When I got sick, I finally saw a side to my husband that I didn’t like. He abandoned me and our newborn baby because he didn’t want to step up and be a good father and husband, so I played along. But I came out on top!
I’m 30, married to a man named Drew who’s 33, and we have a six-month-old baby girl named Sadie. She’s the light of my life—a smile like sunshine, chubby cheeks, and the sweetest little giggle. But apparently, all of that was just a minor inconvenience to my husband when I got sick.
A sickly woman | Source: Midjourney
Let me tell you what happened. Strap in, because it still feels like a fever dream, and not just because I had a fever when it all started. This all occurred about a month ago. I’d caught some brutal virus. Not COVID-19, not RSV, but something gnarly.
I mean, this thing came with body aches, chills, and a cough that made my ribs feel like they were being punched from the inside! The worst part? Sadie had just gotten over a cold herself, so I was already drained.
A cute baby | Source: Midjourney
At this point, I was sleep-deprived, sick, and trying to take care of a baby who was still clingy from her own recovery. Strangely, Drew had been acting weird for weeks, even before I got sick. He was distant.
Always on his phone, chuckling at things he wouldn’t share. When I’d ask what was so funny, he’d just shrug and say, “It’s work stuff.” His fuse was short, too. He snapped over stupid things—the dishes in the sink and my forgetting to defrost the chicken.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
My husband also kept commenting on how tired I looked. “You always seem exhausted,” he said one night while I rocked Sadie in my arms and tried to suppress a cough.
“Well, yeah, duh. I’m raising a human,” I replied with a tinge of annoyance.
I thought maybe, just maybe, this illness would snap him out of it. I hoped he’d see me struggling and finally step up. Pick up the slack. Be the man I married.
Boy, was I wrong!
A sickly woman struggling with a baby | Source: Midjourney
The night my fever hit 102.4, I could barely sit up! My hair was stuck to my forehead, my skin burned, and my whole body ached like I’d been hit by a truck! I looked at him and, with all the strength I could muster, I whispered, “Can you please take Sadie? I just need to lie down for 20 minutes.”
He didn’t even blink. “I can’t. Your cough is keeping me up. I NEED SLEEP. I think I’m gonna stay at my mom’s for a few nights.”
I actually laughed—not because it was funny, but because it was so absurd I thought he had to be joking!
He wasn’t.
A sickly woman laughing while holding her baby | Source: Midjourney
He actually got up, packed a duffel bag, kissed Sadie on the head—not me—and walked out. All the while, I kept asking him, “Are you serious right now? You’re really leaving?” And he just nodded his head and said nothing.
He didn’t even bother asking how Sadie would be taken care of while I could barely stand! After he left, I sat on the couch holding her while she cried from being overtired and hungry. I stared at the door. My phone buzzed a few minutes later after I texted him.
A woman holding a baby and texting | Source: Midjourney
“You’re seriously leaving me here sick and alone with the baby?” I had texted, still in disbelief.
“You’re the mom. You know how to handle this stuff better than me. I’d just get in the way. Plus, I’m exhausted and your cough is unbearable.”
I read that text five times and stared at it in shock! My hands were shaking, whether from the fever or the rage, I’ll never know! I couldn’t believe that this man, who was supposed to be my life partner, thought my cough was too much of a hindrance than staying and helping with OUR child while I was clearly sick!?
FINE!
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I somehow made it through the weekend. I barely ate. I cried in the shower when Sadie finally napped. I kept her alive on nothing but Tylenol, willpower, and instinct. And during that time, Drew didn’t check in, not once!
I couldn’t rely on family because they were hours away, and although my friends popped in and called now and then, they were too busy, out of town, or had some other reason. The whole time I was burning up in bed, one idea kept playing in my mind: I need to show this man what it feels like to be completely abandoned.
So I did.
A serious and determined woman | Source: Midjourney
I started devising my plan. I figured if he thought being sick and then abandoned wasn’t a big deal, I was going to give him an idea of what it felt like. By the time I felt somewhat human again, with no fever, still coughing but functional, I knew exactly what I was going to do.
So a week later, I texted him.
“Hey babe. I’m feeling much better now. You can come home.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Thank God! I’ve barely slept here. Mom’s dog snores and she keeps asking me to help with yard work.”
Yard work. Poor baby. Imagine that.
A happy man texting | Source: Midjourney
Ahead of his return, I cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom, prepped Sadie’s bottles and food, and even made Drew’s favorite dinner, spaghetti carbonara with garlic bread from scratch. I showered, put on makeup for the first time in two weeks, and wore jeans that didn’t scream “I’ve been up every two hours with a baby.”
When he walked in, he looked around like everything was back to normal. He was smiling, looking relaxed, ate like a king, burped, and then collapsed onto the couch with his phone! He barely said a word to me about the week I had endured!
A happy man using his phone | Source: Midjourney
A few minutes into his relaxation time, I finally struck!
“Hey,” I said sweetly, “Can you hold Sadie for a sec? I need to grab something upstairs.”
“Sure,” he muttered after sighing and rolling his eyes. He kept scrolling TikTok with one hand and held her with the other.
I came down five minutes later with my small suitcase and my car keys. Sadie was smiling and babbling in his lap.
Noticing the movement, he blinked. “What’s that?”
“I booked a weekend spa retreat,” I said, calm as can be. “Massage, facial, room service. I just need some rest.”
He sat up, confused. “Wait, you’re going now?!”
A shocked man holding a baby | Source: Midjourney
“Yep. Just two nights. I left instructions. Bottles are labeled and her toys are there. Diapers and wipes are stocked. Emergency numbers are on the fridge. I got lots of groceries. Everything’s good. Unlike you, I actually planned ahead for you. Besides, you’re the dad. You know how to handle this stuff.”
“Claire, I don’t know what to—” he started.
I raised a hand. “No, no. Your words last week, remember? ‘You’re the mom. You know how to handle this stuff better than me.’ Now it’s your turn.”
A woman leaving with luggage | Source: Midjourney
He seemed gobsmacked for a few seconds before he said, “Wait—Claire, c’mon. You can’t just—”
“I can. I am. You abandoned me when I needed you most. So now you’ll see what it’s like to carry everything alone. Don’t call unless it’s a real emergency. And no pawning her off on your mom. You’re the dad. Figure it out.”
He just stared at me with his eyes wide. I don’t think he was processing what was happening.
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“You wanted sleep? Good luck getting any. Bye-bye, dear. I’ll be back Sunday night!”
And then I walked out. I didn’t slam the door. I didn’t cry in the car. I drove 45 minutes to a beautiful, tranquil, and quiet little inn with a spa and free chocolate chip cookies in the lobby.
That day, I vowed not to answer any calls or texts. I figured if there was a real issue, Drew could get in touch with his mother or take Sadie to the hospital. I even ignored the first wave of panicked voicemails and FaceTime attempts.
A woman relaxing at a spa | Source: Midjourney
Instead, I had a 90-minute massage, took naps, read by the fireplace, got a pedicure, and watched trashy reality shows in a fluffy robe. Bliss!
Saturday? Slept in until 9 a.m., got a facial, and ate a warm croissant while reading a book by the fire.
He did call twice. Left two voicemails. One was mild panic. The other was an attempt to guilt-trip me.
“Claire, Sadie won’t nap. I don’t know how you do this. She spit up on me twice. Please call back.”
I didn’t.
A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
But I did FaceTime that evening because, despite everything, I missed my daughter, and unlike him, I still really loved him.
When the screen lit up, Drew looked like he’d aged 10 years. Sadie was in his arms, hair a mess, chewing on his hoodie string. Her diaper looked… full.
“Hey, Sadie-bug,” I said, my voice softening. “Mommy misses you.”
She smiled. Reached for the screen. Drew looked like he wanted to melt.
“Claire,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t realize how hard this is!”
No kidding!
I nodded. “I know.”
A woman on her phone | Source: Midjourney
Sunday evening, I came home to a war zone! Toys everywhere. Dirty bottles in the sink. Drew was still in the same shirt from the day before, his eyes sunken, hair sticking up like a cartoon scientist!
Sadie squealed and giggled when she saw me! I scooped her up and kissed her all over! She smelled like baby wipes and panic, but was fine, maybe a little clingy.
A happy woman carrying her child | Source: Midjourney
Drew just looked at me like he was seeing a goddess with infinite powers—exhausted and ashamed.
“I get it now,” he whispered. “I really do.”
“Do you?” I asked.
He nodded. “I messed up.”
I pulled out a folded paper from my purse and placed it on the table. Don’t get excited, it wasn’t divorce papers, at least, not yet. He looked down like a deer caught in headlights, probably thinking the papers were the end of our marriage.
A shocked man looking at a list | Source: Midjourney
But it was a list. A schedule. Morning duties, nighttime feedings, grocery runs, laundry, baths. His name was next to half of them.
“You don’t get to tap out anymore,” I told him. “I need a partner. Not a third child.”
He nodded, slowly. “Okay. I’m in.”
To his credit, he has been trying. He wakes up when Sadie cries at night. He makes her bottles and finally managed to change her diaper without gagging! He even learned to swaddle her without watching a tutorial!
A happy man holding his swaddled child | Source: Midjourney
But I’m not stupid. I’m not rushing to forgive him. I’m still watching. Still deciding.
But at least now, he knows: love doesn’t mean allowing someone to walk all over you, and I’m not the type of woman you leave behind when things get tough.
I’m the woman who makes sure you never, ever forget it.
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
In the following story, a woman was thrilled when her boyfriend proposed but, his mother quickly shut down any idea of them actually getting married. To cut a long story short, the jilted woman didn’t take the slight lying down and got revenge in the best way possible!
I Was Upset That My Grandfather Only Left Me an Old Apiary until I Looked into the Beehives — Story of the Day
My Grandpa, the man who spun tales of buried treasure and promised me the millions. But when his time came, lawyer called me.
“Your grandfather wanted to divide evenly his money between your siblings. But he wanted you to know – he loved you the most, Robyn. That’s why you’ll get his apiary”. – he said.
That was the biggest letdown: a dusty, old apiary. Who leaves their grandchild an insect-infested shack? This cruel joke of an inheritance was a slap in the face until the day I peered into the beehives.
It all started with a regular morning. Aunt Daphne peered over her glasses at the mess on my bed. “Robyn, have you packed your bag yet?”
“I’m texting Chloe,” I groaned, hiding my phone.
“It’s almost bus time! Get ready!” Aunt Daphne said, stuffing books into my bag.
I saw the time. 7:58 A.M. “Ugh, fine,” I sighed, getting up from the bed.
She held out a shirt for me, ironed and ready. “This isn’t what your Grandpa hoped for you, you know. He believed you’d be strong, independent. And those beehives he left? They’re not going to tend to themselves.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
I recalled the times with Grandpa, the honey, the bees. But now, my mind was on the upcoming school dance and my crush, Scott.
“I’ll check them, maybe tomorrow,” I said, fixing my hair.
“Tomorrow never comes for you. Grandpa believed in you, Robyn. He wanted you to take care of the apiary,” she insisted.
“Look, Aunt Daphne,” I said sharply. “I’ve got better things to do than take care of Grandpa’s bees!”
I saw Aunt Daphne’s face fall and tears spring in her eyes. But the school bus honked right then, and I rushed out, ignoring her sad expression.
On the bus, my thoughts were focused on Scott, not the apiary I inherited from Grandpa Archie. “Who wants an apiary?” I thought, annoyed at the responsibility.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But the next day, Aunt Daphne brought it up again. She scolded me for neglecting chores and spending too much time on my phone.
“You’re grounded, young lady!” she declared suddenly, and it was then I finally looked up from my phone.
“Grounded? For what?” I protested.
“For shirking responsibility,” she replied, mentioning the neglected apiary.
“The apiary? That useless bee farm?” I scoffed.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“It’s about responsibility, Robyn. It’s what Grandpa wanted for you,” Aunt Daphne said, her voice strained with emotion.
“Look, Aunt Daphne,” I protested, “I’m scared of getting stung!”
“You’ll be wearing protective gear,” she countered. “A little fear is normal, but you can’t let it stop you.”
Reluctantly, I headed to the apiary. As I approached the hive, I was both scared and curious. Donning heavy gloves, I opened the hive and began harvesting honey, my heart pounding.
Suddenly, a bee stung my glove. I nearly gave up, but a surge of determination hit me. I had to finish this. I had to prove to Aunt Daphne that I wasn’t the reckless, irresponsible 14-year-old she thought I was.
While harvesting honey, I discovered a weather-beaten plastic bag inside the hive containing a faded map with strange markings. It seemed like a treasure map left by Grandpa Archie.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Excited, I tucked the map into my pocket and pedaled home. Leaving the half-filled jar of honey on the kitchen counter, I sneaked out and followed the map into the woods.
Navigating the familiar woods, I remembered Grandpa’s stories and laughed about his encounters.
As I stepped into a clearing that seemed to leap straight out of Grandpa’s stories, I couldn’t help but shiver. This was the exact place he’d talk about the legendary White Walker of the forest, making my imagination run wild as a kid.
And there it was, just like in his tales – the old gamekeeper’s house, looking forgotten by time with its chipped paint and sagging porch. “Grandpa used to sit us down here, munching on sandwiches and pie after collecting honey, and weave his incredible stories,” I thought, a bittersweet nostalgia washing over me.
Touching the ancient dwarf tree near the porch, I could almost hear Grandpa’s playful warning, “Watch out, kiddo. Let’s not disturb the grouchy little gnomes,” as if we were back in those carefree afternoons.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
I found the hidden old key and unlocked the cabin, stepping into a world that time had forgotten. The air was heavy with a musty smell, and specks of dust glimmered in the stray beams of sunlight.
There, catching my eye, was a beautifully carved metal box on a dusty table. Inside was a note from Grandpa, just for me:
“To my dear Robyn, inside this box is a special treasure for you, but it’s not to be opened until your journey’s true end. You’ll know when the time is right. All my love, Grandpa.”
I was dying to see what was inside, but Grandpa’s last instruction echoed in my head, “Only at the end of your journey.”
I couldn’t just ignore his last wish.
I continued my journey through the forest, but after a while, I felt like I was lost.
“This map is no good,” I realized, not being able to spot a way out of the woods. I didn’t know when I started crying.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But then, I remembered something important. “Grandpa always said to stay calm,” I told myself. “I can’t give up.”
Then, I heard a sound like a small branch breaking far off, and it made me think of scary stories from when I was little. “Maybe Aunt Daphne was right to warn me,” I thought, looking around at the huge forest. But thinking of Grandpa’s advice made me brave enough to keep going, guiding me through the enveloping wilderness.
I took a big, nervous breath and tried to think clearly. Going back seemed like a good idea, but it would be hard to see clearly in the forest when it got dark. There was a bridge, the one Grandpa always talked about… that might help, I thought.
Wiping away a tear, I straightened my backpack. “Okay, Robyn,” I whispered to myself. “Let’s find that bridge.”
But that confidence didn’t last long. The sun was setting, making the woods menacing. Exhausted, I slumped under a tree, longing for Aunt Daphne’s cozy kitchen.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
My backpack offered no comfort, just reminders of my unpreparedness. Desperately searching for food, I found nothing but stale cracker crumbs. “Focus, Robyn. Find the bridge. Find water,” I urged myself, ignoring the hunger.
Then, remembering Grandpa’s advice again, I used heal-all leaves for my wounds and pushed on, driven by the sound of rushing water. But the river wasn’t the gentle stream I remembered; it was a dangerous, fast-moving torrent.
Ignoring the treacherous path, I scrambled down the rocky bank, driven by a desperate thirst. Reaching the water’s edge, I knelt, cupping my hands to scoop up the cool liquid. It tasted faintly metallic, but it was life-giving nectar at that moment.
As I rose, the precarious footing betrayed me. Slipping, I tumbled into the icy current, screaming for help. My backpack dragged me down. “Grandpa,” I whispered helplessly. Thinking of him, a sliver of clarity cut through the panic. He wouldn’t have wanted me to give up. He’d taught me to fight, to be brave.
I decided to ditch the backpack but kept Grandpa’s metal box. Fighting the current, I struggled towards the shore, refusing to give up.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
My fingers brushed a solid log, a lifeline in the churning chaos. I clung to it with every ounce of strength, the current tossing me like a ragdoll. Then, with a final shove, it deposited me, sputtering and bruised, onto the muddy bank.
I peeled off my soaking clothes and hung them up on a tree to dry. My eyes then fell on a metal box that might help me find my way back.
Grandpa had told me to wait until the end of my journey to open it, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. Inside, I found no treasure, just a jar of honey and a photo of us together. It hit me then—this journey and the real treasure was about the value of hard work, just like Grandpa always said.
Tears welled up as I thought about how I’d ignored all the wisdom Grandpa had shared with me. I’d been chasing adventures, forgetting the important things he’d tried to teach me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Wiping my snotty nose, I told myself it was time to get moving, to make Grandpa proud. I started building a shelter from branches and leaves under a big oak tree. It was rough, but it was enough for the night.
The next morning, the bright sun woke me up. I pushed through the woods, holding onto that metal box like a lifeline, thinking about Grandpa.
Remembering the times we went fishing together warmed me up a bit. “Slow and steady,” I could almost hear him say. I even started humming one of his favorite tunes, feeling like he was right there with me.
When I saw a bridge in the distance, hope bubbled up inside me. With Grandpa’s lessons in my heart, I wasn’t alone. But then, the forest turned into a confusing maze, and I started to panic. Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, I stumbled into a clearing and collapsed, totally exhausted.
That’s when a dog found me, and I heard a chorus of muffled voices: “There she is!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Waking up in a hospital bed, I saw Aunt Daphne by my side. “I’m sorry,” I managed, overwhelmed by regret. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Daphne.”
“Hush, dear. You’re safe now,” she said softly.
“I messed up,” I cried out. “Grandpa was right about everything!”
Aunt Daphne held my hand and smiled. “He always loved you, sweetie. Even when you were mad at him, even when you didn’t get why. Remember how upset you were about not getting that smartwatch just weeks before he passed?”
“I never appreciated him or anything he did for me. He was always there for me. Grandpa was both my Mom and Dad after their passing. But I—”
“He knew you’d come around, sweetie. He always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
At that point, she reached into a bag beside her chair, pulling out a brightly colored box. My breath hitched as I recognized the familiar blue wrapping paper: the same kind Grandpa always used for gifts.
“This is for you,” Aunt Daphne said gently, placing the box on my lap. The Xbox I wanted.
“Grandpa wanted you to have this,” Aunt Daphne continued. “He said when you learned the value of hard work and understood the importance of patience and perseverance, it would be yours.”
“I’ll be good, Aunt Daphne,” I promised. “I don’t need this anymore. I have learned my lesson.”
Aunt Daphne’s smile, this time brighter and filled with genuine joy, was all the reassurance I needed. Reaching to the bedside, I pulled out the small honey jar.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Would you like some honey, Aunt Daphne?” I asked, offering the sticky jar.
Taking the jar, she dipped a finger in and tasted the honey. “It’s sweet,” she said, her voice soft. “Just like you, Robyn. Just like you!”
Years have flown by since then. Now, at 28, a million miles from that grumbling teenager to a bee boss with two little terrors of my own (who thankfully love honey!), I learned a thing or two about responsibility.
Thanks, Grandpa! Thank you for everything you taught me! I whisper every single time I see the happiness on my kids’ faces when they enjoy honey.
That delicious honey is a reminder of the beautiful bond Grandpa and I shared.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
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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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