Megan’s chaotic gala planning took an unexpected turn when she matched with a witty “MysteriousMovieGuy” on a dating app. Weeks of banter led to an invite to meet at the gala, but he declined, citing work. Little did she know, their worlds were about to collide most surprisingly.
Megan leaned back in her chair, pressing her fingers to her temples as the noise in the study room grew louder.
It was supposed to be a “think tank” session for the upcoming charity gala, but it had spiraled into chaos.
Papers were scattered across the table, coffee cups were dangerously close to spilling, and her friends were more interested in debating snack options than solving the real problem.
“Can we focus, please?” Megan groaned, her tone edged with frustration.
“The gala is in three weeks, and we still don’t have a keynote speaker. You know, the person who’s supposed to inspire the audience?”
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Sarah, sitting cross-legged in her chair, tapped her pen thoughtfully.
“What about that guy who wrote the book on workplace dynamics? He’s local and pretty well-known.”
Megan wrinkled her nose. “Too dry. We need someone engaging, someone who won’t put the audience to sleep.”
From the corner of the room, Liam snorted.
“Engaging, like you? Miss Overachiever herself?” He leaned back with a smug grin, clearly enjoying her irritation.
Megan shot him a withering look but didn’t respond. Instead, she reached for her phone, desperate for a distraction.
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A buzz on her screen caught her attention—a notification from the dating app she’d reluctantly joined a few weeks ago.
New match! Hello, you seem interesting. Tell me about the worst movie you’ve ever seen?
Megan’s lips twitched into a faint smile. She typed back without hesitation:
“Easy. That one where the dog talks like a frat boy. And you?”
The reply came almost instantly:
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“The one about the volcano and the cloud. Who thought that was a good idea?”
She chuckled, the tension in her shoulders easing as she read the response.
The conversation flowed effortlessly from there, pulling her into a world far removed from the chaos of the study room.
“What’s so funny?” Sarah asked, leaning over to peek at Megan’s phone.
“Nothing,” Megan said quickly, locking the screen and shoving the phone into her bag.
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But as the group continued their debate, Megan found her thoughts drifting back to the witty stranger on her screen.
For the first time that day, she felt herself relax, the weight of the gala temporarily forgotten.
Megan sat cross-legged on her couch, her laptop open but ignored as she scrolled through her messages with “MysteriousMovieGuy.”
Over the past few weeks, their chats had become her favorite part of the day.
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She’d found herself looking forward to his clever responses, hilarious take on bad movies, and the surprising depth he showed when talking about life.
She typed a quick message: “Pineapple on pizza is still a crime against humanity.”
The reply came seconds later. “Agreed. But we can all agree that garlic bread is sacred, right?”
Megan grinned, leaning her head back against the cushions. It was strange how easy it was to talk to him.
They’d swapped embarrassing childhood stories, debated their dream travel destinations (he wanted to hike the Andes; she dreamed of seeing the Northern Lights), and even created a ridiculous running joke about opening a “bad movie appreciation club.”
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Yet, despite all the banter and laughs, they hadn’t met in person. Megan didn’t mind at first—it felt like a fun escape from reality.
But now? Now, she wanted to meet him and see if their connection held up in the real world.
Picking up her phone, she typed out a bold message:
“Want to meet tonight? I’ll be at this fancy event, so it could be a fun surprise!”
She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart racing.
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The minutes ticked by. She checked her phone, refreshing the chat, her stomach twisting in nervous anticipation.
Finally, her phone buzzed. She opened the app to see his reply:
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I have a work obligation. Rain check?”
Megan sighed, the disappointment settling over her like a blanket. She stared at the screen, her mind racing with questions.
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What kind of “work obligation” did he have? Was he making an excuse?
Pushing those thoughts aside, she typed back:
“Of course. Good luck with work!”
Setting her phone down, Megan let out a long breath. Tonight would be busy enough with the gala.
Still, a small part of her wished he could’ve been there, even just to see if he was as wonderful in person as he was behind the screen.
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The College Ballroom buzzed with energy, the air filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses.
Megan moved gracefully between tables, her clipboard in hand, ensuring everything ran like clockwork.
The soft glow of the chandeliers cast a golden sheen over the crowd, reflecting off her sequined dress.
Despite the glamour and success of the evening, a faint disappointment lingered in the back of her mind.
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“Megan!” Sarah called from across the room. “The dessert table’s running low. Should we bring out the backups?”
“Go ahead,” Megan replied, offering a distracted smile. She glanced at her watch, wondering when the keynote speech would begin.
Near the bar, Liam leaned casually against the counter, sipping his drink like he had no care in the world. Megan made a beeline for him, her heels clicking on the polished floor.
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“Where’s the keynote speaker?” she asked, exasperation creeping into her voice.
Liam gave her one of his trademark smirks. “He’s here. Relax, you’ll love him.”
“Liam—” she started, but the emcee’s voice interrupted her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our keynote speaker, Chris!”
Megan turned toward the stage as polite applause filled the room. Her eyes widened as Chris stepped into the spotlight.
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He was tall, with a confident stride that exuded charisma. His sharp suit fit perfectly, and his easy smile was enough to disarm even the most skeptical guest.
Her breath hitched. There was something about the way he carried himself, his natural charm.
She didn’t recognize his voice but found herself captivated as he spoke. His humor was effortless, his anecdotes sharp and relatable.
The audience laughed and nodded along, hanging on his every word.
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Megan’s heart raced, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
There was something eerily familiar about him—his mannerisms, playful wit, and the way he used just the right amount of self-deprecation.
When Chris wrapped up his speech, the crowd was on its feet, applauding enthusiastically. Megan clapped along, her mind swirling with questions.
“See?” Liam said, nudging her arm. “Told you he was good.”
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Megan barely heard him. She was too busy trying to shake the strange feeling in her chest. Who was this guy, and why did he seem so… familiar?
The hum of conversation filled the air as the gala afterparty hit its stride.
Guests lingered around the ballroom, their laughter and chatter blending with the soft clink of glasses.
Megan, still buzzing from the night’s success, scanned the room. Her eyes landed on Chris, casually leaning against the bar, a half-empty glass in his hand.
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“Okay, Megan,” she muttered, gathering her courage. “Time to stop overthinking.”
Her heels clicked softly as she approached him. He didn’t notice her until she was just a few feet away.
“Great speech,” she said, offering a confident smile.
Chris turned, surprised, his expression quickly shifting to warm amusement. “Thanks,” he replied. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“I’m Megan,” she said, extending her hand.
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“Chris,” he replied, shaking it firmly. His grip was steady, his demeanor calm, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
“So,” Megan began, her tone light, “what’s a keynote speaker like you doing standing here all alone?”
Chris chuckled, gesturing to his phone.
“Actually, I’m not alone. I’m talking to someone.”
Megan’s curiosity got the better of her as her gaze drifted to his screen.
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Her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of the familiar text exchange. The last message read:
“Rain check?”
She froze, her breath catching.
“Wait… are you ‘MysteriousMovieGuy’?”
Chris’s eyes widened, realization dawning as he stared at her. “And you’re… MovieBuff123?”
For a moment, they both stood there, stunned. Then Megan let out a laugh, equal parts disbelief and amusement.
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“You’re the guy I’ve been texting?” she said, her voice rising slightly.
“And you didn’t think to mention you were a keynote speaker?”
Chris grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Didn’t exactly come up. And you didn’t mention you were the gala organizer.”
Megan folded her arms, a playful smirk on her lips.
“Touché.”
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They laughed, the tension between them easing into something warmer.
“So,” Chris said, setting his drink on the bar and leaning slightly closer, “what now? Still want that rain check?”
Megan tilted her head, pretending to consider. “How about dinner instead? You owe me for dodging me earlier.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his grin widening.
Megan’s mind buzzed with questions and possibilities as they left the bar. But for the first time that night, she wasn’t overthinking.
She was just… excited.
She realized that sometimes, the best surprises aren’t planned. Sometimes, life connects the dots in its own unexpected, beautiful way.
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Man Kicked Pregnant Woman out – Story of the Day
I was so thrilled to reveal our pear-sized growing baby to my boyfriend, thinking he would be delighted with a surprise party and the ultrasound images. Instead, he threw me out of his house and the last person I imagined was right there for me.
The doorbell’s bright chime disrupted my excited anticipation. I smoothed the baby blue tablecloth and set down the ultrasound scans on the coffee table, displaying them proudly. After four months, Miles was returning from pursuing his football dreams.
He was coming home to a surprise. As he entered, sweat-streaked and weary, his eyes fixed on the swell beneath my dress. I was pregnant, but my excited anticipation faded under his intense gaze.
“Miles, we’re having a baby,” I stated, my voice wavering.
“I never wanted to be a father, Bella,” he scoffed. “You’re ruining everything!
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Suddenly, I noticed his friend, Dave, standing right behind him. He spoke up from the doorway. “Stop yelling at her, man.”
“This is none of your business, Dave!” Miles snapped back and slammed the door in his friend’s face.
I clutched my belly protectively as tears blurred my vision. “I want this child, Miles. It’s part of us,” I insisted.
“I can’t deal with a baby now, Annabelle. It’s your problem if you keep it,” he shook his head.
“But I thought you loved me,” I whispered.
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“That’s not enough. Love doesn’t win championships,” he retorted. “It’s the baby or me. You choose.”
“I won’t give up our child,” I declared, strength rising within me.
“Then leave my house—and my life!” he demanded, his eyes unyielding.
With a protective resolve for my unborn child, I packed my things and left, knowing I could never choose Miles over this new life.
Snowflakes spiraled under the streetlamp’s glow as I struggled with disbelief. Miles’ betrayal echoed in my mind, shattering my dreams for the future. I sat on a snow-draped step, cradling my belly, feeling utterly alone.
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Echoes of my lonely past – growing up in an orphanage and never making familial connections – loomed over me. But out of nowhere, Dave appeared, his concern etched in the snow-melted paths on his face.
“Annabelle, come with me until you figure things out,” he offered, kneeling to look into my eyes.
I hesitated, pride warring with desperation. “I can’t, Dave. I don’t want your pity.”
His earnest plea broke through my resolve as a sudden pain clenched my abdomen. “You need a safe place. Let’s go,” Dave insisted.
Reluctantly, I acquiesced, guided more by necessity than choice, and we drove through the blizzard to his cozy, cluttered home. It was such a different atmosphere than what I’d known with Miles, filled with warmth and haphazard charm.
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Mismatched furniture and overflowing bookshelves spoke of a life well-lived.
“Thank you,” I murmured, grateful yet overwhelmed.
While I settled in, Dave fumbled with hospitality, offering me food and insisting on my comfort. Dinner was simple but nurturing, and it brought a semblance of peace. But when Dave told me he was sleeping on the couch, I had to protest.
“I’m not a burden, Dave. You should be comfortable in your own home,” I shook my head.
“It’s fine, Annabelle. Rest now. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow.”
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***
I lay in Dave’s guest room, struggling against the haunting memory of Miles’ indifferent gaze. Sleep eventually claimed me after several hours of sifting through painful thoughts and tears.
A week later, the rhythm of life with Dave brought a semblance of normalcy. He was ever considerate, his kindness so different from what I knew with my ex. However, I had to fend for myself.
One crisp morning, after Dave left for work, I slipped out with a heavy heart. I’d taken a supermarket delivery job, so I wouldn’t burden him with more of my troubles.
But the job proved harder than I imagined. Trudging through the snow, the weight of groceries, and my growing discomfort only made things harder. Also, I should’ve known Dave would try to find me.
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Suddenly, his car pulled alongside me on a busy sidewalk. His expression was full of worry and astonishment.
“Annabelle, why are you working like this?” he asked.
Trying to downplay my efforts, I mentioned needing the job for my prenatal needs. Dave frowned and shook his head angrily, but I know it stemmed from care and concern.
“I can’t just sit around, Dave. I need to prepare for the baby,” I continued, my resolve firm.
He sighed, leading me to the back of his car. “Let me show you something,” he said, opening the trunk and revealing a collection of maternity essentials. I began crying, overwhelmed by his thoughtful preparation.
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“Why all this, Dave?” I inquired through the tears.
“It’s for you and the little one,” he said with a heartfelt smile. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Annabelle.”
His words and actions, so full of unconditional support, deepened my gratitude. Hugging him, I whispered, “You’ll make a great dad someday, too.”
Still, I was still hesitant. Accepting even more from Dave seemed wrong. But he proposed a trade-off: my cooking for his support. He also joked and teased me, and that light-hearted banter eased the tension in my body and heart.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I laughed genuinely. Over the next few days, our pact became a beautiful routine at his house. I found solace in the simple acts of kindness he showered upon me.
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At the supermarket, I resolved to leave my job. I could afford to, at least for now, thanks to Dave’s support. And as time passed, our connection deepened.
Dave’s gentle presence became a constant in my life. His care was evident in every gesture, from tying my shoes to surprising me with thoughtful gifts.
One day, as he felt the baby kick, the joy in his eyes sparked a realization in me: I was falling in love with him. But fear crept in, overshadowing my newfound happiness. Could someone like Dave truly love a soon-to-be single mother with a complicated past?
These thoughts haunted me, and I wrestled with the idea of confessing my feelings, fearful of risking the precious bond we’d built.
***
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During a routine chicken casserole night, Dave arrived from work, smiling tiredly. “Smells incredible,” he complimented, placing some tulips on the table.
As we ate, he praised the meal. “Annabelle, this is phenomenal. Reminds me of my mom’s cooking.”
I felt warmth running through my body at his words. So, as we talked, our shared memories made me bold. “I’m so glad you liked it, honey,” I said, immediately regretting the slip.
Dave’s reaction was immediate: his smile faltered. Our pleasant moment was shattered, and I panicked. “Dave? I… it’s just pregnancy brain, I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying to lighten the mood.
He attempted a grin again but stood from the table. “Delicious, as always. Thanks,” he said, leaving the room abruptly.
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The following days were filled with awkward silences. Dave’s behavior changed; he left early and returned late. His greetings were brief, and his eyes always avoided mine.
One afternoon, I was curled up on the couch, lost in a sea of worry and self-loathing, when a sharp electronic chime shattered the oppressive silence.
It was a voicemail notification on Dave’s phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table.
A woman’s voice, professional and polite, filled the room. “Mr. Evans, this is a reminder that the documents for your new apartment are ready for pick-up at your convenience.”
The message struck like a blow, sinking my heart. Dave was planning to move. Heartbroken, I realized I couldn’t stay, not as a reminder of a complicated situation he wanted to escape.
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So, I decided to go, my heart even heavier than when I tried to leave before. “We have each other, my little boy,” I whispered to my belly, preparing to face the world alone as I packed.
Before I could leave, though, the blare of the doorbell made my entire body jerk. For a second, I thought it was Dave, but I opened the door to see Miles, who sneered at my pregnant form. His first words dripped with disdain. “Motherhood’s added a few pounds, huh?”
“What do you want, Miles?” I asked, my voice sharp.
He breezed past, dismissing my anger with a smirk. “Just checking on you and my bachelor buddy’s hospitality,” he said, his tone patronizing.
His audacity stunned me. “Get out,” I demanded.
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He ignored my command, finally getting to the point. “Let’s be a family, Annabelle. Think of the publicity for me, the ‘devoted dad.’”
Publicity? For his football career? Was he insane? He wanted to use our child for his gain! Revolted, I pushed him away, condemning his monstrous selfishness.
Miles laughed. “What are you going to do without me? You think Dave took you in because he loved you? Cared about you and your baggage? You were just another project, a chance to play hero. A charity case, not his ladylove.”
For a second, I considered his words, my thoughts warring in my head. But a sudden pain, sharp and unavoidable, distracted me. A few beats later, liquid splashed on the floor.
“My water broke, Miles,” I gasped, panic setting in as another contraction hit.
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His reaction shifted from mockery to horror. “The baby’s coming?” he asked, staggering back in disbelief.
As pain overwhelmed me, Miles fainted, and darkness edged my vision. But during the chaos, Dave’s voice reached me, like a knight ready to save the princess.
“Annabelle? Are you alright?” Dave asked, worriedly taking my hand. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“I… I’m so sorry, Dave,” I stammered, tears blurring my vision further. “For everything. For intruding into your life, for making you take care of me all these months. I know… about the new apartment. You were moving out because of me.”
Dave frowned and then, sighed, exasperated. “You’ve got it all wrong. The apartment is for us, Annabelle,” he explained. “It has a nursery for our baby. I love you.”
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Another sharp pain overtook my body before I could gush over his confession. Dave scooped me in his arms and put me in his car, not even caring that Miles was still unconscious on his tiled floor.
The drive to the hospital was full of agony and anticipation. Our baby boy Matthew’s arrival was a chorus of cries and relief, but it marked the beginning of our new journey, one full of love.
Years later, with the birth of our daughter Hope, our family became complete. Dave’s unwavering passion and protectiveness turned past pains into distant memories I never thought about again.
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While a pregnant Annabelle found true love after being kicked out by her boyfriend, in another corner of the world, Megan found her special someone after her husband David left her. He not only fat-shamed his devoted wife but also dumped her for another woman. Here’s the full story.
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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