.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Camilla stood by the door. “Sara, you’re as pale as a ghost. What happened?”
“I’ll explain later,” I muttered, pushing past her. I needed air.
I stood outside a house I had never seen before. The air felt heavy, pressing down on me.
Emily’s case had become the hardest of my career. Too personal. Too close.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I stared at the door. My hands felt numb. I couldn’t bring myself to ring the bell.
I took a breath and reached for the doorbell. My hand hovered over it. I could still turn around, pretend I never came. But that wasn’t an option. Not for Emily.
I pressed the button. The chime echoed inside. Footsteps approached.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The door opened, and I saw her.
Her face paled. Her lips parted in shock. “Mom?”
I swallowed hard. My throat felt tight. “Hi.”
Meredith blinked. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the door. “What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear—I don’t want to see you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I met her gaze. “I wouldn’t have come if this were about me.”
Her eyes darkened. “Then why are you here?”
I took a deep breath. “For your daughter.”
The color drained from her face. Her whole body tensed. “How… how did you—” She couldn’t finish.
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Her breath hitched. Tears filled her eyes. Then, without a word, she stepped aside and let me in.
The kitchen was small but neat. She moved stiffly, as if her body wasn’t sure what to do. She pulled out a chair and sat down.
I stayed standing for a moment, then sat across from her. Silence filled the space between us.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Her name is Emily, if you’re wondering,” I said. “No one ever adopted her. She’s been living with foster families. She came to me to find her mother, but I never imagined—”
Meredith squeezed her hands together. “Please stop,” she whispered.
I waited.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I have regretted it my whole life,” she said, her voice breaking. “I tried to forget. I told myself it was the best thing. That she’d have a better life without me. And now you show up out of nowhere to remind me what a terrible person I am.”
“You’re not terrible. You were a child yourself when she was born. I just don’t understand how you hid it. How did your father and I not know?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I wore loose clothes. My belly wasn’t that big. And I planned to give birth in another town, but you and Dad went abroad for your work right before it happened. So it all worked out,” she said.
“Tell her I couldn’t be found,” Meredith said suddenly.
“Why?” I asked. “Meredith, I’m a mother too. I know what it’s like to lose a child. Nothing is more painful than that.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She lowered her gaze. Her voice trembled. “How can I face her? She’ll hate me.”
I let her words hang in the air. “Maybe,” I admitted. “But even so, she wanted to find you. That means something.”
Meredith wiped at her eyes. “What if she doesn’t want me?”
“She wants answers. She wants to know where she came from. You owe her that.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She looked away. I knew she resented me. But I reminded myself—this wasn’t about us. It was about Emily.
“I have her address,” I said. “Do you want to see her?”
Meredith hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded.
We drove in silence. The streetlights flickered as we passed. When we reached the house, Meredith didn’t move. Her fingers dug into her lap.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Aren’t you coming?” she asked.
I shook my head. “This is between you two.”
She looked down. Her voice broke. “Mom… I regret cutting you out. I was ashamed.”
I turned to her. “You are my daughter. No matter what, I will always love you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her face crumpled, and she reached for me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her the way I had when she was little.
“What you’re doing is important,” she whispered. “People like Emily need you.”
I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Then she stepped out, walked to the door, and knocked.
A moment later, Emily appeared. They stared at each other. Then Meredith took a breath. Emily took a step forward.
They talked. They cried. And then Emily wrapped her arms around her mother.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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I Told My Date about My Specific 3-Year-Rule, but He Immediately Left and Blocked Me – Is It Really That Weird?
Addison’s life revolves around her demanding job as a neurologist, leaving little time for romance. When her cheerful coworker Nathan sets her up on a blind date with a seemingly perfect guy named Jake, she finally feels a spark of hope. However, after Addison shares her three-year dating rule, her date abruptly leaves. What went wrong?
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I always thought my life would stay the same.
Day in and day out, the hospital consumed all my time.
A smiling young doctor | Source: Midjourney
My name is Addison, and I work as a neurologist. My days are filled with patients, charts, and endless rounds.
It’s a fulfilling job, but it leaves little room for anything else, especially dating.
A busy young woman | Source: Midjourney
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One day, while grabbing a quick coffee in the break room, my coworker Nathan walked in with a bright smile on his face.
Nathan is always in a good mood, no matter how stressful the day gets.
A smiling doctor | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Addison,” Nathan said, leaning against the counter. “How do you feel about blind dates?”
I laughed, almost spilling my coffee. “Blind dates? Nathan, you know my schedule. I barely have time to eat, let alone date.”
Two professionals laughing and chatting | Source: Midjourney
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Nathan chuckled. “I know, but hear me out. My friend Jake is a great guy. He’s kind, funny, and I think you two would hit it off. What do you say?”
I paused, considering it. I hadn’t been on a date in ages, and the idea of meeting someone new was intriguing. Plus, Nathan seemed genuinely excited about it.
A couple enjoying drinks | Source: Pexels
“Okay, then,” I said, smiling. “You’ve convinced me. When’s this magical date happening?”
Nathan’s face lit up. “Really?? How about next Tuesday night? It’s the only evening that works for both of you!”
A doctor with his arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
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Next Tuesday. I mentally checked my calendar. It was one of the rare nights I didn’t have a late shift or any other commitments.
“Next Tuesday works for me,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
A female doctor talking to a male doctor | Source: Midjourney
Nathan grinned. “Great! I’ll set it up and text you the details. You won’t regret this, Addison,” he said with a wink.
“We’ll see that,” I laughed and finished my coffee quickly.
A smiling doctor | Source: Midjourney
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As I walked back to my office, I felt both excited and nervous. It had been so long since I had gone on a date.
My life had become a routine of work and more work, with little time for anything else. But maybe this was what I needed — a chance to step out of my comfort zone.
A doctor lost in her work | Source: Midjourney
The rest of the day flew by in a blur of patient consultations and medical charts. But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about the upcoming date. Maybe, just maybe, this blind date with Jake would be the start of something new.
On Tuesday night, I arrived at the quaint restaurant Nathan had suggested.
Inside a restaurant | Source: Freepik
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It was cozy, with dim lighting and a warm ambiance that immediately put me at ease. As I walked in, I spotted a man sitting at a table near the window.
He looked up, smiled, and waved me over.
This must be Jake, I thought to myself.
A smiling man at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Addison?” he asked as I approached the table.
“Yes, and you must be Jake,” I replied with a smile.
A couple on a date | Source: Freepik
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We shook hands, and I took a seat. Almost immediately, the waitress came over to take our drink orders.
“I’ll have a glass of red wine, please,” I said.
“I’ll have the same,” Jake added.
Two people enjoying wine | Source: Freepik
As the waitress left, we started chatting. Jake was easy to talk to, and I felt my initial nervousness melt away.
“So, Nathan tells me you’re a neurologist,” he said, looking genuinely interested. “That must be a challenging job.”
A couple lost in each other’s eyes | Source: Freepik
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“It is,” I nodded. “But I love it. What about you? What do you do?”
“I’m a graphic designer,” Jake replied. “I work freelance, so my schedule is pretty flexible. It’s a lot of fun, especially when I get to work on creative projects.”
A person working on their laptop | Source: Pexels
Our drinks arrived, and we ordered appetizers — stuffed mushrooms and bruschetta. As we nibbled on the delicious food, we continued to talk about our lives, hobbies, and interests.
“I love hiking and photography,” Jake said, taking a sip of his wine. “There’s something about being in nature that’s so refreshing.”
A male photographer | Source: Pexels
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“I’ve always wanted to get into photography,” I said. “But I never seem to find the time. Maybe you could give me some tips?”
“I’d love to,” Jake said with a smile. “It’s all about finding the right light and angle.”
A woman with a camera | Source: Pexels
As the evening went on, I found myself more and more charmed by Jake. He was kind, funny, and easy to talk to.
We laughed a lot, and it felt like I had known him for much longer than just one evening.
A cozy couple | Source: Freepik
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As we moved on to our main course, Jake looked at me with a smile. “So, Addison, how about we ask each other some more personal questions to break the ice further?”
“Sure, that sounds good,” I said. “What do you want to know?”
Food | Source: Unsplash
Jake leaned in slightly. “How about your one-to-five-year plan? What are your goals?”
I took a moment to think. “Well, I hope to advance in my career as a neurologist,” I began.
A woman staring at her man | Source: Freepik
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“Maybe get promoted to a senior position. I also want to decorate my apartment; it feels too plain right now,” I continued. “I’ve been thinking about getting a pet, maybe a cat or a small dog. And I’d love to travel more, see new places, and experience different cultures. Oh, and I want to expand my bookshelf with my favorite novels. I love reading!”
Pile of books and cup on top | Source: Unsplash
“That sounds wonderful. You have a lot of exciting plans!” he grinned.
“What about you?” I asked, curious to hear about his future plans.
“I want to grow my freelance business,” Jake said. “Maybe open my own studio one day. I also love traveling, so I’d like to visit more countries. And, believe it or not, I’ve been thinking about getting a pet too. A dog, probably.”
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A dog | Source: Unsplash
We laughed at the coincidence, and it felt nice to find common ground!
“So, how do you feel about marriage and family?” Jake further asked as he sipped his wine.
And this is where it all went horribly wrong.
A family | Source: Unsplash
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“Honestly, I’d love to find a partner to share my life with,” I told him, “someone who understands and supports me. But marriage isn’t a necessity for me. If it happens, great, but if not, that’s okay too. As for children, I don’t see myself having any. For now. I’m happy with my career and personal goals.”
Jake leaned forward, looking serious. “What if you found the perfect guy? How long before you’d marry him?”
Two people smiling at each other and standing close | Source: Freepik
“Three years,” I said. “I believe in building a strong foundation. Six months to really get to know someone, a year of serious dating, and a year and a half of living together before considering engagement or marriage.”
Jake’s face changed, his friendly expression replaced by a frown. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Three years? That’s a long time. What if someone wants a quicker timeline?”
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An upset man | Source: Midjourney
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. “Well, uh, I think it’s important to take time to build a strong relationship. I’m pretty confident about my three-year-plan.”
Jake’s frown deepened, and he abruptly called the waitress. “Check, please,” he said curtly. She looked confused but quickly brought the bill.
A waitress | Source: Pexels
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“Jake, what’s wrong?” I asked as he stood up, but he didn’t bother to answer. He paid and walked out of the restaurant without a glance back.
I sat there, stunned and hurt. What just happened?
Later, at home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the evening.
A woman staring at her reflection | Source: Pexels
How could Jake just leave like that?
Deciding I needed answers, I messaged him.
I sent a selfie we took together and wrote, “Hey Jake, why did you leave so suddenly? I thought we were having a great time.”
A woman using her phone | Source: Unsplash
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A few minutes later, his reply came: “Don’t contact me again. You’re indecisive and not serious about what you want.”
Then, he blocked me.
I stared at my phone in disbelief. Was I really that off base?
The next day at work, I noticed Nathan giving me strange glances. Gathering my courage, I decided to confront him.
A man holding a phone in his hands | Source: Unsplash
“Nathan, what did Jake tell you? You know why he left, don’t you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Nathan looked uncomfortable and shifted on his feet. “You messed it up, Addy,” he said. “Jake… told me you were wasting his time. He wanted something serious. He was looking for marriage, and you… you weren’t the best person for him. Sorry, I gotta go.”
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A sad doc | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t believe it.
During my lunch break, I called my best friend, Sophie.
“Hey, Addison. How did the date go?” was the first thing she asked.
A cheerful woman on video call | Source: Pexels
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I sighed, feeling the weight of the evening pressing on me. “It started great, but then it ended terribly. Jake left abruptly after I talked about my three-year plan, and then he blocked me when I asked him why.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “He did what? That’s ridiculous! What exactly happened?”
A sad young doctor | Source: Midjourney
I recounted every detail, my voice trembling slightly as I relived the evening. When I finished, Sophie shook her head. “Addison, being honest about your expectations is important. If he couldn’t handle that, it’s his loss.”
“I can’t stop wondering if my three-year rule is really that strange, Sophie,” I admitted, my voice breaking a bit.
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An anxious doctor | Source: Midjourney
“Not at all,” Sophie said firmly. “Everyone has their own timeline and needs. What matters is that you stay true to yourself. If he couldn’t appreciate that, he wasn’t the right guy for you.”
Her words wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. But it didn’t ease all my worries. Was I wrong to be upfront about my expectations? Should I have kept it to myself? All I know is that being honest about what I want is important, even if it means losing a date like Jake.
A doctor focused on her work | Source: Midjourney
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What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one: Julia is excited to surprise her husband on his birthday, but everything changes when she hears an unexpected voice. Hiding in the living room, her heart pounds as her husband’s laughter mingles with another woman’s. What will Julia uncover?
A couple | Source: Unsplash
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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