
When Daniel, Sarah, and their son, Derril, move to a new city, they take some time to readjust to the new place. One positive about the move is that Derril’s school focuses on soccer, his favorite sport. Soon after, things get strange when the little boy notices his soccer coach hugging his mom…
Recently, our lives changed when my wife, Sarah, landed a promising new job. It meant uprooting our lives and moving to a new city, but we were optimistic about the future.

A woman in a business suit holding paperwork | Source: Midjourney
“We need this, Daniel,” Sarah said. “We need to plan for our future, and we also need a new start. Living here has become stale.”
“I agree,” I said. “And we need a better life for Derril.”
Our seven-year-old son, Derril, was especially excited about the move because we enrolled him in a school with a soccer club, which was the one sport that he absolutely loved.

A smiling little boy | Source: Midjourney
Sarah and I were thrilled to see him so passionate about something, especially because we knew that moving would be a big adjustment for him.
“I’m happy about the move, Dad,” he told me one day when we were buying him a new pair of soccer boots. “My old school only cared about baseball and basketball, but soccer wasn’t important.”
“I’m glad that you’re happy about this,” I told him. “I want you to be happy with this move, too. We’re not just doing it because of Mom’s new job.”

A row of children’s soccer boots in a store | Source: Midjourney
He nodded enthusiastically.
A few months passed, and I had finally gotten into the routine of working from home. Thankfully, my career in cybersecurity meant that I could keep working at the same company following the move.
But, over time, I noticed a change in my son.

A man working on his laptop | Source: Midjourney
One day, he came home from school looking troubled, his usual enthusiasm dampened. His bright eyes seemed to lose their sparkle, and he became quieter and more withdrawn.
Whenever I tried to talk to him, he would just walk away, retreating into silence.
It was unlike Derril, and it worried me.

An upset little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Something is going on with him,” I told Sarah when I was making breakfast for the three of us before the day began.
“I know,” she nodded. “I’ve been seeing that, too. Whenever I try to talk to him, he looks at me for a moment before looking away.”
“Maybe it’s just part of adjusting to a new place? And making new friends, too? Because he’s still eating and sleeping as normal. So, until that changes, I think we’re okay,” I said.

A man in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
But then the tipping point came one day when I walked into his room after school and found him crying.
Just looking at him devastated me.
“Derril, what’s wrong?” I asked gently, sitting beside him on the bed. “I need you to tell me everything. Enough time has passed, and I know you’re not okay.”

A crying little boy | Source: Midjourney
He looked up at me, tears brimming in his eyes, and took a deep, shaky breath.
“I don’t want Mr. Sanders to be my father!” he blurted out.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
Mr. Sanders was his new soccer coach, and he was someone whom Derril had admired up until now.

A soccer coach holding a tablet | Source: Midjourney
“Why would he become your father, Derril?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and calm.
My son’s voice wavered as he explained.
“Yesterday, when Mom was picking me up from practice, he hugged her. And she didn’t push him away!”

Children playing soccer | Source: Midjourney
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
Sarah had been distant lately, but I always chalked it up to her being busy with her new job. I knew that it was going to be a rocky few months while we all adjusted. But at the same time, she seemed preoccupied, often lost in thought.
This, however, was something I couldn’t ignore.

A close-up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney
Determined to uncover the truth, I logged off work early the next day and drove to the soccer field. Sarah usually fetched Derril from practice on her way home.
I parked far enough away to watch without being seen. I needed to know what was happening. I needed to know if Sarah and Mr. Sanders were romantically involved with each other.
As practice ended and the kids dispersed, I saw Sarah arrive. Moments later, Mr. Sanders approached her. They talked briefly, and then he placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning in close.

A man sitting in his car | Source: Midjourney
“They look way too comfortable,” I muttered to myself.
I watched as Sarah smiled but stepped back, looking around nervously, her eyes scanning the area as if she felt someone was watching.
“Yes, someone is watching,” I said to the car.

A woman standing outside while at soccer practice | Source: Midjourney
That night, I confronted my wife. I couldn’t take it any longer. I had made dinner and sat through the entire meal with doubts flooding my mind.
“Sarah, what’s going on with you and Mr. Sanders?” I asked straightforwardly.
Her face turned pale, and she took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“There’s nothing going on, Daniel,” she said. “I swear! He’s just been supportive, that’s all!”
“Supportive how? Derril thinks that he’s trying to replace me,” I pressed on. “I need to know why.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
“What? No! That’s not true! He’s been helping me with something else… something that I haven’t told you about yet.”
She sat me down, her voice trembling as she revealed a secret she’d been keeping.
“I can’t believe this,” I exclaimed, wondering why on earth I agreed to the move.

A couple talking | Source: Midjourney
Apparently, Mr. Sanders had recognized a man from his past. A man who had ran in the same circles as him when he was off the rails and took part in unscrupulous activities.
“And not just any man, Daniel,” Sarah said. “He’s dangerous. And he has a history of stalking and violence. Mr. Sanders said that he has been keeping an eye on him, and he noticed that the man has been stalking me.”
“What?! Why didn’t you tell me? This is something for the police to handle!”

A man hiding in the shadows | Source: Midjourney
But my wife shook her head.
“Mr. Sanders has been trying to keep Derril and me safe. Because he noticed the man watching me during a few practice sessions.”
I put my head in my hands. Suddenly, the world felt too heavy for me. What dramatic television show had our lives become?

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“Mr. Sanders suggested not pushing him away too obviously to avoid raising suspicion. I should have told you, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“We need to speak to him,” I said. “To Mr. Sanders. I need to hear this from him.”
Sarah nodded, her eyes shining with tears.
When we met with him, he corroborated Sarah’s account, showing us evidence of the man’s criminal activities.

A couple talking | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve spoken to one of my detective friends,” he said. “They can’t do anything about this guy until something actually happens. So, I’ve been trying to keep an eye on Sarah and Derril. And the house.”
I had no idea what to say.

A close-up of a man | Source: Midjourney
That night, Sarah and I sat down in the living room, trying to discuss the next steps and how to secure our home. Moments later, Derril burst into our room, his face frozen in shock.
“There’s someone outside my window!” he shrieked.
“Phone the police,” I told Sarah.

A person looking out of a room window | Source: Midjourney
I rushed to his room, picking up the baseball bat that we displayed in the hallway. And sure enough, a shadowy figure was lurking near the tree not too far from Derril’s window.
Moments later, we heard sirens and saw the flashing lights of police cars. They arrived swiftly, surrounding the house and apprehending the man.
The officers confirmed that the lurker was indeed the man that Mr. Sanders had warned us about, and now, because he was caught, he was taken into custody.

Two police officers | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so sorry for the confusion or distress I caused,” Mr. Sanders said when he visited us the next day.
He brought a box of pastries that Derril dug into immediately.
“The thing is, I know his type. When I met him before, he would find a young successful woman and fixate on her. When I saw him at soccer practice, I knew that he was after Sarah.

A box of desserts | Source: Midjourney
“How do you know him?” I asked.
“I had a rough past, too,” Mr. Sanders said. “But I just got caught up with the wrong crowd. I didn’t do anything to this extent.”
We thanked Mr. Sanders for his help, and he left our home.

A man walking down a driveway | Source: Midjourney
Now that the threat was removed, Sarah and Derril seemed perfectly fine. But I still didn’t feel good about this. As grateful as I was to Mr. Sanders, there was something that just didn’t feel right about anything.
I wanted to leave. I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t want to stay here. I didn’t want my wife and child around Mr. Sanders.

A man looking out a window | Source: Midjourney
I Walked Out on My Wife at a Restaurant During Our 10th Anniversary – Her Mother Advised Me to Seek a Divorce After Learning the Reason

“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?
Leave a Reply