I was at a point in my life when everything felt perfect. I had a perfect wife and a son. Sometimes, I even thought it was too good to be true—and it turned out I was right.
As I was getting ready to head to Seattle for a business meeting, hoping to seal an important deal, I planted a kiss on my wife’s cheek. She was still sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake her up.
The anxiety grew bigger, and thankfully, everything went as smooth as planned. And then, my phone buzzed. It was my wife’s father.
“Abraham…” he said in a quiet voice. “Stacey has been involved in a car accident this morning. I’m sorry, she’s gone.”
“How do you mean she’s gone!?” I asked, refusing to accept his words.
“I’m sorry,” he said once again before he hung up the phone.
My wife was gone. She was the love of my life, the mother of my child, my soulmate, and now she was gone… just like that my life shattered into a million pieces.
When I returned home, the funeral was done. Stacey’s parents believed it was for the best if I hadn’t seen her for one last time. “We wanted to protect you, Abraham,” her mom said.
All I was told was that Stacey got killed by a drunk driver. That was my closure. I didn’t even get to say the final goodbye. Her parents took that from me and from my son.
Luke kept asking about his mother, and I couldn’t gather the courage to tell him the truth.
“When is mom coming back?” he asked over and over again.
“Your mom is in heaven now,” I said through tears. “She’ll be watching over us.”
But it wasn’t enough for a child his age. He was too young to understand that his mother wasn’t coming back… ever.
A couple of months passed by and I saw Luke struggle. He missed his mom unconditionally. His little heart shattered into a million pieces with each passing day.
“Hey, champ,” I told him one day, “Let’s take a short vacation. Just the two of us.”
Luke got excited and we went on vacation the following day. I though the beach and the sun would help him feel a bit better.
We spent the days swimming and building sandcastles, but when the nights came, grief settled in our hearts over and over again.
One day, as I was sitting on a bench, contemplating life, I heard Luke yelling, “Dad, look, it’s mom.”
I looked at the direction where his little finger pointed and saw a woman resembling Stacey. She wasn’t near, so I couldn’t see her clearly, but she did look exactly like her. The same hair, the same posture, the same laugh. However, before I could reach to her, she grabbed a man’s hand and disappeared.
I felt like my mind was playing tricks on me. Of course it couldn’t be my wife. She was dead, or at least I though so.
Determined to learn what was going on, I spent the following day wandering around the resort. And then, at one moment, I saw her. She was standing right in front of me.
But before I could say anything, she looked me straight into my eyes and said, “Abraham, it’s complicated…”
I almost fainted. Not only my “dead” wife was there, but she was having a huge belly.
“Abraham, I can explain,” she said.
It turned out Stacey was having an affair and fell pregnant so she faked her own death with the help of her parents.
“I thought it was for the best,” she said, “but I miss Luke so much.”
At that moment, all the love I had for my wife turned into hatred. One thing was certain, after everything she had done, after the pain she had caused, I wouldn’t let her see our son ever again, and I made sure she knew that.
I returned to the hotel and packed out things. Once home, I contacted my lawyer, explaining everything to him.
I got a full custody of Luke and blocked Stacy’s number. I refused to have any contact with her, and as of her deceit, it was reported to the authorities.
Eventually, I was able to move on, but I could never understand how a mother can cause so much pain to her child.
Luke is now older and aware of his mom’s choices.
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Bored Daddy
Love and Peace
