A woman, thrilled to have just landed a job at a major company, was leaving the office when she noticed a hungry old woman on the street, who pleaded:
— Honey, please buy this little trinket from me. It would mean I could eat tonight.
Taking pity, the woman bought the old lady a meal instead. But as she left, the old woman whispered urgently:
— Quit that job tomorrow. But before you do, you need to do one more thing.
Sarah Lawson had been married to Stephen for eight years. For all that time, she had blindly trusted her husband, who, as she would soon learn, had been cheating on her since their wedding day. The discovery came out of nowhere, and her entire world turned upside down.
Sarah was stocking shelves with new inventory when her eyes fell on the clock. Stephen had promised to stop by after meeting with suppliers, but he never showed. It was a familiar pattern. He was always late, blaming it on important meetings or traffic.
She ran her hand over a cardboard box, checking the label. Folders, pens, notepads—everything they’d ordered this week. Their office supply and shipping store was their shared dream, the result of eight years of marriage and two years of relentless hard work. Stephen handled suppliers and wholesale accounts, while Sarah managed the storefront and dealt with customers.
“Three more boxes,” she muttered, slicing through the tape with a box cutter. “And then I can lock up.”
The chime of the front door made her jump. Sarah turned, forcing a polite smile.
“Good evening. I’m sorry, we’re actually closed,” she said, trying to remember if she’d flipped the sign on the door.
A woman in her fifties walked in. She wore a plain coat and a scarf over her hair, her face etched with deep lines of exhaustion. She stopped just inside the door, clutching a worn handbag.
“I know. This is a personal matter,” the woman said, her voice strained as if the words were hard to find.
Sarah put the cutter down and stood up straight, a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest.
“Personal?” she asked.
The woman took a few steps closer. Her gaze was heavy and direct.
“You’re Sarah, right? Stephen’s wife?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Sarah nodded, her eyes fixed on the stranger.
“Yes, I am. Who are you?” she swallowed hard. “Has something happened to my husband?”
Her mind raced. An accident? The hospital? Stephen could be in trouble. But why would this woman be telling her, and not the police?
The woman shook her head, her lips trembling.
“No, nothing’s happened to him. Except that my twenty-year-old daughter is pregnant with his child.”
Silence. A crushing, deafening silence. Sarah could hear a car pass by outside, could hear the sharp, ragged sound of her own breathing.
“What?” She could barely force the word out. “That’s impossible.”
“Oh, it’s very possible.”
The woman stepped closer, and Sarah could see the tears welling in her eyes.
“First, that scoundrel had an affair with my older daughter, who was a waitress at your wedding. He cheated on you with her that very day. Right in the middle of your reception.”
Sarah felt the floor drop out from under her. Her wedding. Eight years ago. The happiest day of her life. The white dress, the flowers, the smiling guests. And Stephen, whispering in her ear how much he loved her.
“That can’t be,” she repeated, grabbing the edge of a table for support. “You’re… you’re mistaken. Stephen wouldn’t.”
“He would!” the woman’s voice cracked. “My Kate was only eighteen then. Eighteen! He took her into a supply closet while you and your guests were dancing. And then he just vanished from her life. She cried for months, but I thought it was over. I thought he was gone for good.”
Sarah sank into a chair, unable to stand. Her hands were shaking.
“And then,” the woman continued, wiping her tears, “six years later, he moved on to my younger daughter. My Maria. She was nineteen when they met. He told her he was going to get a divorce. That he only loved her.”
“And now? What now?” Sarah whispered.
“Now she’s four months pregnant.”
The woman pulled a crumpled envelope from her bag and threw it on the table.
“Here are the test results. He refuses to acknowledge the baby. Says it’s not his problem. My Maria is alone, with no job, no money. And he…”
Sarah stared at the envelope, unable to touch it.
“I didn’t know,” she managed to say. “I swear, I didn’t know anything.”
“I believe you,” the woman said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her coat. “That’s why I came to you. Please, divorce him. It’s his child. Maria can’t do this alone. She’s scared to have a baby by herself. We can’t afford it. I don’t make enough money.”
“Leave,” Sarah said quietly. “Please, just leave.”
“But…”
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