“How will I manage everything like this? I wish you were here, John! I miss you!” the woman thought as she proceeded to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee.
Almost a year ago…
When doctors told Alicia Silvers and her husband John that they wouldn’t have children, they decided to travel around the world. Shows at the Sydney Opera House, tranquil beaches in Honolulu, tables and buffets in Las Vegas, and majestic fjords in Bergen.
They were going to schedule a trip to the Bahamas when Alicia discovered that she was pregnant. She and John were overjoyed and returned to their hometown Fayetteville, North Carolina, to celebrate the moment with close friends and neighbors.
Alicia and John were both orphans, and they were raised in foster care. Alicia was a stay-at-home wife, while John worked as the managing director of a firm that made parts for household electronics.
They had all they could have wanted in a happy marriage. They had a wonderful home in a lovely area, they enjoyed each other’s company, and now they had the delight of becoming parents. But sadly, this happiness didn’t last long, as Alicia’s world came crumbling down one fateful evening.
“Hello? Am I talking to Alicia Silvers?”
“Yes? How may I help?”
“This is Officer Duncan, ma’am. I’m sorry to inform you that your husband was killed in a terrible car accident on Farm Road Highway. We got your contact number from his phone. We’d appreciate it if you could come and confirm the body as soon as possible.”
Alicia couldn’t believe what she was hearing! That morning John had left telling her he was going out of town for a business meeting. She didn’t want him to leave and had told him she didn’t feel right about it. But he’d convinced her that she was overreacting and that everything would be fine.
Alicia was 7 months along with her pregnancy at the time. When John insisted on leaving for his meeting, she relented and kissed him goodbye. He’d promised to return soon, but when she heard the terrible news, she couldn’t bear the shock and went into labor.
Thankfully, she quickly dialed her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Hall, who rushed to her house and called 911. Alicia was immediately rushed to the hospital, where she gave birth to a baby boy. However, due to his premature birth, he was admitted to the NICU for some time.
When Alicia and the baby were discharged from the hospital, she took over John’s business and began working to support her son. Understanding the company dynamics didn’t take her long because she had an MBA. Problems arose because Edduin was very small and constantly demanded his mother’s attention.
John’s secretary, Madison, was extremely helpful to her and understood her situation, so she suggested that Alicia work from home and assisted her in setting up her workspace so that Alicia could care for her baby.
Yes, Alicia could have hired a nanny to look after the boy, but she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to look after her baby on her own, so she started working from home. In that way, somehow, Alicia managed to look after her son and work simultaneously.
Almost a year passed like that. Little did Alicia know she’d soon have another trouble knocking at her door.
The present-day…
As Alicia made a cup of coffee and proceeded to the living room, she arranged all her files and decided to take a final look at the reports for the day. It was around 1 a.m. It took her half an hour to wrap up the work, and the woman retired on the couch due to tiredness.
Suddenly, she awoke at 8 o’clock in the morning due to Edduin’s crying sound. She jumped to her feet and dashed over to him, where she discovered him with tears streaming down his cheeks like a waterfall.
“What happened, honey? Are you hungry?” she asked as she started rocking him. This was the second time in a week that Alicia had noticed Edduin was restless and crying uncontrollably during his sleep.
She looked inside his crib to see if there was anything that was poking him, but she couldn’t find anything. Finally, she concluded that he might be fine after a while and decided to wait and see if the crying continued.
Thankfully, Edduin’s abrupt crying stopped after a week or so, much to her relief, but he appeared to be very tired every day. He kept yawning and touching his face whenever she held him in her arms or tried to play with him, and the toys he’d previously adored seemed uninteresting to him.
Worried, she contacted a doctor about it, but even that didn’t seem really fruitful.
“I’m worried because he seems really calm most of the time, doctor, but he also looks tired in the mornings. Why is that so?” asked Alicia, worried.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Silvers. Babies seem to have a phase,” the doctor advised her. “Perhaps Edduin is going through the same.”
“But how long will it take for him to be fine? I’m really worried about him.”
“Don’t worry much, Mrs. Silvers. There is no such time frame, but everything will be fine. It varies from one baby to another.”
Thinking it was one of those phases, Alicia hoped Edduin would be fine soon. But even after a week, there was no relief, and Edduin just looked more tired with each passing day.
One afternoon, Alicia decided to check on him after putting him to sleep and heard a strange noise coming from his room. It seemed as if Edduin was giggling and there was someone in his room. At first, she thought it was just her suspicion because she burst open the door but didn’t find anyone inside.
Edduin was staring at her from his crib, and the room was strangely quiet. She looked in the bathroom, inside the cupboard, and under the bed, but no one was in the room.
Alicia returned to the living room, thinking it was work-related stress, but the activity continued the next day and the next. Every day, Edduin would jolt awake from his sound sleep, giggling or simply staring around the room.
Thinking something was off, Alicia installed a Wi-Fi baby monitor inside to keep a watch on Edduin and sat in the living room, watching the live feed.
She fixed her gaze on the screen, watching it intently, and everything appeared to be fine for the first few minutes. However, after about 10 minutes, she noticed a sudden movement in the room and Edduin’s lip tilting in a smile.
Fearing that someone had crept into Edduin’s room, Alicia dashed to his room and slammed the door open. Her hands trembled, and she shivered in terror as she realized her baby wasn’t alone in the room.
However, Alicia heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that the visitor was no one but a cute little dog circling Edduin’s crib. He appeared dirty and weak, and he made a low sound that was difficult to hear.
When Alicia opened Edduin’s door, the little dog hid behind Edduin’s crib. Edduin began to giggle, and that’s when Alica understood what had happened.
It turns out that Alicia and John had a pet dog named Doblo, and they’d forgotten to close the dog door in the back of the room after he died. That room used to be Doblo’s game room, but it was converted into a nursery for Edduin after he died.
Since a lot had happened after John had left for his heavenly abode and Edduin was born, Alicia completely forgot to close the dog door. And that’s how the little dog got into the room, playing with Edduin all the time and refusing to let him sleep.
Alicia felt terrible for the poor animal after seeing it in that state and decided to adopt it. Casper, as she named him, is now Edduin’s best friend. A huge thanks to little Casper, now Edduin doesn’t cry as much, sleeps well because Alicia makes sure the two don’t spend all of their time together, and is a much happier baby.
What can we learn from this story?
Becoming a parent is not an easy task. Alicia managing her work and looking after her baby simultaneously is an excellent example of how parents go above and beyond for their children.
Learn to be kind to animals. Alicia adopted the dog after seeing he was in a terrible state.
I Went to Church and Accidentally Heard My Husband’s Voice Coming from the Confessional Booth
Amanda’s life seemed perfect — a loving husband, two wonderful kids, and a thriving family business. But one unexpected visit to the church turned her world upside down when she overheard her husband’s voice coming from the confessional booth, revealing secrets she never imagined.
If someone had asked me last month to describe my life, I’d have said it was near perfect. Eric and I had been married for 12 years, and we had two beautiful kids, Emily and Lucas. Our weekends were spent at soccer games, family picnics, and working together at our small café on Main Street.
Eric was my rock. He had this calming presence that could smooth over any storm. His gentle touch and reassuring smile could dissolve my anxieties like sugar in warm tea.
A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
“We’ve got this, Amanda,” he’d whisper during challenging moments, his fingers intertwining with mine. When Emily’s bicycle chain broke or Lucas struggled with a math problem, Eric would step in with his quiet expertise, making everything seem effortless.
That morning, when Eric kissed me goodbye, there was something different in his eyes — a fleeting shadow I couldn’t quite decode. “Running some errands,” he said, his voice steady, but something beneath it felt… different.
“Pick up milk,” I called after him, more out of habit than necessity. He winked and pointed at me like he always did, but the gesture now felt rehearsed and almost mechanical.
A man walking away | Source: Midjourney
With the house suddenly silent (the kind of silence that seemed to hold its breath) I decided to visit the old church a few blocks down. I hadn’t been there in years. Something about it felt right that day, though an inexplicable tremor of uncertainty rippled through my chest.
Little did I know that within those ancient stone walls, my perfect world was about to crumble.
The church smelled of old wood and candle wax, familiar and soothing. Dust motes danced in the filtered sunlight, suspended between rows of weathered pews.
I wandered through the space, letting my mind drift, hoping to find a moment of reprieve from the constant hum of daily life. It felt peaceful, like I’d discovered a delicate bubble of calm in my relentlessly busy world.
A woman in church | Source: Pexels
As I walked past the confessional booth, a familiar voice floated out… muffled at first, then gradually becoming more distinct.
My steps faltered, a cold shiver racing down my spine. It was Eric’s voice. The timbre was unmistakable… that low, controlled tone I’d known for 12 years.
No, I thought. That can’t be. Eric isn’t here. He’s running errands.
But then he spoke again, clearer this time. “Father, I need to confess something.” The words hung in the air, weighted with a burden I couldn’t comprehend.
I froze, every muscle in my body locking into place. My brain screamed at me to walk away, to unhear what was happening, but my feet seemed rooted to the worn marble floor.
A man in a confession booth in church | Source: Pexels
“I’ve been living a double life,” Eric said, his voice low and trembling. “I’ve been cheating on my wife, Amanda. I have a mistress… and two children with her.” Each word felt like a knife, systematically dismantling everything I believed about our marriage.
My knees nearly buckled. I reached out, desperate to steady myself against the wall, the cold stone biting into my palm like a sharp reminder that this wasn’t a nightmare, but a brutal, horrifying reality.
Mistress? Two children? My Eric?
The words echoed in my mind, fragmenting my entire understanding of our life together. Twelve years of shared memories, trust, and love — all crumbling in an instant.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I backed away, my head spinning, and my chest heaving as ragged breaths escaped me. Tears blurred my sight, transforming the sacred space into a kaleidoscope of broken light. I stumbled out of the church and into the bright morning sun, feeling like a ghost of myself.
I made it to the car before the first sob escaped. It tore through me, raw and uncontrollable…. like a sound of betrayal that seemed to rip from the deepest part of my soul. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white, the leather creaking beneath my trembling fingers.
Each breath felt like broken glass, sharp and painful. Then, my phone buzzed. Eric’s name flashed on the screen, mocking me with its casual familiarity.
A woman holding a phone flashing an inoming call | Source: Midjourney
I wiped at my face furiously, trying to steel myself and find some semblance of composure before answering. My reflection in the rearview mirror was a stranger… eyes red, skin pale, and a mask of shock and mounting fury.
“Hey,” I said, forcing calm into my tone, a performance worthy of an actress.
“Hi, hon,” he said, his voice as smooth and casual as ever. The endearment now felt like poison. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading to a friend’s place to help with his car. Might take a couple of hours.”
A fresh wave of rage and despair surged through me. I could taste the bitterness of his lie and feel the weight of his deception. Yet, I swallowed it down.
“Sure,” I said tightly, each word a carefully controlled dagger. “I’ll see you at home later.”
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
I hung up and stared at the dashboard, my mind reeling. He was lying to me. Calmly. Effortlessly. As if our entire life together was nothing more than a casual script he could rewrite at will.
The silence of the car pressed against me, heavy with the revelation that would forever split my life into “before” and “after”.
I didn’t go home. The thought of returning to our carefully curated life felt impossible. Instead, I parked across the street from the church and waited, my hands gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.
An anxious woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
Ten minutes later, Eric walked out, looking completely at ease. His movements were relaxed, and his face was unburdened by the confession I’d just overheard. He climbed into his car and pulled away, unaware that his entire world was about to shatter.
Something inside me snapped. A cold, calculated fury replaced my initial shock. I started my car and followed him.
He drove through town, taking backroads until he reached a quiet and familiar neighborhood. My heart pounded so loudly I could hear its rhythm in my ears. Each turn, each mile felt like a betrayal unfolding in real-time.
A man driving a car | Source: Unsplash
I watched as he parked in front of a small, familiar house — a place that used to represent warmth and friendship.
Susan’s house. The air left my lungs in a rush. Susan. My former best friend.
We hadn’t spoken in four years, not since a stupid fight over something so trivial it now seemed laughable. I couldn’t even remember the exact details, but it had been petty… something about her flaking on a lunch date and me accusing her of not caring about our friendship.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here she was, caring very deeply about something: MY HUSBAND.
A house surrounded by a beautiful garden | Source: Midjourney
I watched as Eric walked up to the door and knocked. Susan opened it, and my stomach lurched when she smiled at him… warm, intimate, and welcoming. The kind of smile reserved for someone who knows you deeply and who shares your secrets.
Then, they hugged. Not the casual hug of old friends, but something deeper. Intimate. Their bodies melting into each other with a familiarity that spoke volumes.
I sat frozen in my car, a silent witness to the unraveling of everything I thought I knew. As they disappeared inside together, the world around me seemed to blur and sound muted, and the colors dulled.
My perfect life had just become a lie.
A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels
I didn’t think. I just acted. Pure, raw emotion propelled me forward. I threw the car door open and stormed across the lawn, my blood boiling like molten lava. My hands trembled as I pounded on the door with a force that seemed to echo my shattered heart.
When Susan opened it, her face drained of color. The guilt was instantaneous, written across her features like a confession.
“Amanda,” she whispered, the name sounding more like a prayer of desperate apology.
A startled woman opening the door | Source: Midjourney
Eric appeared behind her, his eyes widening in shock, caught in a moment of pure vulnerability. “AMANDA? What are you doing here?” he stammered.
“What am I doing here?” I barked and shoved past Susan into the living room. “I should be asking YOU that.”
That’s when I saw them: two little girls playing on the floor. They looked up at me with wide, curious eyes… eyes that were unmistakably Eric’s. Same shape, same color, and same hint of mischief. They were carbon copies of the man I thought I knew.
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
My knees threatened to give out, but rage held me upright like an invisible steel rod. “Are they yours?” I demanded, my voice a broken whisper that threatened to become a scream.
Eric sighed with a gesture of weary resignation, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I’d once found endearing. “Amanda, let me explain—”
“EXPLAIN?” I cut him off. “Explain how you’ve been sneaking around behind my back for years? How you’ve built an entire second family with my so-called best friend?”
A nervous man | Source: Midjourney
Susan stepped forward, her hands wringing like a pathetic gesture of remorse. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this—”
“Don’t you dare,” I snapped, whirling on her with a fury that made her step back. “You betrayed me. You, of all people. And for what? Your friend’s husband?”
Eric raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Amanda, let’s calm down and talk about this—”
“Calm down?” I laughed. “You don’t get to ask me to calm down, Eric. Not after this.”
The little girls stared, confused and frightened. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. They were innocent in this web of betrayal. But the feeling was quickly consumed by my rage.
Two frightened little girls sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
“This is OVER,” I said, my voice trembling with a finality that felt like a death sentence. “I want a divorce. And you—” I pointed at Susan, each word dripping with venom, “you’re DEAD to me.”
The room fell silent, the weight of my words hanging like a guillotine, ready to sever the last threads of our shared history.
The divorce was swift and surgical, like cutting out a malignant tumor from my life. Eric didn’t contest it, which spoke volumes. Perhaps he knew the depth of his betrayal made any argument futile.
His family, once a second home to me, rallied around me, not him. His father, who had always treated me like the daughter he never had, cut ties with Eric entirely.
Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels
More than financial support, his continued presence felt like a validation. “You deserve so much more, Amanda,” he told me, his weathered hands squeezing mine with a protective fierceness that made me feel supported in my most vulnerable moments.
Eric’s betrayal had shattered me… initially. But in its devastating wake, I discovered a new kind of strength. A strength that wasn’t defined by my roles as a wife or a mother, but by who I was at my core. I wasn’t just Amanda the wife or Amanda the mother.
I was Amanda… a woman with her own identity, her own resilience, and her own power.
A woman looking outside | Source: Midjourney
The pain transformed me. Each tear, each moment of anger, and each sleepless night became fuel for my reconstruction. I wasn’t broken. I was breaking free.
As for Susan and Eric? They could have each other. Their betrayal was their burden to bear, not mine to carry. Because now, for the first time in years, I was truly free. And in that freedom, I found something far more valuable than the life I’d lost — MYSELF.
Portait of an emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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