‘You’re Just a Babysitter, Not a Real Man,’ My Wife Said Before Leaving Me with Three Kids — Story of the Day

I thought I had it all—a loving wife, three amazing kids, and a life we built together. But the night I followed her to that party, everything I believed in came crashing down.

My day always started with the familiar symphony of chaos. Timmy’s sharp cries came from his crib. Kevin crashed his toy cars together on the carpet, making explosion sounds. Meanwhile, Emma stood in front of me.

“Daddy, I have to wear my pink dress today. Everyone will love it. It’s the most amazing dress ever!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I nodded as I tied her hair into a neat bow.

“Of course, sweetheart. Everyone will be impressed.”

The warm, sweet aroma of chocolate cookies wafted from the kitchen. My cookies were my signature, baked and ready for the kids’ lunch snack. While the oven did its job, I focused on stitching the last piece of Kevin’s dinosaur costume.

“This has to be the coolest dino ever, Dad!” Kevin said, leaning over the table to inspect my work.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“It will be, buddy,” I reassured him. “Just you wait.”

In the background, a soft audiobook played. It wasn’t much, just something to keep the kids entertained. Those moments brought me peace. They reminded me that no matter how much life had changed, I still had something to hold on to.

But it hadn’t always been that way.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I used to run a successful business. Long days and nights of hard work allowed Angela and me to buy this house and pay for her law school. She had dreams, big ones, and I wanted to make them come true.

When Emma was born, she asked me to stay home temporarily so she could finish her internship. I agreed, thinking it was just for a little while. Then Kevin came along, and Angela’s career took off.

“I’ll handle the house and kids,” I told her. “You focus on work.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Angela didn’t even take maternity leave with Kevin, rushing back to work just two months after giving birth. Promotion after promotion followed, and her time at home dwindled to nothing.

I became the one who fed the kids, read parenting books, and even baked birthday cakes. I didn’t mind. I was proud of how capable I’d become.

That afternoon, as I stitched the last seam of Kevin’s costume, Angela came home earlier than usual. She didn’t greet me or the kids. Instead, she rushed to the bedroom.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

A few minutes later, she appeared in the hallway, transformed. Her black dress hugged her figure perfectly, and her red lipstick glistened under the light. She looked stunning.

“There’s a work party tonight. I need to be there,” she said, adjusting her earrings.

“A work party?” I asked. “You didn’t mention anything. I could’ve gone with you.”

“It’s late. It’s for work. You wouldn’t enjoy it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I stood there, watching her leave without a backward glance. For a moment, an idea sparked.

I grabbed the phone and dialed our neighbor, Mrs. Graham.

“Hi, could you watch the kids for a couple of hours tonight?”

With her agreement, I turned off the oven, slipped into my best shirt, and grabbed a bouquet of Angela’s favorite lilies.

“Tonight,” I murmured, “I’ll remind her of what we used to have.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The party was alive with energy when I stepped into the venue. The music pulsed through the air, and the room shimmered with expensive fabrics and sparkling jewelry. I felt a little out of place in my simple shirt and slacks, clutching a bouquet of lilies like a lovesick teenager.

As my eyes scanned the crowd, they landed on Angela. She was on stage, the center of attention. She looked breathtaking like someone who had just walked off the cover of a glossy magazine.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as I listened to her speech. Her words flowed effortlessly, and the audience hung onto every sentence.

My wife is brilliant. My Angela. How did I get so lucky?

I adjusted my grip on the lilies, imagining her smile after getting them.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Her speech ended with thunderous applause. But before I could step forward, another man appeared beside her. He handed her a massive bouquet of orchids, the kind I could never afford.

Then, he hugged her. The lilies nearly slipped from my hands.

Angela’s face lit up, but not with the smile she gave me. This was warm and intimate.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The room blurred around me as I followed them through the crowd, staying just far enough behind to avoid being noticed. They stopped near the exit. I heard her voice, clear and sharp:

“Just a little longer, and we won’t have to hide. I’m filing for divorce soon.”

My legs trembled, but I forced myself to step forward. I held out the flowers silently. Angela’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say a word. Without looking back, I turned and walked away.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Angela had become someone I barely recognized. The kind, ambitious woman I once adored had transformed into someone cold and cynical. Her sharp words still echoed in my mind.

“I don’t love you anymore,” she said after that evening.

“You’re nothing more than a babysitter, not a real man.”

The disdain in her eyes cut deeper than I cared to admit. She stood in the middle of the living room, listing her demands as though reading off a shopping list.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll take the house, the car, and all the savings. I’ll leave you with the most precious thing. The kids.”

It wasn’t an act of love. Angela didn’t want them.

The divorce dragged on, a cold and transactional process. There were no heartfelt talks, no apologies. I braced myself for the worst, but in the end, the court sided with me. I was granted custody of the children and ownership of the house.

It felt like a small victory in a losing battle.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But from that moment, everything depended on me. I had to find a job, provide for my kids, and figure out how to rebuild a life that had been shattered.

After years as a stay-at-home dad, the job market felt foreign and intimidating.

***

One morning, as I dropped Kevin off at preschool, I stood by the classroom door, watching him run to his friends. A familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Hi, Andrew.” It was Jennifer.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

She was both one of the single moms in Kevin’s class and a teacher there, someone I’d exchanged polite hellos with but didn’t know well.

“We’re looking for a teaching assistant at the preschool,” she continued. “Maybe it’s exactly what you need right now.”

Her words surprised me. Teaching assistant? I hadn’t considered anything like that.

“Do you think they’d even consider me?” I asked, doubt creeping into my voice.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Of course. You’re already great with the kids. Why not make it official?”

I decided to apply, and within weeks, I started working at the preschool. It wasn’t a permanent job, but it gave me enough income to cover our needs. It also came with free extracurricular activities for the kids and more time to be with them.

***

A few months later, Kevin and Emma were performing in a class play. I stood in the crowd, clapping proudly as my children took their bows.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Then, I spotted Angela in the audience. She never attended preschool events, and her presence sent a wave of unease through me. After the performance, she approached me, her smile too wide to be genuine.

“Let’s talk,” she said sweetly. “I’ve been thinking… maybe we should give our family another chance.”

I froze. Her tone was off and calculated. It didn’t take long to understand why. Her new boyfriend had left her, and her business was struggling. She didn’t want me. She wanted the stability I provided.

“I can’t do this,” I said firmly. “You’re welcome to see the kids, but we’re not a family anymore.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Her expression changed instantly. The sugary facade melted away, replaced by cold anger.

“If you think you can just refuse me, you’re wrong,” she hissed. “I’ll take the kids. You don’t even have a stable job. The court will rule in my favor.”

Her words weren’t about love or parenting. They were about control. Angela didn’t care about the kids. She just wanted to win.

The stakes were higher than ever, and I couldn’t afford to lose.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The weeks that followed were some of the most stressful of my life. Angela’s legal threats hung over me like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over every moment. I couldn’t sleep without her words echoing in my mind.

“I’ll take the kids. The court will side with me.”

It wasn’t just a threat. It was a battle cry, one I couldn’t afford to ignore.

Jennifer quickly became my lifeline. She was always there, whether it was to listen, offer advice, or bring me coffee when I looked ready to collapse.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been the primary caregiver for years,” she said one evening as we sat in my living room, surrounded by stacks of paperwork. “No court would take the kids away from you. We just need to prove it.”

Her words gave me hope, but I knew hope alone wouldn’t win this fight. Together, we worked tirelessly to gather evidence.

We found photos—birthday parties, preschool events, and everyday moments that showed me at the center of my kids’ lives. Jennifer helped collect testimonials from neighbors, teachers, and even the preschool principal, who agreed to write a letter explaining how involved I was in my children’s lives.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The day of the court hearing arrived, Angela was already there, dressed in a sleek designer suit. As the hearing began, Angela’s lawyer argued that her financial stability ensured a better future for the children. But when the judge asked about her role in their lives, she faltered, and her polished facade cracked.

Our evidence spoke louder than her words. The ruling came down in my favor. Full custody was mine, while Angela was granted visitation rights.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Outside, Jennifer was waiting for me. She smiled and hugged me tightly. “I told you we’d figure it out!”

Life didn’t magically return to normal after that. I continued working at the preschool, and with Jennifer’s encouragement, I enrolled in evening courses to become a certified teacher.

As the days turned into weeks, my friendship with Jennifer grew. She became a light in my life, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there was still hope.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

One evening, as we sat in the yard watching kids play, Jennifer turned to me with a smile.

“You know, sometimes life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you need when you least expect it.”

She was right. Angela’s betrayal had broken me, but it also pushed me to discover my strength, my purpose, and something I hadn’t thought I’d find again. Love.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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

I Finally Found Love in My 40s, but My Boyfriend Disappeared When I Needed Him the Most

At 42, Anya finally dares to love again, only to be met with silence from the man who promised to be there. He vanishes without a word when she needs him the most, leaving her questioning if love is worth the risk after all.

I’ve built a life most would call complete. A successful career as an architect, good friends, and a steady rhythm to my days.

Yet, I’d often feel so lonely in my quiet apartment. My friends would tell me it was about time I found a partner, but I’d never agree.

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Anya, when was the last time you went on a date?” my friend Lisa teased one day.

“Oh, I think my soulmate must be my drafting table at this point.” I laughed it off, but deep down, her words struck a nerve.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, seriously. Don’t you miss having someone around?”

I forced a half-smile. “I don’t think it’s in the cards for me. Too much history, too much… complication.”

A woman talking to a friend | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to a friend | Source: Midjourney

I was 25 the last time I was in love.

My high school sweetheart, Stephan, and I had dreams as big as the sky. But life happened. My mom passed away, and grief consumed me.

I still remember Stephan’s last words before he left.

“Anya, I can’t do this anymore,” he’d said in a cold voice. “You’ve changed. You’re just too sad, and I need someone who’s happy. I need someone who’s there for me. Not someone who just spends her entire day crying!”

A young man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A young man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t believe it. Instead of staying with me during the worst time of my life, Stephan chose to walk away.

I didn’t even ask him to stay back. I cried like a baby the night he left me.

However, I soon picked up the broken pieces of my heart and tried to distract my mind by focusing on my work.

As years passed, I told myself I didn’t need a man to be happy. I had a thriving career and became the strong, independent woman I’d dreamed of.

But deep down, I’d feel the ache for something more whenever I’d see couples on the street.

A couple walking on the street | Source: Pexels

A couple walking on the street | Source: Pexels

Lately, though, it wasn’t just the loneliness bothering me. I’d feel worn down and fatigued and would often get headaches and spells of dizziness.

Lisa and some others nudged me to see a doctor, but I brushed it off as stress from work. After all, a few aches were nothing compared to what I’d been through, right?

A few weeks after Lisa’s pep talk, I found myself at a neighborhood charity event. It was one of those pop-up art galleries that featured local artists.

People in an art gallery | Source: Pexels

People in an art gallery | Source: Pexels

I was standing in front of a watercolor painting of a misty mountain when a deep, cheerful voice spoke beside me.

“Not bad, right? Although the brushwork here is, uh, interesting.”

I looked over, meeting the eyes of a man with a mischievous grin and an infectious energy that caught me off guard.

“I’d say unique,” I replied, raising an eyebrow. “I take it you’re an art critic in disguise?”

“History professor, actually,” he laughed. “Liam’s the name. And you?”

A man standing in an art gallery | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in an art gallery | Source: Midjourney

“Anya,” I said, trying not to smile too much. But something about him drew me in. I guess it was his intelligence.

As we talked, his sense of humor and insight made me feel instantly comfortable. I learned he was a history professor, just 35, but surprisingly mature for his age.

Unlike other men I’d known, he didn’t rush to impress or make advances.

He seemed genuinely interested in art, and in me, without any hidden agenda. There was something refreshingly steady about him.

A man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

I told myself he was just a nice guy I’d chat with once and then forget. But that turned out to be wishful thinking.

Over the next few weeks, we kept running into each other at different places. We even started meeting up on purpose.

I found myself looking forward to seeing him in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

One evening at the diner, we were talking over coffee when I asked him about his family.

A woman holding her coffee | Source: Pexels

A woman holding her coffee | Source: Pexels

“They, uh, they’re a bit different,” he told me. “And I don’t see them often.”

He didn’t elaborate, and quickly changed the topic. He rarely mentioned them after that.

It was strange, but I didn’t push. I understood the need to keep some things close to the chest.

Soon, our friendship blossomed into something deeper, something I hadn’t let myself feel in years. Every time I’d catch myself replaying our conversations in my head, I knew it was more than just companionship.

A woman standing in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Liam and I were together now. He was my boyfriend, though saying it out loud still felt surreal.

One afternoon, we met up for lunch at a small diner. In the background, the TV was showing a weather report.

Suddenly, I noticed Liam’s attention snap to the screen as the reporter announced, “Cosolia is expected to have a bout of bad weather. Prepare your umbrellas, folks, because this isolated town is sure to become even more closed off with the upcoming rain…”

Liam’s focus sharpened at the mention of the small town.

A man standing in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, I’d never heard of the place before.

“You know the place?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah, uh, I’ve been there a few times,” he said. “I didn’t know they were going to have rain right now. Anyway, what are we having for lunch?”

He quickly changed the topic, but it didn’t bother me. I thought it was just the historian in him who was fascinated with odd places.

A man looking away while talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man looking away while talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

After a wonderful evening with Liam, I found myself feeling unusually dizzy and faint. This was different. It was worse than the usual fatigue I’d brushed off as work stress.

My head felt heavy, and for a moment, my vision blurred. That was the day I finally decided it was time to see a doctor.

Sitting in the sterile waiting room, I kept telling myself it was nothing serious.

Just stress, just work, I thought. You’re gonna be okay.

But the doctor’s expression told me otherwise.

A doctor studying a report | Source: Pexels

A doctor studying a report | Source: Pexels

He explained that the tests showed I had Multiple Sclerosis. The words didn’t sink in right away.

“It’s probably just stress, right?” I laughed weakly.

The doctor told me to calm down before he explained more.

He said words like “tests,” “rare”, and “serious,” but I have no idea what he told me. I could only feel my heart pound against my chest as I looked at him.

A woman in a doctor's office | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a doctor’s office | Source: Midjourney

At that point, I thought of Liam. He was the one person who’d brought light back into my life. Maybe he’d know what to say to make this all feel less terrifying.

As I left the doctor’s office, I felt tears stream down my cheeks. I quickly sat inside my car and typed out a message to Liam.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

Liam, I need to tell you something. I was at the doctor’s today… they diagnosed me with Multiple Sclerosis. I’m so scared. I don’t even know where to start dealing with this. I thought I’d be okay, but I’m not. I could really use your support right now, babe. Please meet me.

I hit send, praying he’d respond quickly.

Hours passed, though, and my phone stayed silent. By the time night turned to dawn, I was nearly sick with worry.

Maybe he doesn’t want to deal with this, I thought.

A worried woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

Day one turned into day two, then day three, and still, there was no word.

He’s gone silent. Maybe he’s busy, but it’s been days. What if… what if he doesn’t want to deal with this? The thought hit me again, hard. I was alone again.

Memories of Stephan flooded back and his cold words echoed in my mind. “You’re just too sad, and I need someone who’s happy.”

Was I about to lose Liam the same way?

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

Desperation took over, and I combed through his social media, looking for any sign of life. I called him repeatedly, but it went to voicemail. I even went to his apartment, but his neighbor told me he’d left suddenly.

“Why would he just leave without a word? Did my illness scare him that much?” I whispered to myself.

The pain of abandonment was too familiar. I was convinced Liam had chosen to walk away, just when I needed him the most.

On the fourth day, just as I was starting to accept that Liam had disappeared, my phone finally rang. His name lit up the screen.

A woman looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney

“Anya, I’m so sorry. I had to leave in such a rush,” he started, his voice sounding strained and exhausted. “My grandmother… she lives in Cosolia. She got really sick, and I just—”

Cosolia. That small town on the weather report, the one that had captured his attention at the diner. It all clicked, but the anger I’d felt these past days pushed through.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Do you have any idea what that did to me, Liam?” I interrupted. “You just vanished. I thought… I thought you were gone. Like everyone else.”

There was a pause, and his voice softened when he spoke again.

“I know, Anya. And I hate that I put you through that. I wanted to reach out, but everything went wrong. The storm knocked out all the power, the roads flooded… I couldn’t get to you.” His words poured out in a rush. “I couldn’t even find a working phone. The whole area was cut off.”

A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

Was he telling the truth? I wondered, feeling a flicker of doubt. Why hadn’t he ever mentioned this grandmother before? Or even that she lived in Cosolia? And what about all those times I’d asked about his family… why had he dodged my questions? Was he hiding more? My mind raced with questions, one after another. Should I trust him?

“Anya? Are you there?” His voice broke into my thoughts, pulling me back.

I took a breath. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your family, Liam? Every time I asked, you brushed it off.”

A woman talking to her boyfriend on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her boyfriend on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Because…” he sighed. “I was ashamed. My family doesn’t have much. They live in a small town, and I thought you’d see me differently if you knew. My life’s messy, Anya. I didn’t want you to see that part of me.”

I stayed quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. The sincerity in his words felt real.

“Liam,” I said softly, “I’m not the kind of person who judges someone for where they come from or how much they have. I care about you for who you are.”

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you, Anya,” he said before taking a deep breath. “That… means everything to me. I’ll be back by tomorrow. And I’ll be here for you, for whatever you need.”

When Liam returned the next day, he came straight to my place. We sat on the couch and talked about everything. About my diagnosis, his family, and our fears.

And for the first time, I let down my walls completely.

“I don’t want to be a burden, Liam,” I said quietly, tears brimming. “You didn’t sign up for this…”

He took my hand and looked straight into my eyes.

A man holding his girlfriend's hands | Source: Pexels

A man holding his girlfriend’s hands | Source: Pexels

“Anya, life isn’t about ‘signing up’ for things. It throws us surprises. Good and bad. And I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed my hand gently. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll be here with you, for as long as you need me.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked at him.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through this, Liam,” I managed to say between sobs. “I…”

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. It was exactly the kind of hug I needed at that moment.

A man hugging his girlfriend | Source: Pexels

A man hugging his girlfriend | Source: Pexels

A few days later, Liam drove me to my next doctor’s appointment. He opened the door for me and held my hand as we entered the office.

For the first time in years, I had someone standing by my side during one of the lowest points of my life. Someone who wouldn’t leave if I cried too much. Someone who was ready to accept both the good and the messy sides of me.

I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like Liam. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.

A man smiling at his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling at his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Inheriting her beloved grandmother’s house, Claire pours her heart into its renovation for her mom. But the unexpected return of her estranged sister, Emma, after fourteen years, with a demand for a share of the inheritance, throws Claire’s plans into turmoil. What will she do now?

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.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*