Husband receives photo from his wife, then immediately wants a divorce
A picture is worth more than a thousand words. Photos are an important part of our lives. Holiday memories, how cute your pet is, the beauty of your partner: it can all be captured in a photo. Still, sometimes it’s better not to Iook too much into the details, because who knows, you might come across something that you previously overlooked.
Something that has enormous consequences…John Baker also experienced this: he saw something in a photo of his wife that made him want to divorce her immediately. It’s difficult to see, but when you take a close look, you’ll be abIe to see it. Why she sent the photo to him and what has he seen? You will hear about it below. Have you noticed it in the photo above? If not, read on quickly.
John and Chloe
John and Baker Chloe had been married for five years and lived in San Francisco. The American couple had a special reIationship. John traveled the world for work and was sometimes away from home for weeks, while Chloe spent her time volunteering at various charities in the city. Because Chloe was home alone so often, she was in charge of the household. When John was home for a week, he had to obey his wife’s house rules. This had caused tensions at first, but eventually John had resigned himself to it. He had long been happy to have such a beautiful wife to come home to.
John Baker
The husband, John, had a good job as a sales representative for a technology company. This company had customers and partners all over the world, so John was often away from home for work for weeks. He always flew first class and slept in the most beautiful hoteI rooms. His life consisted of luxury. Still, John loved being home with the love of his life, Chloe.
When John was on a business trip, the couple often spoke on the phone. Chloe had said early in their relationship that she didn’t like video calling, so the couple didn’t see each other for weeks. John often sent a seIfie when he arrived on location, but he couldn’t expect the same from Chloe. He was used to this. John wanted to see his wife more often. Be careful what you wish for…
Chloe Baker
Chloe was a stunning, popular woman with a huge circle of acquaintances. Because of her large network, she was a welcome guest at fundraisers and other events. Because John had such a good job, Chloe didn’t have to work herself. She spent her time supporting charities. Thus she filled her days with something that was good for the world. In addition, Chloe also took good care of herself.
She loved going out, good food and shopping, which she preferred to do with friends. Chloe was known as a very sociable person and liked to strike up a conversation with everyone. Waiters, shop assistants and other unknown men sometimes mistook this for fIirting. Chloe’s single friends were very happy about this because Chloe always referred these men to them. That used to be different…
Playmate
In the past, Chloe had earned her money as a model. She had even made it to Playboy as a playmate. During this time, Chloe had been single and thoroughly enjoyed all the male attention that this job entailed. Chloe had met her future husband John while working. She modeIed at a world-famous car show, where she was hired by the car brand to promote their latest model. Thousands of men were walking, but her eye fell on John as soon as he entered the room. It was love at first sight for her. For John it was different…
At the car show
That day, John was looking for a new car with his then-girlfriend, Heather. The couple had driven the same sedan for years, but now that John had started earning more money, there was room to purchase a new car. The day had turned out completely differently than the couple had expected. The car show was very busy. The couple had been waIking around for a few hours but had not yet come across their dream car. John had just been promoted at work and was very happy.
He’d just gone to the bathroom and was walking back to Heather when he saw something that seemed to freeze the world around him. Heather turned out not to be who he thought she was…
The other man
Right in front of him, a strange man in a suit approached Heather and kissed her. Heather was clearly shocked, but she seemed to know the man. A heated argument erupted as Heather struggled to keep whispering. John approached the two. Heather was shocked when John confronted them about the situation. The other man seemed just as surprised and outraged as John. “Who the hell are you?” he asked John. “I can ask the same of you!” John responded. Heather couId have sunk through the ground. Everything became clear quickly…
Cheated
It turned out Heather had been in a relationship with the man she met at this fair for a year. The other man hadn’t known about John any more than he had about the man: they had both been fooled. Neither of the men knew that their girlfriend was in a relationship with someone else. This was quite a downer for John. He had a bright future ahead of him and was deepIy in love with Heather. The unknown man stomped out of the room and John never saw him again. John angrily demanded that Heather leave. She did this, leaving John alone in the room.
The meeting
John had sat down in a chair with his head between his hands. Chloe had watched the whole scenario from a distance and decided to walk over to him. “That looked intense,” she said. “Is everything alright?”. John tried to brush off the unknown woman with a few reassuring words. This did not go well for him, because he burst into tears. ChIoe got John a drink and the two started talking. After a few hours of talking about Heather, John’s new job, and today’s bizarre event, the show had come to an end without them realizing it. Chloe was worried about John. John promised to call her that evening to confirm he had arrived home safely.
The phone conversation
Once home, John decided to dial Chloe’s number. Before he knew it, another 3 hours had flown by. This time they had talked about Chloe’s career, her dreams, aspirations, and her wishes. John found that he could talk to her very well, but in his head, there was only room for Heather. Heather came to collect her things the next day. John had less trouble with it than he had expected. He was especially looking forward to calling Chloe again. He did this right after she left the house. Again the hours flew by: the two couldn’t stop talking.
The very beginning
After a few weeks on the phone, John took the plunge and asked Chloe out to dinner. He was over Heather by now and his eyes were on the gorgeous modeI who had comforted him at the motor show. She said yes. He took her to one of the most luxurious restaurants in town, where they talked and laughed until the late hours over an expensive bottle of wine. Afterwards, they took a taxi to John’s apartment, where they continued their evening. One date became two, two became more. Chloe, unlike John’s ex, seemed trustworthy.
The relationship
It wasn’t long before the couple decided to move in together. They had been together for a year now and the future smiled upon them. It was a rare occurrence for them to sleep in their own house at this point, so a logical next step was to officially move in together. There was just something that gnawed at John.
Something wasn’t quite right for him. Living together was quite a big thing for him, because it had ended in such a bad way last time. He wanted to make sure this didn’t happen again. That’s why there was one condition he wanted to pIace on Chloe. The condition really scared her…
The condition
One evening, after they went to the movies together, John decided to make his condition known to Chloe. He only hoped she would take it the right way, because he didn’t mean any wrong with it. He certainly trusted her, but something wasn’t quite right for him. It would be very good for his peace of mind if she accepted his condition. “I want to ask you something”, John began. “I would like to make a request, before we choose to Iive together”. Chloe had no idea what John would ask her, but she was willing to do anything to make him happy. She was looking forward to moving in with her love.
Grumpy Loner Finds a Teen Trying to Jack His Car and It Ends Up Changing Both Their Lives — Story of the Day
All old Harold cared about in his remaining years were his car and his privacy, but both now seemed at risk after new Asian neighbors moved in. One night, he caught a teenage boy trying to open his car, and from that moment, his solitary life changed forever.
Harold sat on his creaky porch, the paint peeling from the wooden railing, his scowl as deep as the furrows in his weathered face.
The late afternoon sun glared down, reflecting off the hood of his 1970 Plymouth Barracuda, making its cherry-red paint glow like embers.
The car had been his pride and joy for decades, a tangible reminder of his younger, more vibrant days.
But today, Harold wasn’t basking in nostalgia. His gaze was fixed on the commotion across the street.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His new neighbors—a bustling Asian family—were unloading boxes from a moving truck.
Kids dashed around the driveway, shrieking and laughing, while a dog yapped incessantly.
A grandmother in a wide-brimmed hat waved instructions in a language Harold didn’t understand.
“Can’t they do anything quietly?” Harold muttered, his words a growl as he took a bitter sip of his lukewarm coffee.
Needing an escape, Harold pushed himself up from the chair, wincing as his stiff knees protested.
He shuffled toward his garage, muttering under his breath about the state of the world. Starting the Barracuda, he reversed it onto the driveway with a low, throaty rumble.
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He knew the engine’s growl was loud enough to turn heads, and that’s exactly what he wanted.
As he began unwinding the hose to wash his car, a voice called out, breaking his solitude.
“Wow! Is that a ‘70 Barracuda?”
Harold turned, startled to see a skinny teenage boy standing near the curb.
The boy’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and his face was lit with the kind of awe Harold hadn’t seen in years.
“Yeah, it is,” Harold said curtly, already regretting engaging.
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“Does it have the 440 engine? A Six Pack?” the boy asked, stepping closer, his excitement bubbling over. “How’d you keep it in such good shape? I mean, it’s pristine!”
Harold grunted, turning his attention back to the car.
“It’s just maintenance,” he said flatly, hoping the boy would take the hint and leave.
But the boy, introducing himself as Ben, didn’t. He kept firing questions, his enthusiasm unrelenting.
He asked about the car’s history, its restoration, and its performance. Harold’s responses grew shorter, his patience wearing thinner with each passing second.
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“Kid, don’t you have something better to do?” Harold snapped, narrowing his eyes at the boy.
Ben hesitated, his smile fading slightly.
“I just really love classic cars,” he said softly. “My dad used to—”
“Enough!” Harold barked, turning to face him fully. “Go home and leave me alone!”
Ben’s shoulders slumped, and he muttered, “Sorry, sir,” before shuffling away.
Harold shook his head and turned back to his car, scrubbing harder than necessary.
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But as much as he tried, he couldn’t quite shake the image of the boy’s hopeful face. It lingered like a faint echo, reminding him of something he couldn’t quite name.
Harold was jolted awake by the unmistakable sound of clanging metal. It wasn’t subtle—it was the kind of noise that didn’t belong in the stillness of the night.
His eyes snapped open, and for a moment, he lay there, listening.
Then, with a groan, he reached for the baseball bat leaning against his nightstand.
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His heart pounded as he slipped on his slippers and shuffled toward the garage, the cold night air prickling his skin.
He paused at the garage door, holding his breath as he heard muffled voices and the distinct rustling of tools. Gritting his teeth, Harold flipped on the light.
“Hey! Get outta here!” he roared, his voice slicing through the chaos.
Three teenage boys froze like deer caught in headlights.
One was hunched over the steering wheel of his prized Barracuda, while another rifled through his neatly organized tools.
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The third stood near the hood, his face partially obscured by the shadow of his hoodie.
The two boys closest to the car bolted without a word, vanishing into the darkness. Harold barely noticed.
His eyes locked onto the third boy, who had slipped on an oil patch and fallen hard onto the concrete floor.
“Not so fast,” Harold growled, marching over and grabbing the boy’s arm. He hauled him to his feet, and the boy’s hood fell back, revealing a familiar face.
“Ben?” Harold’s voice was incredulous and angry all at once.
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“Please, sir,” Ben stammered, his face pale and his hands shaking. “I didn’t mean to—I was—”
“Save it,” Harold snapped, his grip firm. “You’re coming with me.”
Still clutching Ben’s arm, Harold marched him across the street and banged loudly on the door of the boy’s house.
After a moment, the door creaked open, and Ben’s parents appeared, their faces groggy and confused.
“They don’t speak much English,” Ben mumbled, his eyes glued to the floor.
“Then you’re going to tell them exactly what you did,” Harold said, his voice cold and commanding.
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Ben hesitated, then began translating, his voice trembling as he explained what had happened.
His parents’ faces fell, their expressions a mix of shame and dismay.
Bowing repeatedly, they murmured apologetic phrases in their native language, their gestures sincere.
Harold let go of Ben, pointing a finger at the boy. “Next time, I won’t hesitate to call the cops. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Ben murmured, his head bowed low.
Harold turned and stomped back to his house, his adrenaline slowly fading. He collapsed into his armchair, staring at the car keys he had left on the table.
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The image of Ben’s pale, terrified face lingered in his mind, unsettling him. Somehow, his anger didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have.
The next morning, Harold was startled from his coffee by the sound of clinking metal on his porch.
Grumbling, he got up and opened the door to a surprising sight: Ben’s grandmother and mother, both balancing trays of steaming food, carefully arranging them on the steps.
“What’s all this?” Harold asked, his tone sharp.
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“Listen, I don’t need—what’s all this for?”
The women looked up at him nervously, bowing their heads slightly. Their smiles were polite but hesitant, and they didn’t say a word.
Harold waved his hands awkwardly, trying to shoo them away.
“It’s fine. You don’t need to do this,” he sputtered.
They continued their work undeterred, gesturing to the trays with small, encouraging nods. Harold sighed, stepping aside and muttering under his breath, “No one listens anymore.”
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As they finished and disappeared back across the street, Ben appeared, shuffling up to the porch with his head low.
His face was flushed, and he avoided Harold’s gaze. Suddenly, he knelt down, bowing deeply.
“I’m sorry for what I did,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
Harold crossed his arms, his scowl deepening, but his voice lacked its usual edge. “Kid, get up. You don’t have to do this.”
Ben didn’t move. “Please,” he insisted. “Let me fix this.”
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Harold sighed heavily. “Fine. Wash the car. And don’t scratch it.”
As Harold returned inside, he eyed the trays of food warily before sitting down to pick at the unfamiliar dishes.
Through the window, he watched Ben working diligently on the Barracuda, the boy’s careful movements a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before.
After some time, Harold stepped back outside. “You did a decent job,” he admitted gruffly. “For a guy who tried to get into it last night.”
“Thanks,” Ben replied, drying his hands on a rag. He hesitated before speaking again.
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“The truth is… those guys made me do it. They said I’d be a coward if I didn’t help. They knew I know a lot about cars.”
Harold frowned. “Why didn’t you tell your parents that?”
Ben shrugged, looking down.
“It’s hard enough being new here. If I snitched, people would make fun of my sister. She’s finally starting to fit in.”
Harold studied him, his face softening.
“You’re a good kid, Ben. You just have bad taste in friends.”
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Ben nodded, finishing the job. As Harold watched him clean up, he surprised himself by saying, “Come on in. Let’s eat before all this food gets cold.”
Ben’s eyes widened slightly, but he smiled. “Thanks, sir.”
Harold waved him inside, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
That evening, he sat in his recliner, a cup of tea cooling on the side table. The soft hum of crickets filled the air, but a commotion outside drew his attention.
He leaned toward the window, pulling the curtain aside, and his sharp eyes spotted Ben down the street.
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The boy was backed against a fence by the same two teens who had fled Harold’s garage that night.
Harold squinted, his knuckles tightening on the curtain. The taller of the two boys jabbed a finger at Ben, his voice carrying through the quiet.
“We’re not taking the fall for this! You better fix it.”
Ben’s shoulders slumped as he hesitated, then reluctantly handed over a set of keys. He pointed toward Harold’s garage, his expression filled with shame.
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The two teens grinned, their laughter cutting through the stillness as they swaggered toward the garage.
Harold’s lips pressed into a thin line as he grabbed his jacket and headed outside.
Staying hidden in the shadows, he waited until the boys disappeared inside his garage.
Then, with a deliberate stride, he approached the building, flanked by a police officer he’d called earlier.
“Evening, boys,” Harold said coolly, flipping on the garage lights.
The two teens froze, their grins vanishing as the officer stepped forward. “Hands where I can see them,” the officer commanded.
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The boys stammered, their bravado crumbling as they were cuffed and led toward the patrol car.
Ben stood nearby, watching the scene with a conflicted expression. Harold approached him, his voice steady but firm.
“You did the right thing, kid,” he said. “Criminals need to learn their lessons early. Better they fix their lives now than ruin them later.”
Ben nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. “I wasn’t sure if…” He trailed off, searching Harold’s face.
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Harold patted Ben’s shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I could use someone like you to help me with the car. You interested?”
Ben’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head,” Harold said with a smirk.
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“And maybe, if you prove yourself, this car could be yours one day.”
Ben’s grin spread wide, and for the first time in years, Harold felt a flicker of pride he thought he’d never feel again.
Together, they walked back to the house, the night quieter than it had been in years.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: “Perfect neighbor”—that was Julia’s dream title. She wanted to be a role model for other women in the community. Imagine her face when she saw her mother ride a Harley-Davidson into the driveway. Pure embarrassment nearly drove Julia to the point of kicking her mother out, but the truth stopped her.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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