“Everything okay?” I asked as we sat down.
Fiona glanced up, startled. “Oh, yeah. Just checking something quick.”
I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. This was supposed to be our special night, but she seemed a million miles away.
The waiter appeared with menus. “Can I interest you in our anniversary special? A bottle of champagne to start?”
“That sounds perfect,” I said, smiling at Fiona. “What do you think, honey?”
She was staring at her phone again. “Hm? Oh, sure. Whatever you want.”
I sighed and ordered the champagne. As the waiter walked away, I reached across the table and gently touched Fiona’s hand.
“Hey, can we maybe put the phones away? It’s our anniversary.”
Fiona looked guilty. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just this new video series I found —”
I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Another prank channel?”
“They’re hilarious, Aidan! You should see some of these —”
I tuned out as she launched into a description of the latest viral prank. My mind wandered back to the past few weeks, and I felt my stomach tighten.
It had started innocently enough, Fiona showing me funny videos on her phone, and both of us laughing. But then she’d started trying to recreate them at home.
There was the time she jumped out from behind the shower curtain, nearly giving me a heart attack. The fake spider in Nora’s lunchbox that made our daughter cry. The “broken” glass prank that left Callum afraid to touch anything in the kitchen for days.
Each time, Fiona would laugh it off. “It’s just a joke!” she’d say. “Don’t be so serious!”
But I’d seen the fear in our kids’ eyes, felt the constant tension in my own shoulders. It wasn’t funny anymore. It was exhausting.
I snapped back to the present as the waiter returned with our champagne. Fiona was still talking, gesturing animatedly about some YouTuber’s latest stunt.
Fiona stood up abruptly. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back.”
I watched her walk away, a sense of unease growing in my stomach. Something felt off.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted behind me. I turned to see Fiona stumbling between tables, clutching her throat.
“I can’t breathe!” she gasped, falling to her knees. “Help me!”
The restaurant erupted in chaos. People rushed to her side, calling for help. I sat frozen, unable to process what was happening.
Then Fiona started laughing. “Just kidding!” she announced, getting to her feet. “It was a prank!”
The silence that followed was deafening. I felt the eyes of every patron boring into me. Fiona grinned, oblivious to the horror on everyone’s faces.
“Ma’am, that was extremely inappropriate,” the manager said, approaching our table. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I stood up, grabbing my coat. “I’m leaving,” I said, my voice tight with anger. “Without my wife. You can get an Uber home on your own,” I informed her.
Fiona’s smile faltered. “Aw, come on. It was just a joke!”
I didn’t even respond. I couldn’t even look at her. I rushed out to the car and made off before she had time to respond — besides, she needed to settle the bill anyway.
As soon as I got home, I headed for the kids’ rooms. “Pack a bag,” I told Nora and Callum. “We’re going to Uncle Declan’s for a bit.”
An hour later, I was knocking on my brother’s door, two sleepy kids in tow. Declan took one look at my face and ushered us inside without a word.
“Guest room’s all yours,” he said, helping me with the bags. “Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Not tonight. Thanks, bro.”
My phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Fiona. I ignored them all and tried to sleep.
The next morning, I woke to find 37 missed calls and twice as many texts. I scrolled through them, my anger reigniting.
“You’re overreacting.”
“It was just a joke!”
“How could you embarrass me like that?”
“You owe me an apology.”
I tossed the phone aside, disgusted. How could she not see how wrong she was?
As if on cue, my phone rang again. This time, it was Greta, Fiona’s mom. I hesitated before answering.
“Aidan! What’s this I hear about you abandoning my daughter at a restaurant?” Greta’s voice was shrill with indignation.
I took a deep breath. “Hi, Greta. It’s not what you think.”
“Oh? Then explain it to me, young man. Because from where I’m standing, you left your wife alone on your anniversary. That’s pretty low.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Fiona pulled a prank, Greta. A bad one. She pretended to choke in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “She did what?”
I recounted the events of the previous night, including Fiona’s recent obsession with pranks and how it was affecting our family.
When I finished, Greta was quiet for a long moment. Then she sighed heavily. “Oh, Aidan. I had no idea it had gotten this bad.”
“Yeah, well. Now you know.”
“I… I don’t know what to say. If things are really this bad, I… I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted a divorce.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Divorce? Is that where we were headed?
“I don’t know, Greta,” I said honestly. “I just need some time to think.”
After we hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. Was this really the end of our marriage?
I spent the day in a daze, mechanically going through the motions of caring for the kids. By evening, I’d made a decision.
I called Fiona. “Meet me at the restaurant tomorrow at 7 p.m. We need to talk.
She agreed immediately, sounding relieved. I hung up before she could say more.
The next night, I arrived at the restaurant early. My palms were sweaty as I clutched the envelope containing the divorce papers I’d had drawn up that afternoon.
Fiona walked in, looking smaller and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair disheveled.
“Hi,” she said softly, as she took a seat alongside me.
“Hi,” I replied, my throat tight.
We sat in awkward silence for a moment. Then Fiona burst out, “Aidan, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you or the kids. I just got carried away with the pranks and —”
I held up a hand to stop her. Without a word, I slid the envelope across the table.
Fiona’s hands shook as she opened it. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was looking at.
“No,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please, Aidan, no. We can work this out. I’ll stop the pranks, I promise. Please don’t leave me.”
I let her cry for a moment, my own eyes stinging. Then I took a deep breath.
“It’s a prank,” I said quietly.
Fiona’s head snapped up. “What?”
“The divorce papers. They’re not real. It’s a prank.”
Her mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. I leaned forward, my voice intense.
“This is what it feels like, Fiona. This is how your pranks make us feel. Scared, hurt, betrayed. Is this what you want for our family?”
Fiona’s face crumpled. “No,” she sobbed. “God, no. I’m so sorry, Aidan. I never realized…”
I reached across the table and took her hand. “I love you, Fiona. But this has to stop. No more pranks. Ever. Can you promise me that?”
She nodded vigorously, squeezing my hand. “I promise. No more pranks. I’ll delete all those stupid videos. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I exhaled slowly, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. “Okay,” I said. “Then let’s go home.”
As we stood to leave, Fiona hesitated. “Aidan? Thank you for not giving up on us.”
I pulled her into a hug, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. “We’re in this together,” I murmured. “For better or worse, remember?”
She laughed softly, a sound I realized I’d missed. “I remember. Let’s aim for ‘better’ from now on, okay?”
I nodded, feeling cautiously optimistic for the first time in weeks. As we walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, I knew we had a long way to go. But at least now, we were on the same page.
And there wasn’t a prank in sight.
What would you have done?
Poor Guy Escapes on His Wedding Day, 50 Years Later Bride Discovers It Was Her Father’s Plan – Story of the Day
Karl was forced to run away from his wedding, but Jessica never understood why he stood her up at the altar. Years later, she received a note in the mail with his name on it. No matter how much time had passed, Jessica never forgot him, and what he wrote was astonishing.
“You will leave this church immediately and never return. Do you understand me, boy?” Hubert Pennigton, Jessica’s father, threatened Karl with a stern look. They were standing in the men’s dressing room behind the church, and Jessica was getting ready just across the hall in the other room.
“I’m not a boy, sir. I’m a man, and I love your daughter. I will not abandon her. It’s our wedding day,” Karl insisted, pleading his future father-in-law to understand.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I never liked you two dating, and I’m not going to let this continue. My daughter will not be marrying a loser who works paycheck to paycheck,” the older man sneered. “Do you hear me? I have friends in high places, as well as connections in some others. I can make your life a nightmare. If you don’t disappear willingly, I’ll make you leave by any means necessary.”
“Is that a threat?” Karl asked, squaring up to Hubert, trying not to show how afraid he was. He knew Jessica’s family was connected to some important people and a few dangerous folks, too, so Karl knew the older man’s words were not in vain.
“I don’t make threats, boy, I make promises. Now, you will leave this place right now without anyone noticing and ghost Jessica forever, OR ELSE!” Hubert finished, raising his voice, in the end, to get his point across thoroughly. He poked his index finger in Karl’s chest painfully, gave him a disdainful look, and exited.
Karl didn’t know what to do. He truly loved Jessica, but her father would hurt them both just to get his way. He paced around the room for a few more minutes then decided to leave before his groomsmen came to find him. He was quick, exiting through the back of the Masonic Temple in Detroit, Michigan and hailing a cab right there.
“Where to, sir?” the taxi driver asked.
“DTW, please,” Karl replied. He was going to the airport and flying across the country to get away from these people. I hope Jessica can forgive me, Karl thought while resting his elbow on the window sill and facing out.
Fifty years later…
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
At 75, Jessica liked to sit outside on her porch and watch the kids running around Rosedale Park Historic District, one of the best neighborhoods in Detroit. She always took a cup of tea and a book to read. It was a peaceful time, but Jessica inevitably thought about her life during those times. Today was that kind of day.
She remembered her first wedding well, as it was the only time she was ever excited to have one. Karl was the love of her life, or so she thought. But when she reached the end of the aisle on her father’s arm, she saw everyone’s worried faces. Karl had disappeared, and no one knew why. They waited hours for him to return.
His groomsmen went to his house, and everything was intact. But Karl never returned, and Jessica cried on the steps of the Masonic Temple for several more hours. It was one of the best wedding venues in the city, and she always dreamed of getting married there. However, it was not to be. Her mother comforted her as best she could, but her father was actually happy.
Five years later, her father introduced her to Michael Keller, the son of a family friend. He was wealthy and connected, so her dad pushed until she accepted his proposal. They got married and had a daughter, Cynthia, almost immediately. However, Jessica filed for divorce the moment her father died.
Her husband had cheated throughout their entire relationship and was glad to separate from her, so it was a win-win situation for everyone involved. She took the then-six-year-old Cynthia, moved to her house in the Rosedale Park area, and forgot about her failed love life.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Years went by, and Cynthia grew up to become an amazing career woman. She got married right there at the Masonic Temple and gave Jessica three gorgeous grandchildren, who visited often.
I had a great life, Jessica thought to herself while sipping her tea. It was true, although she never tried dating again. But once in a while, she thought about Karl and still wondered why he had disappeared.
Suddenly, the mailman snapped her out of her inner musings with a bright smile and a loud, “Hello, Mrs. Pennington!”
“Oh, dear. You scared me,” Jessica answered after almost dropping her tea.
The mailman laughed and apologized humorously. “I’m sorry, ma’am. But I have a letter for you. I think someone wrote it by hand even. So fancy! People don’t do that anymore,” the mailman said, handing Jessica the letter. She thanked him with a smile, and he left, waving goodbye.
The last thing she expected to see was the name “Karl Pittman” on the envelope, but it was right there along with her name and address.
“I can’t believe this,” she breathed and settled her cup of tea on the porch railing with a shaking hand. Suddenly, she was back at that church, crying on her mother’s shoulders.
Her hands still shook as she tried to open the envelope. She took a big breath before starting to read what was Karl’s unmistakable handwriting.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Dear Jessica,
I don’t know if you’ll be glad to hear from me. But after all this time, I want you to know that not a day goes by where I don’t think about you. Your father threatened me on our wedding day, and I was young and afraid. I shouldn’t have listened, but I did, and I ran off. I moved to California with nothing but the clothes on my back.”
Jessica had to stop reading for a few moments and wipe a few tears off. She knew her father had something to do with it. She knew Karl loved her and wouldn’t have done it otherwise. It didn’t change anything, but it soothed that old ache that never went away. Karl was right to leave. Her father never made threats he wasn’t serious about and didn’t take “no” for an answer. She focused on the letter again and continued reading.
“I never married nor had children. You were the love of my life, and I wanted nothing else. I hope this letter finds you well. I’m leaving my phone number, and there’s my address, so you can write me back if you want. I don’t know how to use Facebook, and all that stuff kids have these days. But I hope to hear from you.
Sincerely, Karl.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Jessica’s tears kept falling for several minutes after finishing the letter, but then she laughed. She also had no idea how to use all that technology available these days. Therefore, she got up and went inside to find her stationery. It was time to write back.
For the next few months, they wrote to each other often, recounting even the smallest moments in each other’s lives. Until Karl finally called her and they stayed on the phone for hours. A year later, he moved back to Detroit, and they rekindled their lost relationship.
They were old and might not have much time together, but they were going to enjoy one another’s love for as long as they could.
What can we learn from this story?
- It’s never too late to find love again. Jessica gave up on relationships for many years until she found the love of her life again at 75.
- Tell your partner the truth. If Karl had told Jessica about her father’s threats, they could’ve run away together or dealt with it in some form. But he took off, and they would never know what could’ve been.
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 man who stole his grandmother’s money, but she got her revenge.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story 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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