
Matthew filed for divorce from Anne when she couldn’t give him a son, but he still lived in their house. One day, she met Harry, an old friend from school, and eventually realized how much better she was without Matthew. Years later, Anne accidentally ran into her ex-husband and couldn’t recognize him.
“Oh my God! Harry! It’s so nice to see you!” Anne exclaimed when she accidentally stumbled into her old school friend on the street. She had left her five girls with her mother, a rare break for her, and wanted to get a cup of coffee on the streets of Seattle.
“Anne, it’s lovely to see you too! Hey, would you want to get some coffee and catch up?” Harry answered, and she nodded immediately. They went into the café and chit-chatted until Harry asked about her family.

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“Oh… that’s actually a difficult subject,” she began.
“Well, raising five children is not easy for anyone,” Harry commented, knowing a bit of her from social media and such.
“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray.
“Yeah, sure. That’s hard. But it’s more than that,” Anne continued. “Matthew changed after the birth of our twins. They’re 9 and they barely speak to their father. I think they’re scared of him.”
“I don’t understand,” Harry said.
“Matthew wanted a boy, and we hoped, but we had two beautiful girls instead. That’s why we got pregnant again and again, but we kept having girls. After our fifth daughter was born, Matthew became another man. He filed for divorce, and I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Anne explained about her husband, her hand wiping the sweat forming on her forehead.
“Wow. That’s rough. But think about this, you’ll be better off without him, right? I mean if he hasn’t been speaking to your eldest girls, then he couldn’t have been the best father to the rest. You already raised them on your own,” Harry encouraged. “And now that I’m in Seattle permanently, I could help. You could move in with me.”

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Anne’s jaw dropped. She didn’t expect such an offer from Harry, especially since they had just met again after many years. But she knew back in school that he always had a huge crush on her. Still, that offer was too generous and kind. She couldn’t accept it. She changed the subject, and they talked about his successful life.
Meanwhile, things at her house got even worse over the next few weeks. They were divorcing, but Matthew still lived with her, acting like he was single, partying, making noise at odd hours, waking the girls, and being a menace to them.
Anne would talk to Harry all the time, and his offer still stood. But when Matthew decided to bring a girl over to their marital home, Anne was done. She called Harry, packed, and left the house with all the girls.
Their divorce got more complicated when she took Matthew to court to get their big house back. Despite her living in Harry’s house, her soon-to-be ex-husband didn’t deserve to keep their big home. The judge granted her every request based on Matthew’s horrible lifestyle and gave her full custody without question.
Eventually, she and Harry fell in love, and he bought an even bigger home for their family. When she and the girls moved in with him, she put her house up for rent and stopped thinking about Matthew for many years.
***
A year after marrying Harry, Anne had their son, Alan, who was the most beautiful boy in the world, and he had five big sisters adoring him at every moment. Anne couldn’t have been happier.

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More time passed, and one day, she picked Alan up from preschool and decided to drop by the mall to buy him new shoes. The girls were busy with their extracurriculars, so it was only mother and son.
Anne never imagined she would run into Matthew there. He was working at the pretzel shop, in charge of distributing free samples at the mall, and Alan ran up to him asking for some.
“Alan, don’t run away from me like that,” she said to him before catching a glimpse of Matthew’s surprised eyes.
“Anne?”
“Matthew? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking at his uniform and the pretzel tray. It didn’t make sense. Matthew worked in an office as an executive. He earned a decent amount of money. He was required to pay tons in child support, but he never did, and Anne didn’t care. She had more than enough for her girls. But he wouldn’t be able to pay what was required with a minimum wage job at the mall.
“I’m working here,” he said and looked at the boy holding her with one hand and munching on a pretzel with the other. “Is this your son?”

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“Yes, this is Alan,” Anne answered, feeling an intense pride that she had a son that wasn’t his. “He’s Harry’s kid.”
“Oh, nice to meet you, Alan,” Matthew said, looking down and giving the kid a weird look. Of course, it was not Anne’s fault that she gave birth to girls. The sperm determines the gender, and everyone knows that. But Matthew had decided to blame her for years and checked out of their marriage because he wanted a boy, as if gender was important at all.
Luckily, the girls now had an actual father figure, thanks to Harry, who loved them dearly from the first moment they met. They didn’t need him, and Anne never had to see him.
“Listen, Anne. I didn’t want to ask this now. I wanted to take you to coffee or something. But I’m desperate. I lost everything due to my lifestyle, and I was wondering if we could sell our old house,” Matthew asked, his head down in shame.
“Oh… well, it’s currently being rented. But I’ll think about it,” Anne said. “We have to go now. I’ll call you about the house.”

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She grabbed Alan’s hand tightly and walked away from the man who didn’t know what he had thrown away. But she was going to be the bigger person. She sold the house and gave him half its worth, although legally, she could keep the entire thing. But something in her gut told her to do the right thing.
Eventually, Matthew asked to see the girls, but none of them wanted that. The twins were teenagers who grew to hate him, and the rest followed their big sisters’ footsteps. Matthew stopped asking about them and stopped calling after a while. They never saw him again. He wasn’t family.
What can we learn from this story?
- Family is more than just DNA. Matthew didn’t want to be a father to his children, and Harry stepped up for the girls.
- You might regret your actions. Matthew lost everything, including his high-paying job, and it was clear he regretted what he did, but he couldn’t take it back.
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At 58, I Found Love Again, but His Ex-wife Was Hell-Bent on Ruining Our Happiness — Story of the Day

At 58, I thought love had passed me by until I met Oliver. Just as our happiness began to bloom, his ex-wife stormed back into his life, determined to tear us apart. What followed was a battle for peace and the strength to overcome the shadows of the past. Could love conquer all?
“Another quiet morning,” I whispered to myself, gazing out the window at the ocean. The waves rolled in gently, and the breeze carried that familiar, salty scent.
It had been years since my divorce, and I had gotten used to the solitude.
“I don’t need anyone,” I would often remind myself, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard.

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My novels had taken off once I fully committed to writing. The quiet house, with only the sound of seagulls and the ocean, gave me the peace I thought I needed.
But every so often, I’d find myself staring out at the horizon, thinking.
Is this really enough?

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It wasn’t until Oliver showed up that I realized the answer might be no.
One morning, as I sipped my coffee on the porch, I noticed him for the first time. A tall, charming man, maybe a few years younger than me, strolling along the beach with his golden retriever. I watched as they passed by my house.
“Morning,” he called out, tipping his head with a friendly smile.
“Good morning,” I replied, feeling a little shy.

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Each day after that, I found myself looking out for him. I would watch as he walked along the beach, sometimes playing with his dog, sometimes just staring out at the sea. And each time, my heart would skip a beat.
“Why am I so nervous?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. “It’s just a neighbor. Calm down.”
But I couldn’t. And my feelings grew stronger every time I saw him. Still, I hesitated.
Is it possible to open up to someone again?
One afternoon, while I was trimming my roses, I heard a rustling sound and a loud thud behind me.

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Startled, I turned to see a golden blur darting into my garden.
“Charlie! Get back here!” I heard Oliver call, and seconds later, he appeared, breathless and apologetic.
“I’m so sorry! He just got away from me.”
I laughed, bending down to pet the dog.
“It’s alright. He’s cute.”
“He’s a handful, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

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“Do you… enjoy reading?” I asked, my voice tentative, hoping to keep the conversation alive.
Oliver chuckled. “I’m a writer. It comes with the territory.”
“We are colleagues!” My eyes lit up. “I’m a novelist too.”
We talked about our favorite books, about writing, and soon enough, the conversation flowed easily.
“You know,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t usually do this, but… would you like to have dinner sometime?”

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Oliver raised an eyebrow, surprised but pleased.
“I’d love to.”
Just like that, the plan was set.
***
The next evening was perfect. We laughed and shared stories. Maybe this is what I’ve been missing all along. But just as I started to relax, a woman appeared at our table. Her eyes were hard, and she looked straight at Oliver.

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“We need to talk. Now,” she demanded, completely ignoring me.
“Excuse me, we’re in the middle of…” I started.
“Not now,” she snapped, her eyes never even glancing in my direction. It was as if I didn’t exist.
I felt my face flush, my words stuck in my throat. Oliver looked flustered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

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“I’m sorry, Haley,” he muttered, standing up awkwardly. “I have to go.”
I watched, speechless, as he followed her out, leaving me sitting there, feeling invisible. The chatter of the restaurant buzzed around me, but I was numb, frozen in place.
The empty chair across from me seemed like a reflection of how abandoned I felt.

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***
Two days had passed since that awkward dinner, and Oliver still hadn’t called. The silence weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. I felt hurt, confused, and, honestly, a little humiliated.
My mind kept replaying the scene, the way he left without a proper explanation, the way that woman had dismissed me as if I didn’t matter.
I sat at my desk, trying to focus on my writing, but it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to that night.

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Had I made a mistake inviting him? Was he just playing with me? Who was that woman? And why did he leave with her without even a real explanation?
I was about to give up and close my laptop when I heard a knock at the door. My heart raced as I stood up, part of me hoping, and part of me dreading what might come next.
When I opened the door, Oliver was standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hand.

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I stared at him, unsure of what to say.
“I’m sorry, Haley,” he began.
“That woman from the other night… She’s my ex-wife, Rebecca. She shows up like that sometimes, trying to stir things up and ruin my relationships. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I had to leave with her.”
I tried to mask my emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me that then?”

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“I panicked. I should have explained. I’m sorry.”
He paused, offering the flowers.
“I want to make it up to you. I have a literary event coming up. Will you come? It’ll be quieter, and maybe we can spend some time together.”
I hesitated a bit but then nodded.

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***
I had dressed carefully, hoping for a peaceful evening, a chance to talk to Oliver without interruptions. Maybe, tonight will be different.
Oliver greeted me with a warm smile. “I’m glad you came.”
I smiled back, trying to push aside the unease I still felt.
The evening started well. Oliver’s presentation was engaging. For a while, I forgot about everything that had happened.

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But just as I began to feel at ease, the mood in the room shifted.
I saw the same woman from that night at the restaurant. Rebecca. She strode in with a determined look on her face, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Oliver. My stomach dropped.
Without hesitation, she marched over to where Oliver and I stood.
“You thought you could just move on, didn’t you, Oliver?” she spat, glaring at him.
The room grew quiet, and all eyes were on us.

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“Rebecca, this isn’t the time or place.”
Oliver took a step toward her, trying to calm her down, but it only made things worse.
“Time or place? How dare you?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a liar and a cheat! You think you can just forget about everything we had? You think you can walk away from me?”

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People began to whisper, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama.
Rebecca’s eyes turned to me then.
“And you,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “you’re just another one of his mistakes.”
Before I could even respond, she grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby table and threw it in my face. The cold liquid soaked my hair and dress.

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Gasps filled the room. For a second, I just stood there, too humiliated to move. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and all I wanted to do was disappear.
Security rushed in and quickly escorted Rebecca out, but the damage was already done.

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I felt small and exposed. The warmth I had felt earlier was gone, replaced by a crushing sense of shame. I wiped my face and looked at Oliver, who stood there, silent and torn.
“What is going on, Oliver? Why is she doing this? And what aren’t you telling me?”
Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I… I haven’t told you everything,” he admitted, his eyes full of regret.

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“Rebecca and I have been separated for a while, but during that time, I had an affair. It was a mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Then Rebecca came back into my life and took control. She managed everything. My finances. My schedule. She used my guilt to keep me trapped.”
I felt a heavy weight settle over me and realized how deep that mess went.

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“I’ve been trying to leave her for good, but she refuses to let go,” he continued. “I didn’t want to drag you into all of this.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Oliver,” I whispered. “I’m not ready for this kind of drama in my life.”
Without waiting for his response, I turned and walked out, the cool evening air hitting my face as I stepped outside.

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***
Several days had passed since the disastrous evening at the literary event, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Oliver. Despite everything that had happened, I missed him.
I tried to push the feelings away, to convince myself that walking out had been the right choice, but the ache of missing him wouldn’t fade.
One afternoon, as I sat by the window, a flicker of movement caught my eye. It was at Oliver’s house. I watched as Rebecca hurried back and forth, swiftly loading boxes into a car.

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Is he moving out? Why is she here?
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I had to tell him that he needed to be stronger, to stand up for himself, and to stop letting people like Rebecca control his life.
Summoning my courage, I stepped outside and made my way toward his house.
But as I approached, something felt different. Oliver’s car pulled up, and when he stepped out, there was a calm, resolute look on his face—one I hadn’t seen before. I hesitated, keeping my distance, watching as he walked straight to Rebecca.

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“It’s over, Rebecca,” I heard him say. “Take the money, take the house—whatever you want. But you will not interfere in my life anymore.”
Rebecca froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he said, his voice unwavering. “If you don’t respect that, I’ll file a restraining order. This ends today.”
I stood there, shocked. That was a side of Oliver I had never seen.
At that moment, I knew. He had finally taken control of his life, and that was exactly what I needed to see.

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