
When I noticed my wife drawing strange tally marks on her hand, I shrugged it off as a quirky habit. But as those marks multiplied and her answers remained cryptic, I realized something much darker was lurking beneath the surface of our seemingly happy marriage.
“Married life is great, right?” I would say to my friends when they asked. And for the most part, it was. We’d only been married for a few months, and I was still getting used to being a husband. My wife, Sarah, was always so organized, so thoughtful. She had a way of making everything seem effortless.
But then, something changed. I started noticing a strange habit of hers. One day, she pulled a pen out of her purse and made a small tally mark on the back of her hand. I didn’t think much of it at first.
“Did you just mark your hand?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She smiled and shrugged. “Just a reminder.”
“A reminder for what?” I laughed, thinking it was a joke. But she didn’t answer. She just changed the subject.
Over the next few weeks, she did it more and more. Some days, there’d be only one or two marks. Other days, five or more. Then there’d be days with nothing at all. It seemed random, but it bothered me. What was she keeping track of?
The more I noticed, the more I started to worry. It was like she was keeping a secret from me, and that secret was slowly eating away at our happiness.
One night, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Sarah, what’s with the tally marks?” I asked as we were getting ready for bed. “You do it all the time now.”
She glanced at the marks on her hand, then looked at me with that same mysterious smile. “It helps me remember things, that’s all.”
“Remember what?” I pressed.
“It’s just… things,” she said, brushing me off like it was nothing. “Don’t worry about it.”
But I did worry. A lot. I started paying closer attention. She’d mark her hand after dinner. After we argued. After we watched a movie. There was no pattern I could see.
One evening, I counted the marks on her hand: seven. That night, I watched as she transferred them into a small notebook by her bedside table. She didn’t know I was watching.
I decided to check her notebook the next morning. I waited until she was in the shower, then flipped through the pages. Each page had rows and rows of tally marks. I counted them—68 in total.
I sat on the bed, staring at the notebook in my hands. What did this number mean? What was she counting?
I tried asking her again a few days later.
“Sarah, please tell me what those marks are for. It’s driving me crazy.”
She sighed, clearly annoyed. “I told you. It’s just something I do. It helps me remember.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!” I snapped. “What are you remembering? Are you keeping track of something? Someone?”
“Just drop it, okay?” she said, her voice sharp. She looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Please, just let it go.”
But I couldn’t let it go. The marks started to feel like a wall between us. Every time I saw her make a new one, it was like she was putting up another brick, shutting me out.
I became obsessed with the number 68. What was so important about it? I noticed I was being more careful around her, almost like I was afraid to give her a reason to add another mark. But then the marks would still appear, no matter what I did.
One night, after another tense conversation, I watched her add four new marks to her hand. I needed to know what was happening. I needed to figure this out before it drove me mad. But I had no idea how to get the truth out of her. And that scared me more than anything.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that our entire marriage was on the line, and I was helpless to stop whatever was happening between us. I left for several days to see if it changed anything. Well, the tally count has increased to 78 by the time I returned.
The obsession with Sarah’s tally marks was eating me alive. I needed a break from it, but everywhere I looked, I saw her hand with those little black lines, like they were taunting me. So, when Sarah suggested we visit her mother, I thought it would be a good distraction.
Her mother, Diane, and her fifth husband, Jake, lived in a cozy house in the suburbs. It was a typical Saturday afternoon visit: tea, cookies, and small talk. Sarah and her mom were in the kitchen, chatting and laughing. I excused myself to use the bathroom.
As I passed by the guest bedroom, something caught my eye. There, on the nightstand, was a notebook. It looked just like the one Sarah kept by her bed. I hesitated, but curiosity got the better of me. I stepped inside, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching.
I opened the notebook, my hands trembling. Inside, there were pages filled with tally marks, just like Sarah’s. But there was more. Next to the marks were labels: “interrupting,” “raising voice,” “forgetting to call.” Each tally had a label, like it was keeping track of mistakes.
“What the hell is this?” I muttered under my breath.
I felt a chill run down my spine. Was this some kind of family tradition? Was Sarah’s mom counting her own mistakes? Were they both holding themselves to these impossible standards?
I closed the notebook and returned to the living room, trying to act normal, but my mind was spinning. Sarah noticed my unease.
“You okay?” she asked, concern in her eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. “Just thinking about work.”
We stayed for another hour, but I was barely present. My thoughts kept drifting back to that.
On the drive home, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Sarah, I need to ask you something,” I said, gripping the steering wheel.
She looked at me, puzzled. “What’s up?”
“I saw your mom’s notebook today. It looked a lot like yours. Is this something you both do? Are you counting your mistakes? You don’t have to be perfect, you know. You don’t need to keep track of every little thing.”
There was a moment of silence, then she let out a bitter laugh.
“You think I’m counting my mistakes?”
“Well, yeah,” I said, relieved she was finally opening up. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. It’s okay to mess up sometimes.”
She shook her head, staring out the window. “I’m not counting my mistakes, Jack. I’m counting yours.”
The words hit me like a punch in the gut. “What?”
“Every time you break one of your vows, I make a mark,” she said quietly. “When you interrupt me, when you don’t listen, when you say you’ll do something and don’t. I’ve been keeping track since our wedding.”
On our wedding day, I promised Sarah the world in my vows. I vowed never to lie, to always listen without interrupting, and to be there every time she needed me, no matter what. It was a long list of grand, heartfelt promises that sounded perfect in the moment, but looking back, they were almost impossible to keep.
I felt the blood drain from my face. “You’re counting my mistakes? Why?”
“Because I want to know when I’ve had enough,” she said, her voice breaking. “When you reach 1,000 marks, I’m leaving.”
I pulled the car over, my heart pounding. “You’re going to leave me? For breaking some stupid promises?”
“They’re not stupid promises,” she snapped. “They’re our wedding vows, Jack. You made them to me, and you’ve broken every single one.”
I stared at her, stunned. How had we gotten here? How had I missed this? I’d thought she was being hard on herself, but I was the one who’d been careless, dismissive. I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t. I was too shocked, too hurt.
When we got home, I couldn’t sleep. I called Diane, desperate for answers.
“Sarah told me what she’s doing,” I said. “Why didn’t you stop her?”
Diane sighed. “I did the same thing with my past husbands. I thought it would help, but it just drove us apart. It ruined my marriages.”
“Then why let her—”
“I tried to tell her,” she interrupted gently. “But she needs to see it for herself. I count good days now, Jack. Good things my husband does. It changed everything.”
I hung up, feeling more lost than ever. I could only hope that my mother-in-law’s words fell on fertile ground.
That evening, Sarah came home with tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around me. “I didn’t realize how much this was hurting us.”
I held her close, feeling a mix of relief and hope. “Let’s forget the tally marks,” I said softly. “Let’s start fresh.”
The next day, I bought a new notebook—one for us to fill with good memories and happy moments. We made our first entry that night, writing about a quiet dinner we shared, laughing and talking like we hadn’t in months.
As we moved forward, the notebook became a symbol of our promise to focus on the positives and grow together. The tally marks were gone, replaced by stories of joy, love, and gratitude. We were finally on the same page, and it felt like the beginning of something beautiful.
Lady Informs Fiancé’s Family She Is Pregnant, ‘He’s Infertile!’ His Mom Says – Story of the Day

Chris’ parents didn’t accept his relationship with Amanda. When she announced her pregnancy at the dinner, they rushed to call her a cheater because they had just gotten some shocking medical results. Their lives would never be the same.
“I just want to get this over with,” Chris sighed in front of his parents’ house door.
“They’re your parents, honey. We want them to finally accept me and come to our wedding, right?” his wife, Amanda, caressed his arms.

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Chris grunted. “I really don’t care about that, Amanda. I’m sorry, but if they can’t accept the woman I love, I don’t want anything to do with them.”
“Please, honey. We have to make peace with them. What about the future? They’re family. We want them to be a part of our children’s lives, don’t we?” Amanda continued, smiling slightly. The problem is that the young, beautiful woman didn’t see the tightening of her husband’s mouth.
Chris tried to keep his composure after her words, but he only barely managed. “Yeah. I guess,” he muttered through his stiff lips.
“That’s… fine. When are you going to quit your job?” he continued.
“OK! Now, cheer up. We’re in this together,” Amanda perked and hugged his side.
Chris’s mother, Mrs. Castillo, opened the door with her signature fake grin, only slightly lifting her lips.
“Hello, Amanda. It’s nice to see you,” she said, nodding her head subtly and moving, so they could walk through the door.
Chris wanted to roll his eyes. It had been years since he and Amanda got together. They were engaged, and his parents still viewed her as the woman who “ruined their plans.” They wanted their son with someone else and were salty about his decision.
***
When Chris graduated from college and got his first job, his parents introduced him to Ciara, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Geoffrey. Her father was on a local private clinic board and highly well-respected in their town.

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Chris came from the Castillo family, and they had always been wealthy thanks to their great-grandfather’s investments. Chris didn’t care much for that stuff. His parents were obsessed with status and what others would say.
However, he made the most amazing friends at college who came from all walks of life. It truly changed his life, and he realized that the girls he had been exposed to through private school and country club parties were not for him. He wanted a real woman.
And Amanda appeared. He had been at his job for a couple of years and collided with her on his way out of a parking lot. It was love at first sight for him, so he tried to joke, smile, and invite her out straight away.
She worked at a nearby building and was not happy about his advances. But eventually, she said yes to a date, and they had been together since.
The first time she met his parents was a disaster. They told Chris to break things off as soon as she left the restaurant table for the bathroom.
“She’s an assistant. Why can’t you date Ciara? She adores you. This is not the girl for you,” his mother said quietly, but her face showed desperation and disgust.
“Listen to your mother, son. You must marry a woman from your own… ugh… class. It won’t work otherwise,” his dad joined in, shaking his head.
“The two of you need to shut up. I will not listen to this. Ciara is a vapid little princess, and I don’t want to be near her… ever!” he said, forcefully but still discreetly enough.
Amanda returned to the table, and the dinner continued. His parents never had much of a poker face, so this meeting wasn’t pleasant. However, it was worse after those comments, and Amanda sensed it.

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He explained everything later, and she understood, telling him to give his parents time. But it had been a while, and they had yet to warm up. They behaved to her face but grumbled behind her back. Mostly, they tolerated her, especially since they got engaged. Meanwhile, she remained hopeful. Amanda was a glass-half-full kind of person. Therefore, she still called his mother to plan dinners and included her in some of the wedding details.
The only thing Amanda had not been open about was the fact that they were already trying for a baby. She wanted that to be a surprise. With some luck, Mr. and Mrs. Castillo would finally warm up when they started having babies.
***
As they sat at his parent’s dinner table, Chris could only think of wrapping this gathering up quickly. He had something to tell his fiancée, and it was extremely urgent. It might change the nature of their relationship forever. She might even decide to leave him.
“They don’t know what they’re missing. Let them eat cake in their country clubs while you and I find real happiness.”
He had actually talked to his parents about this a few days ago when he received the news. They didn’t have a lot to say about it. Their faces showed sadness and concern, but they remained their stoic selves.
“If Amanda leaves you, let her do it,” his mother told him, but that would kill Chris. So, he had been afraid of telling her the truth.
“So, Amanda,” his father began, snapping Chris out of his thoughts. “How’s work?”

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“Oh, Mr. Castillo. Work is going great. My boss has this huge event coming up, and I’m helping plan everything. It’s been fun, actually,” she replied, happy they showed interest in her.
“That’s… fine. When are you going to quit your job?” he continued.
“Excuse me?”
“Quit. To become a housewife,” Mr. Castillo clarified.
“I’m not quitting,” Amanda said, confused.
“She’s going to keep working, Dad,” Chris intervened, peeved.
“That’s… just fine. Amanda is a modern woman after all, darling,” his mother said, not quite smiling but not angry either.
“Well, I don’t know my plans yet. It’ll depend on the future,” Amanda said and swallowed nervously. “Speaking of which, I have an announcement. I’m pregnant!”
There was extreme silence at the table, which seemed to expand for hours, but it was only a few seconds. Amanda had been sure that a baby was everything this family needed to accept her finally, but she had no idea what Chris had just discovered.
The first person to break the silence was Mrs. Castillo. “He’s infertile!” she yelled, seething. Her eyes were almost red from anger.

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Chris was frozen in complete shock. They had been intimate for a while without protection, hoping for this. But he just got medical results proving that he couldn’t father anyone. That meant… that Amanda had cheated.
“YOU WORTHLESS TROLLOP!” his mother screamed some more. “YOU CHEATED NO MY SON AND GOT PREGNANT? NOW YOU WANT TO BABY-TRAP HIM?”
“Baby trap him? Mrs. Castillo, Chris and I have been trying for months. We wanted to surprise you and start our family right away. What do you mean by infertile? That’s impossible!” Amanda shook her head rapidly, not knowing what to do.
Mr. Castillo wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and stood. “Get out of this house immediately. Never show your face near my son again, or we will get a restraining order,” he threatened quietly.
“Sir! Chris, please. Do something. I don’t understand!” Amanda begged her fiance, but Chris couldn’t move. Suddenly, Mrs. Castillo grabbed Amanda’s hair and started pulling her toward the front door.
“Get out of here now!” the older woman yelled like a banter.
Amanda held onto her hair to prevent more pain, but she repeatedly called out to Chris. It was futile. He was still at the table, looking at his plate and not moving.
“CHRIS!” Amanda shouted finally as the heavy front door slammed.

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***
The next few days were a confusing blur. Chris moved out of their shared apartment, leaving the medical results on their kitchen countertop. He also left a Post-it.
“I was concerned and got tested. I’m infertile. Completely. I hope you have a happy life, but it won’t be with me,” he wrote, breaking Amanda’s heart.
That doctor had to be wrong. She was pregnant, and it was 100% Chris’s baby. She hadn’t been with anyone else for many years. How was this possible? And why wouldn’t he talk to me?
Despite her best efforts, Chris refused contact. When she went to his parent’s house, they called the police, who told her to leave or risk being arrested.
“Fine! I’ll leave! I’ll raise this beautiful baby on my own! You’re the one missing out, and when you realize the truth, it’ll be too late!” she screamed towards the mansion and walked away.

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Despite what the Castillo family tried to imply, Amanda didn’t need to trap anyone. She might not be from a wealthy family, but she had a great job. Her company had a fantastic maternity leave policy, and the entire team was ready to support her dearly. Her boss loved her, so she wasn’t worried.
“What? No, that was just our plan,” Mrs. Geoffrey chuckled, waving her hand.
The problem was facing an utterly different future without Chris and as a single mom. But if others could do it, she could too.
Therefore, she had the baby, named him Paul, and did her best. It was suffocating doing everything alone at times, but she persevered every day for her son. The only problem was that her baby was a carbon copy of Chris. It was impossible to miss.
“Those idiots,” she whispered after putting him down for a nap. “They don’t know what they’re missing. Let them eat cake in their country clubs while you and I find real happiness.”
***
Chris tried to move on with life. His usually cold parents were highly supportive after he moved out of his shared apartment with Amanda. He was thankful for that. The last thing he ever imagined was Amanda cheating on him. It didn’t seem possible despite irrefutable proof.

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But his parents told him everything would be alright soon. And life goes on even when you don’t want it to. He returned to work, found a new apartment for himself, and tried to forget the pain. The future was bleak without Amanda, but his parents tried to cheer him up.
One day, they invited him for dinner, and Ciara was there. Surprisingly, they got along, and she had many interesting things to say. His parents were delighted and encouraged the friendship. Chris didn’t have the fight in him to refuse again.
He started dating Ciara. They were taking things slow, but he didn’t discourage his mother when she talked about a country club wedding. Fine. If this is the life I deserve, I’ll just let them plan everything for me, he thought during his depressing moments.
Amanda was out of his life. He just hoped her baby daddy was a good man.
***
About a year after Paul was born, Amanda was walking down the street, focusing on her cell phone, when she stumbled upon someone.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking,” she apologized, only to raise her eyes and see Chris. “Oh.”
“Amanda,” he said, swallowing. “Hi.”

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“Hello,” she replied awkwardly. “Bye.”
“Wait,” Chris grabbed her hand, but the movement made her drop her phone. “Jeez, I’m sorry.”
He picked it up, and the screen lit. There was a picture of her baby as a screensaver, and his eyes zeroed in on it.
“Give me that,” Amanda snatched it from his hands, finally showing her anger. “You don’t deserve to look at him.”
“Him?” he mumbled, breathless from seeing the image.
“Yes. My son,” she said, lifting her chin. “Mine. Alone.”
Her whole demeanor was surprising. He understood why she would lie about cheating at first, but it had been a while since their split. She didn’t have to pretend anymore.
“I guess it didn’t work out with the father,” Chris commented, wanting to be angry and hurt her somehow.
“Yeah. It didn’t,” she raised her eyebrows. “Bye, Chris.”
And she walked away.

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For several days, Chris pondered hard on the situation. He didn’t remember the picture of the baby much, as she had snatched her phone too quickly. But he had stunning blue eyes. Amanda’s eyes were brown. Of course, anyone could be the father.
But her attitude. The way she was accusing him without actually saying anything was highly odd. Was it possible that he had been wrong? That his doctors were wrong?
It didn’t seem likely because he had gone to Ciara’s father’s private clinic. They had all the latest technologies, so the chances of a false result were odd. But… what if?
He couldn’t think about it much because Ciara dragged him to her mother’s house for a meeting with the wedding planner. Yes, they were engaged, and things were moving fast. He didn’t care. He just wanted his parents to shut up about it.
The whole situation was insane. He had no idea why he was there when Ciara and her mother were picking up everything. When his new fiancée took a break, Mrs. Geoffrey focused on him. She talked a bit about the wedding, the future, how she always knew this day would come, etc.

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But suddenly, she said, “Oh, my god, and the babies you two will have. Precious!”
“Life’s too short for grudges.”
“Babies? Mrs. Geoffrey, I’m infertile. You should know that. I got tested at your husband’s clinic, and everyone knows,” Chris explained, frowning.
“What? No, that was just our plan,” Mrs. Geoffrey chuckled, waving her hand.
“Plan?” Chris asked, his voice turning to ice.
Mrs. Geoffrey seemed only to realize then what she had said. Her face turned white, and her hand flew to her mouth. “I mean…. Ehhh, no. Those things have errors… I think IVF can work…” she stuttered through her words.
And Chris knew everything right away.
Ciara walked back. “OK, let’s continue,” she said, not reading the room.
“Darling, I’m glad you tricked me, and I get to marry you now,” he said unexpectedly. Ciara’s head turned to him quickly.
“You know about that?” she asked, starting to smile.

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“Ciara, no!” her mother whispered.
Chris rose from the couch. “Goodbye. I hope you two rot in hell.”
***
Chris got the entire story from his mother, who was on the phone while he drove to Amanda’s apartment. Luckily, she had never moved out of their shared place, and he still had a copy of the key.
“Chris, you don’t understand!” she wailed, and he didn’t care. He demanded the truth.
His results were indeed a plan. A ruse. A scheme. A betrayal. It was all designed so he would dump Amanda and go to Ciara. Somehow, his mother had discovered how much Amanda wanted to have children. They thought they would separate from the news.
But their plan went even better after Amanda’s pregnancy announcement. Mrs. Castillo mustered her best acting and put on that show. Everyone knew. His parents, Ciara’s parents, and the technician they had paid off and fired later to give the erroneous results. His doctor had even been deceived because he had only seen the fake labs and images.
“You will never see me again,” he told his mother and hung up.

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He knocked, realized Amanda was not home, and decided to go in. He entered the second room and saw the beautiful space she had built for their son. It was blue. There were clouds painted on the walls and toys lying around.
Chris also walked into their bedroom and saw that everything was mostly the same. He sat down on her side of the bed and wanted to break down in tears. But he had to contain himself and think hard. How am I going to win her back and apologize for everything? Will she believe me? he pondered, but the tears showed up, and they wouldn’t stop.
Eventually, he fell asleep.
***
“AAAAH!” Amanda yelled after turning on the light in her room. “Get out of here! I’m calling the police!”
“Amanda!” Chris rushed out of the bed. “Amanda! Amanda! It’s me!”
“Chris! Hell! How could you just walk in here? Are you insane? I was about to grab a knife!” Amanda yelled and hit his shoulder slightly; then she saw his tear-streaked face. “Why are you here in the first place?”
“We need to talk…” he looked down, wetting his parched lips.

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***
“I guess… I’m not surprised, but it’s… still… so unbelievable,” she said after telling her the entire story.
“Yeah,” Chris nodded. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve believed you. I should’ve asked for more tests. I was shocked by the news, and I didn’t know if you would leave me because you always wanted a family. I was an idiot.”
“Yeah, you were,” Amanda agreed. “But I guess it finally makes sense. Like… everything fits. I’m not saying it’s right. But I get it.”
“Is there any way you can forgive me?”
“Life’s too short for grudges.”
“And is there any way I can be in his life?”
“That I don’t know,” Amanda looked down. “It’s been… hard. It’s been lonely. It’s not what we planned together. I don’t know if there’s any going back.”
She had held back tears until now, as the moisture ran slowly down her face as she remembered all that had happened in almost two years. Chris cried with her.
“I know it’ll take me forever, but I will make this up to you. No matter what happens… even if you and I can’t pick up where we left off, you and him are my family. My only family,” he swore, and Amanda looked into his aching, puffy eyes and knew that he was determined.

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“First… you should meet Paul, your son,” Amanda began, wiping her face. “And then, we probably need to think about suing Mr. Geoffrey.”
Chris laughed and cried at the same time. She was her cheerful self despite everything, and as usual, she was right. He needed a lawyer.
What can we learn from this story?
- Always get a second opinion. There can always be false results in the medical field, so you should always check with someone else when a diagnosis seems too drastic.
- Give your partner the benefit of the doubt and let them explain. Chris could’ve saved himself so much pain if he had allowed Amanda to speak. The scheme might’ve been discovered immediately.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who thought her husband was infertile until she met two younger men who looked just like him.
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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