Leighton, after witnessing how her parents celebrated their anniversary, is sure about one thing — when she gets married, she will do just that. But when her anniversary rolls around, her husband skips their romantic dinner and lies about a meeting. Curiosity prevails, and Leighton follows Josh, only to find him at a motel with the first person he ever loved. Is there a hidden truth, or is the story exactly what it looks like?
I grew up in a home where anniversaries were important and had to be celebrated. It was just something that my parents always paid extra attention to.
My mother would bake a cake every year on their anniversary, even if my father had dinner plans for them.
A woman and little girl decorating a cake | Source: Pexels
“It’s important to celebrate a marriage, Leighton,” my mother would say.
And she would usually be decorating the cake at this point.
“I mean, you’ll understand it one day,” she said. “But married life is difficult, and that’s why you have to celebrate making it another year.”
A little girl decorating a cake | Source: Pexels
Since then, I knew that if I ever got married, wedding anniversaries would be a big deal.
And then I met Josh, who seemed to understand the importance of it — or at least, the sentimentality of it all.
So, the other day was our sixth anniversary, and because it was the middle of the week, there just wasn’t going to be enough time to plan something intimate at home.
A newlywed couple at the beach | Source: Pexels
A dinner out was going to be our best option.
“It’s not a bad idea, Leighton,” Josh said when I told him that we had to settle on that.
“It’s much easier, anyway,” I said, thinking about the fuss of getting home and having to cook an elaborate dinner after a long day at the office.
The weekend before our anniversary, I went shopping and got Josh a new set of ties — my husband was into his tie collection and was always looking to add to it.
A couple at a restaurant | Source: Pexels
Then, on the day, I arranged to pick Josh up from work, excited for our romantic dinner at our favorite restaurant.
I left work a little earlier than usual and parked across the road from Josh’s building, waiting for him to leave work. I sat in the car, reapplying my lipstick and sorting my hair out. I sang along to the radio and waited.
Twenty minutes later, Josh still hadn’t come out. I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer either.
A woman driving a car | Source: Pexels
Eventually, I sent him a text:
Hey, honey! I’m waiting outside — I’m parked across the flower shop.
Not even a minute later, my phone pinged with a text message notification.
Caught up in a meeting, don’t wait for me. I’ll see you at home.
A flower shop exterior | Source: Pexels
My heart sank. I understood the importance of work — especially because Josh loved his job, and he always brought work home, often going through spreadsheets in bed at night.
I was disappointed, I mean, it was our special day. But I knew that these things were sometimes beyond our control. I picked up my phone to reply before driving off.
A woman turning around in the driver’s seat | Source: Pexels
Sure, see you later.
Starting the car, I could only think about sinking my teeth into a sugary donut.
“You can’t keep eating your feelings,” I told myself. “But today calls for it.”
Just then, I saw Josh push open the building door, his briefcase at his side, and his phone in his hand.
A person holding a donut | Source: Pexels
He walked briskly to an unfamiliar car and slid in — not even glancing to see if I was around.
Moments ago, I could imagine eating a donut, now I could only taste confusion and betrayal thick on my tongue.
Of course, I followed him. I needed to know who was driving the car and where they were headed.
I needed to know who my husband would rather spend our anniversary with if not me.
A parked car | Source: Pexels
I followed the car for about fifteen minutes before it started to slow down — we were just outside of town now. There were fewer buildings around, and it was quieter. If anything, the air seemed lighter and fresh.
“What are you up to, Josh?” I asked the silence around me.
A person driving down a lonely road | Source: Pexels
Eventually, the car led me to a decrepit motel on the outskirts of the city. I watched, hidden by the shadows, as my husband got out of the car. Moments later, another man stepped out of the car.
He was also in a suit, holding onto a stack of paperwork. But he walked in another direction — to the motel office, it seemed.
A man in a suit | Source: Pexels
Josh, on the other hand, walked straight up to a room. He knocked once, opened the door, and disappeared into a room.
I couldn’t sit back any longer. My feet moved on their own accord across the street, and there I was, outside the door that was slightly ajar.
A murmur of voices seeped out, spilling onto the pavement.
The exterior of a motel room | Source: Pexels
Pushing the door open, my eyes landed on a scene that knocked the wind out of me.
There was Josh, sitting at a little table, surrounded by paperwork. Directly across from him was a woman. But it wasn’t just any woman, it was Sophia — Josh’s first love.
I couldn’t understand what was happening. It was our anniversary, and Josh was here, in a run-down motel with the first woman he had loved.
It made no sense, but at the same time, a story seemed to be unfolding.
A couple sitting at a table | Source: Pexels
“Happy anniversary,” I said, the words laced with bitterness.
My husband leaped up, his face full of shock and his mouth hanging open.
“Leighton,” he said. “It’s not what it looks like!”
Sophia, her face flushed with surprise, began gathering the papers.
“Then what is it?” I asked. “You skipped dinner for whatever this is.”
My voice broke, teetering on the edge of anger and sorrow.
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“No, Leighton, listen,” Sophia interjected, her voice calm, trying to soothe the storm.
“What are those papers for?” I asked.
I couldn’t see what they were, but my mind was convinced that they were divorce papers. Why else would my husband be sitting in a motel room with another woman?
A pile of paperwork on a table | Source: Unsplash
“Darling,” Josh said, taking a step toward me. “We’re planning to buy this motel.”
“What?” I asked, genuinely surprised by the turn of events.
“We thought that it would make a perfect business venture,” Sophia said. “This isn’t about me, Leighton. I just have the contacts to help it happen. The man who drove Josh here is my husband. He’s sorting out the final paperwork with the owner, who happens to be his brother-in-law.”
My husband nodded earnestly, adding, “I wanted this to be our new start, something that you and I could build together. To create a legacy for ourselves. This was supposed to be official last week, but there was a delay with the owner.”
A smiling man | Source: Pexels
“We only had this evening to sign everything,” Sophia chirped in.
The room was thick with tension as I processed their words.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” my voice softened as my heart rate slowed down.
Sophia looked from Josh to me and back to the pile of paperwork. She helped herself to a piece of candy from the dish in front of her.
A bowl of candy | Source: Unsplash
“I thought keeping it a surprise until everything was set would be… I don’t know, more special?” he said.
He looked down at the dirty carpet beneath our feet.
“So, what now?” I asked, looking at my watch.
“The moment my husband gets back with the signed documents, Josh can sign, and we’ll be done here,” Sophia said, picking up her handbag.
A woman holding her handbag | Source: Pexels
“Have a seat,” Josh said, pulling out a chair for me. “The moment I sign, we can get out of here.”
Sophia excused herself, claiming that she wanted to check out the vending machine because she was starving.
“You really just wanted this to be a surprise?” I asked Josh.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ve been looking into property for a while now. I want it to be our safety net in terms of finances.”
A vending machine | Source: Pexels
We sat together and spoke for a little while longer before Sophia and her husband came in, carrying the stack of paperwork that I had seen him holding earlier.
“Almost done now,” Sophia said, handing Josh a pen.
A little while later, we were in my car, with Josh driving us home.
A person signing a document | Source: Pexels
“I know it’s late, and that we have missed our reservation,” he said. “But let’s get some dinner anyway.”
We went to a diner not too far away from our home.
“No more secrets, Josh,” I said as our food arrived.
“I promise,” he said, reaching for my hand across the table, his eyes earnest.
As we drove home, I realized that although the night had not gone as planned, perhaps it needed to have been that way. With a promise renewed and a future venture to embark on together.
The exterior of a restaurant | Source: Pexels
But as Josh showered that evening, I pulled out the anniversary cake that I had gotten the day before. As it had been my parents’ tradition, I wanted it to become ours.
I surprised Josh with the cake as he was getting into bed.
“This is better than a fancy dinner,” he said.
After seeing the motel, I know that there’s going to be a lot of time and dedication going into it. At least while we try to make it our own.
I have paint swatches and room layouts already planned in my head.
A woman holding a cake | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
MILLIONAIRE SHOCKED TO FIND OUT HIS DAUGHTER AND FOUR GRANDKIDS HAVE BEEN LIVING IN A CAR FOR YEARS – THE STORY THAT WILL LEAVE YOU SPEECHLESS
A woman who was kicked out of her wealthy father’s house at sixteen for marrying a poor man ended up living on the streets with her four children after her husband passed away.
Steve Walton was not happy when his butler informed him that Pastor Morris was waiting to see him. After a long flight from Singapore, he was tired and not interested in hearing the pastor’s lectures or requests for community support.
He had the pastor brought in and, showing his impatience, said, “Get on with it, man! What do you want this time?”
“Mr. Walton, I saw Susan,” the pastor said quietly. Steve’s heart nearly stopped. His only daughter had left his house nearly fifteen years ago, and he hadn’t seen her since.
“Susan?” Steve asked anxiously. “Where? When? How is she?”
“I was in Los Angeles, helping out a friend with a mission for the homeless, and that’s where I saw her,” the pastor explained.
“Was she volunteering? Did you tell her I’ve been looking for her?” Steve asked.
“No,” Pastor Morris replied gently. “She wasn’t a volunteer, Mr. Walton. She’s homeless. She and her children are living in a car.”
Steve felt so dizzy he had to sit down. “Homeless? My Susan? With children?” he gasped.
“I’m afraid so,” the pastor said. “And she wouldn’t even listen to me when I told her to come home.”
“But why?” Steve asked angrily. “She’s not still with that loser, is she?”
“Her husband passed away three years ago, Mr. Walton,” the pastor explained. “She told me she wouldn’t bring her children into a house where their father was hated.”
Steve Walton felt a wave of old rage sweep over him. Even fifteen years later, Susan was still defying him! He remembered the scene in his study, and how Susan had looked him in the eyes as he ranted.
“Pregnant at sixteen, and by the GARDENER!” he had screamed. “We are going to have THAT taken care of, and HE’S fired! You will never see that man again!”
“THAT is my baby, daddy,” Susan had said with a trembling voice. “And HE is the man I love. I’m going to marry him.”
“You marry that man and you’re on your own, Susan, do you hear?” Steve shouted furiously. “No more money, nothing! You marry him and you get out of my house!”
Susan had looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I love you, daddy,” she said. Then she turned and walked away. Despite hiring detectives to find her, no one had been able to trace her.
“How many children?” Steve asked Pastor Morris.
“Four,” the pastor replied. “Three girls and a boy. Beautiful children.”
Steve picked up his phone and demanded that his plane be prepared. “Pastor, would you come with me to Los Angeles and take me to my little girl?” he asked quietly.
The pastor nodded, and within two hours, he and Steve were on Steve’s private jet heading south. When they landed, a limo was waiting to take them to a parking lot outside a large mall.
At the far end of the lot, they found a pickup truck with a tent set up in the back. Pastor Morris had told Steve that after Susan’s husband died in a work accident, the insurance company refused to pay out, and the bank foreclosed on their home.
Susan had packed her children and their few belongings into the old pickup. She worked as a cleaner at the mall and used the mall’s facilities. She also bought leftover food from the restaurants at the end of the day.
Despite everything, Susan managed to keep her four children fed, clean, and in school. As Steve and the pastor approached the truck, they heard cheerful voices and laughter. Two children tumbled out of the back, excited to see them.
The oldest girl, around fourteen, was laughing as she tickled a boy of about seven. When Steve and Pastor Morris approached, the children stopped and stared.
“Mom!” the girl shouted. “That old preacher friend of yours is here!”
From inside the tent, a familiar voice asked, “Preacher Morris?” Susan then emerged, and Steve saw the shock on her face when she saw him standing next to the pastor.
“Daddy?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
Steve was taken aback. His daughter was only thirty-one, but she looked much older. Her face was lined with worry and hardship, and her hands were rough from hard work.
“Susan,” Steve cried. “Look at you! Look at what HE did to my princess! I wanted so much more for you! And you married that loser! What could he have given you? Poverty?”
Susan shook her head and said, “He loved me, Daddy, and he gave me four beautiful children. He passed away, and I had nowhere to go, but I’ve done my best for my kids. I will always love their father, just like I’ve always loved you.”
Steve found tears streaming down his face. “Forgive me, Susan,” he sobbed. “Please forgive me. Come home, I want you all to come home with me. Let me help you take care of the children!”
As Steve held his weeping daughter, he knew that everything would be alright. Susan introduced him to his three granddaughters and then placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And this,” she smiled, “is little Stevie!”
“You named him after me?” Steve asked, amazed. “After what I did?”
Susan looked at her father and said softly, “I love you, Daddy. Don’t you know that?”
That afternoon, they all flew back to Texas together. It marked the start of a new, better life for the whole family.
What can we learn from this story?
– **Love Your Children Unconditionally:** Steve’s anger at Susan for loving someone poor led him to lose his daughter. Accept your children no matter who they love.
– **Don’t Judge People by Wealth:** Steve didn’t like Susan’s husband because he was poor, but he was a loving and dedicated father. Don’t judge people by their money or status.
Share this story with your friends. It might bring them hope and inspiration.
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