At 45, I lost everything I had. My husband betrayed me with my best friend, my boss fired me, and all the strength I had left was spent crying on the bathroom floor. That’s when I bought a one-way ticket to Argentina. The countless challenges changed my life forever.
Sitting on the cold wooden floor of my empty apartment, I felt like my whole world was literally falling apart.
How could everything have gone so wrong?
Everything I had so carefully built over the years had crumbled in an instant: my job, my friends, but most painfully, the man I loved. He betrayed me.
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How could he?! How could my best friend do this to me? Had all these years been in vain, empty?
They laughed behind my back, and I noticed nothing…
My mind couldn’t cope with that pain, with that betrayal. A dark and terrifying divorce process loomed ahead of me, like a cloud ready to burst with rain.
All those savings I had accumulated for our future would now go to lawyers, court fees, division of property.
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How did this even happen? How did I end up here, in this emptiness, alone, with no plan for the future?
Tears welled up in my throat, but I didn’t even have the strength to cry. I was too tired, too exhausted to resist this wave of despair that was crashing over me from all sides.
All my dreams, all my plans—they simply turned to dust.
And now what? Is there even a point in fighting?
Suddenly, the phone ringing pulled me out of these heavy thoughts.
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“Hello, Sophia,” my lawyer’s voice came through the line, clear and emotionless. “I’ve reviewed your case, and we need to discuss a few important details.”
The words washed over me, like he was speaking another language.
What do they all want from me? Fight? For what? Why?
I felt a strange feeling growing inside me—a desire to run away, to disappear.
“Sophia, are you listening?” My lawyer’s voice snapped me back to reality.
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“Yes, I’m listening,” I said, but I no longer had any desire to resolve anything. “Mark,” I interrupted, “I don’t want any of this anymore. Let him take whatever he wants. I don’t care.”
I could almost hear him sigh on the other end of the line, realizing there was no point in arguing with me.
“Alright, I’ll take care of it,” he finally replied.
“Thank you,” I whispered and hung up, feeling nothing.
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What now?
I couldn’t stay here, in this dead space filled with ghosts of the past. I opened my laptop and started searching for tickets.
Argentina. Far away. Very far away.
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Without hesitation, I clicked the button and bought a one-way ticket. What awaited me there, I didn’t know. But something told me it was exactly what I needed.
I had to disappear.
***
As soon as I arrived in Argentina, I made my way to the shore, drawn by the sound of the waves. I sat there, my suitcase by my side, staring out at the endless horizon.
I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the ocean calm my racing thoughts.
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What now? Where was I supposed to go from here?
Suddenly, I heard footsteps in the sand. I opened my eyes and saw a woman approaching me. She had a warm smile and kind eyes.
“Hola,” she greeted, her voice gentle. “Are you alright?”
I hesitated, then surprised myself by starting to speak.
“I’m… I don’t know. I just got here. I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
She introduced herself as Violetta and sat down beside me, listening as I told her everything.
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She didn’t interrupt, just nodded and listened, and somehow, it felt good to let it all out.
When I finished, she offered me something I hadn’t expected.
“You can stay with me for a while,” she said, her voice full of kindness. “Until you figure things out.”
I looked at her, surprised by the generosity of a stranger.
“Thank you.”
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***
The next few days, Violetta was incredibly helpful, showing me around and helping me get settled into my new life. With her help, I found a job at a small beach bar nearby.
The work was simple—serving drinks and clearing tables. But it kept my mind busy, which was exactly what I needed.
One evening, after a long day of work, I was wiping down the bar when I noticed Martín, one of the regulars, lingering nearby.
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He had a warm, friendly smile that made him instantly likable. He approached me with that same easygoing manner I had come to recognize.
“Hey, Sophia,” he said, leaning casually against the bar. “You’re doing a great job here. Everyone’s been talking about how quickly you’ve settled in.”
I smiled, feeling a bit of pride. “Thanks, Martín. It’s been a nice distraction, you know?”
“Sometimes that’s all you need.”
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We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the waves in the distance. Then, Martín’s eyes lit up as if he had just thought of something.
“Have you ever tried tango?” he asked.
“Tango? No, I haven’t. I’m not much of a dancer, honestly.”
“Well, you’re in Argentina now, so you have to give it a try at least once. How about I teach you? Right here, right now.”
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I hesitated, feeling a bit shy. “I’m not sure I’d be any good at it.”
He chuckled, waving off my concern.
“No worries! It’s not about being good! It’s about feeling the music, letting go, and having fun. Come on, it’ll be just us.”
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His enthusiasm was infectious, and before I knew it, I was nodding.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
Martín led me to a small clearing just outside the bar, where the sand met the pavement. The evening was warm, the sky painted in shades of pink and orange as the sun set over the ocean.
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“Okay, first things first,” he said, taking my hand gently. “Just relax and follow my lead. Tango is all about connection, so just feel the rhythm and trust me.”
He began to move slowly, guiding me through the basic steps. His hand was steady on my back.
“See? You’re doing great.”
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“This is actually… fun.”
Martín laughed, spinning me gently before pulling me back in. “Told you! And you’re a natural.”
As I caught my breath, my eyes wandered back towards the bar, and that’s when I saw her. Violetta was standing in the doorway, watching us.
She looked… cold, almost disapproving.
It was the first time I had seen her so unfriendly, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone wrong.
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***
My days in Argentina felt like a step toward healing.
The rhythm of the tango, the warmth of the sun, and the simple routine of work helped me feel like life was slowly returning to me.
However, something else started to shift.
Violetta, who had been so kind and welcoming when I first arrived, began to change. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I felt a growing distance between us.
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One night, I returned home late. But as I approached the house, I noticed something that made my heart drop—my belongings were scattered outside the door.
I knocked, hoping there was some kind of mistake. But when Violetta opened the door, her expression was icy.
“You need to leave,” she said without any explanation.
“Violetta, what’s going on? Why are you doing this?”
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“I’ve seen how you are with Martín. I can’t have you here anymore.”
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. She saw me as a rival, someone who might take Martín’s attention away from her.
Without another word, she closed the door.
I spent that night on the beach, the waves crashing softly in the background as I lay on the sand, feeling the familiar sting of betrayal.
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First my husband, now Violetta. It seemed like I was destined to be abandoned by those I trusted.
The next morning, I went to the bar, hoping for some solace in work, only to be told by the manager that my services were no longer needed.
It felt like my world was crumbling all over again.
With no other options, I knew I had to let go of the past completely.
I gathered all my jewelry and designer dresses—the last remnants of my old life—and took them to the local market. Selling them brought in enough money to start over.
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With the money I earned, I rented a small piece of land from an old man on the other side of the island. I wanted to be as far away as possible from Martín, from the bar, from everything that reminded me of my recent pain.
As I handed over the money to the old man, he studied me with a thoughtful expression.
“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I have. That’s why I’m here. I just want to start over, away from everything.”
He smiled gently, nodding as if he already knew my story.
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“This land will give you what you need, but you must give it something in return. It’s not just about planting crops; it’s about planting yourself and letting your roots grow deep. Are you ready for that?”
I looked around at the small plot of land. There were no distractions, no memories of what had been. Just a blank canvas.
The old man motioned for me to follow him. We walked across the land, and he pointed out different spots where the soil was rich, and where the sun hit just right.
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“Here,” he said, stopping near a huge tree-shaded area.
“This is where you’ll meditate. It’s important to find stillness, to listen to the land and yourself.”
I frowned slightly, not used to such concepts.
“Meditate? I’ve never really done that before.”
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He chuckled, a sound like the rustling of leaves.
“It’s not about doing it right or wrong. It’s about being present. Sit here every day, close your eyes, and breathe. Let go of your thoughts and your worries. You’ll find that the answers you seek are already within you.”
“Do you think that will help me? I mean, after everything…”
The old man turned to me.
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“You’ve been uprooted, yes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t grow again. Trust in yourself, trust in this land. It will heal you, just as you will care for it.”
“I’ll try.”
The old man nodded, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “That’s all you need to do. Just try. The rest will come in time.”
As I started working on the land, following his advice, I began to find a certain peace in the routine. Each day, I spent time meditating in the shaded spot he had shown me, letting the quiet settle into my soul.
But this peace was shattered all too soon.
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***
The old man fell ill quite suddenly. His strength, which once seemed unbreakable, began to fade before my eyes.
I spent many hours by his side, holding his hand and offering what comfort I could. But deep down, I knew that his time was drawing near.
One evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, he called me by name. His voice was weak.
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“Sophia, I have something for you.”
He handed me a letter, his hand trembling slightly.
“Read this after I’m gone. It’s my final gift to you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. “For everything.”
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He gave me a small, tired smile.
“You’ve given me more than you know,” he replied, squeezing my hand gently. “Now, it’s time for you to continue the journey on your own.”
That night, he passed away peacefully in his sleep. The loss hit me hard, leaving an emptiness.
After the funeral, I sat in the quiet of my small home, holding the letter he had given me.
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The letter was brief, but every word carried the weight of his wisdom.
“You are ready not only to receive knowledge and wisdom but also to pass them onto others. Remember the old legend of our people: The soul, like a seed, only blooms when watered with love and faith. True happiness comes when you are ready to plant that seed in someone else’s soil and watch it grow.”
That was a call to live, truly live, with an open heart.
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***
As dawn approached, I woke up with a strange yet powerful feeling that I needed to do something important. It was a call of my heart I couldn’t ignore. I walked to the ocean, the place I used to share with Martin.
When I reached the shore, I saw Martín standing there, his silhouette outlined by the first rays of the sun.
We didn’t exchange a single word. None were needed.
We simply stood there, looking at each other, connected by an unspoken understanding.
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Then, without thinking, we began to dance. The rhythm of the waves became our music, the soft sand beneath our feet on the dance floor.
As the sun rose higher, I found a profound sense of peace—one that wasn’t tied to anyone else’s approval or expectations.
No longer was I afraid of being judged or of making others uncomfortable. This inner calm opened a new path before me, one where I could step forward without hesitation or fear.
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‘She’s on My Maintenance, I’ll Kick Her Out If She’s Not Obedient,’ My Husband Said About Me during His Celebration
When Abby loses her job, she seeks comfort in her husband, Gregor, to keep them afloat until she finds another. But while Abby assumes that Gregor will be supportive, she finds out how he really feels when they celebrate his birthday surrounded by their closest people…
I’m not usually one to share my life online, but after what happened recently, I figured my story should be shared. Let me tell you all about the time my husband tried to humiliate me in front of his friends and how I turned the tables on him in the most satisfying way.
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I met Gregor when I was in my forties. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and the marriage dream had died a long time ago for me.
“Come on, Abby,” my mother said. “It’s never too late to find someone. Don’t you just want to be married and settle down?”
I shook my head.
In reality, I did want that, but after a toxic relationship in my thirties, I was done thinking about it all. I didn’t want that anymore.
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But then, I met Gregor and we hit it off right away. He was charming, thoughtful, and genuinely seemed to care about me.
“I’ve waited my entire life for you, Abby,” Gregor said when he showed up at my house with a bouquet of roses and an engagement ring tucked away in his palm.
Our first year of marriage felt like one long honeymoon. We traveled together, laughed together non-stop, and truly enjoyed each other’s company.
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It seemed that we just belonged together.
Gregor was successful in his career, working as an executive at a well-known firm, while I was also doing well in my own career. I worked for a marketing company and I really loved my job.
Life was good, and I felt like I had it all.
A smiling couple in their forties | Source: Midjourney
“I told you, Abby,” my mother said one day when I went to visit her with ingredients to make dumplings.
“I know,” I chuckled. “I should have listened. But I’m happy now, and I think I finally got it right.”
“It’s all going to be fine,” my mother said. “As long as you’re happy.”
A plate of dumplings | Source: Midjourney
But then life threw a curveball.
The company I worked for went bankrupt, and just like that, I was out of a job.
It was a blow, not just financially, but also to my confidence. I was good at my job, but there was just something about being unable to do it that made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
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“It’s going to be okay,” I told myself as I sat at my desk for the last time. We had all been called in to pack up our belongings and just say goodbye.
But deep down, I knew that although I prided myself on my independence and hated the idea of being reliant on anyone, Gregor was still there.
When I broke the news to Gregor, he seemed supportive at first. But it didn’t take long for his true feelings to surface.
An upset woman sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney
“What? Now, I’m going to be the breadwinner at home? The only breadwinner?” he asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“It’s just for now,” I said. “I’m going to start the job hunt as soon as possible. But until I get back onto my feet, it’s going to be you running the home. Okay?”
“Well, it’s not like I have a choice, right?” he said, rolling his eyes.
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“It’s not for long,” I promised. “Just give me a few weeks and I’ll have another job ready to go.”
I had to admit, I was taken aback by his reaction, but understood his concern. I quickly started job hunting, determined to find something else.
I sat down at my laptop and stared at the screen until the words blurred.
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“Come on, Abby,” I told myself. “You need to find something. You just need the world to give you a break, that’s all.”
While I was searching, I took a temporary job as a cleaner in a nearby restaurant. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest work, and it helped keep us afloat.
“At least your boss is happy to give us food,” Gregor said one evening as I unwrapped leftover steak and veggies from the restaurant.
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“Yes, the manager would rather have food sent home for our families to enjoy rather than just throw it out,” I said, cutting my steak.
“It’s good food,” Gregor said. “But at the same time, it’s not a good job for you. Our family and friends are used to seeing you with your nails and hair done, wearing high heels and fancy outfits. Not black slacks and an apron, Abby.”
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“I know that,” I said. “But it’s not like I’ve settled for the job. I’m still actively looking for another job. This is to keep us going until then.”
Gregor grunted and continued to eat.
For a moment, I had no idea who my husband was. But this man wasn’t the one that I had married.
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Fast forward a few months to Gregor’s 45th birthday.
My husband decided to throw himself a big bash at an expensive restaurant and invited all his friends, family, and colleagues.
“So, he can complain about looking after his wife, but he’s fine with spoiling everyone else for his birthday?” my mother tutted on the phone.
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“I don’t know what else to tell you, Mom,” I said. “It’s just how he is. But I’m looking forward to this. It’s my first weekend off in a while and I just want to unwind and have fun.”
“I know, darling,” she said.
Admittedly, I was excited for the night, thinking it would be a chance for us to relax and just spend time together outside of our home.
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“Happy birthday, my love,” I said to Gregor when we got to the restaurant.
I had called ahead and asked for them to set up black and silver balloons around the table Gregor had reserved.
The night started off well, with good food, laughter, and drinks flowing freely. As the evening went on, tipsy people began to make toasts.
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First, was Gregor’s sister, Natalia.
“You’re lucky to have Abby in your life, brother,” she said, holding two glasses of champagne. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
I felt touched by her words and smiled, feeling appreciated.
Gregor’s friend, Tim, went next, talking about the joys of having Gregor in the office next door.
A woman holding two glasses of champagne | Source: Midjourney
Finally, it was Gregor’s turn to speak.
He stood up, his glass of champagne in hand, and began laughing before he even said a word.
“Oh, I know I’m lucky, Nat,” he said. “But let’s be real, Abby is lucky too! She’s basically my dependent now. I’d have kicked her out a long time ago if she wasn’t so obedient. It’s just a pity I invested all that money in her over the years.”
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Gregor hiccupped and reached for a piece of shrimp from his plate.
The table fell silent, and my insides twisted more than they ever had. Embarrassed wasn’t enough to describe how I felt.
He was laughing, expecting everyone else to join in. Some people chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to do, but most people looked around uncomfortably.
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Gregor took another piece of shrimp before he dissolved into laughter for a while.
“Come on guys, that was a killer joke!” he bellowed in between laughing.
But then, as I sat there, something clicked inside me.
I decided I wasn’t going to let him get away with this behavior. This was toxic behavior.
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I wasn’t going to allow that back into my life.
Calmly, I stood up and took a deep breath.
“Well, Gregor,” I said. “It seems like you’re forgetting a few things. But let me remind you and everyone else about some investments I’ve made.”
All eyes were on me as I spoke, and Gregor’s smug smile slowly faded away.
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“You see,” I started. “While you’ve been investing in me, you’ve also been busy investing. The money you used to fund this luxurious celebration didn’t come from your account.”
Gasps erupted around the room.
“I saw the notification,” I said. “You took it from my savings fund. You don’t believe me? I can pull up the statement on my phone right now…”
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“No…” Gregor said.
“I was willing to overlook this because we were a team, but it seems that we’re not. I know that you only took out the money to reserve this place, and that the rest of the bill needs to be paid when we leave here. Correct?”
Gregor nodded slowly.
“Correct,” he muttered.
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“And I have the money with me, right in my purse,” I said. “I wanted you to have a good birthday, and I didn’t want you to pay for your own birthday dinner.”
I looked around the table, seeing the realization dawn on everyone’s faces.
“But do you know what? I think I’ll just keep it, along with my dignity.”
With that, I calmly walked off the stage and out of the restaurant.
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I don’t know how Gregor paid for the dinner, but I didn’t care. Instead, I went home and packed as much of my clothes as my car would allow, and I drove to my mother’s place.
I wasn’t going to stay in a toxic relationship again.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Downstairs Neighbor Asked Me to Be Quieter at Night, but I Have Not Been Home for the past Week
When Piper returns from a trip with her friends, she cannot wait to get home to her husband. But as she unpacks her car, a neighbor approaches her, complaining about the noise from her apartment. If Piper wasn’t home, who was Matthew entertaining in her absence?
I had just returned from a blissful week-long camping trip with my friends. It was all about us taking time away from our lives and enjoying being away from the city.
My husband, Matthew, had stayed behind, claiming that he needed to stay at home.
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“I have to be home, Piper,” he said when I was packing my bags. “It’s just work responsibilities. There are meetings and presentations coming up.”
“Are you sure?” I asked him. “Why don’t you come along, and then we can find you a place to work in between it all?”
Matthew smiled at me and sat down on the bed.
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“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “You go and join the others and have fun. You need some time away from this place.”
He continued to persuade me to go on the trip, and eventually, I gave in.
A smiling man | 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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