When James, my husband, started leaving the house in a rush, I was sure something sinister was happening. He did this several times without a clear explanation. His strange behavior had me thinking he might be ch_eating, as he refused to tell me the real truth. When I finally found out the truth of what he was doing, I was shaken to my core!
For ten years of our marriage, I thought I knew everything about him. But MAN, was I mistaken! What I believed I knew about him was that he was driven and successful. He always seemed so tough, almost impenetrable
For all the time James and I had been together, I’d never seen him cry! But I never doubted his love for me; I could simply feel it in his actions, even if he didn’t say it often. That was until the last few months when things started to change.
My husband began acting differently. He was rarely home, spent no time with the children, and every time his phone rang, he would immediately leave.
When I confronted him about the calls and the rushed departures, he made a claim I couldn’t fathom. “It’s urgent office work, my love.” I didn’t believe him at all, mainly due to the next thing I am about to share.
What had me doubting him was the oddest part of all this. My husband would come back home and IMMEDIATELY throw his clothes in the washing machine! His clothes were washed even if he’d only worn them that day for roughly an hour!
After that, James would take a shower, no matter how briefly he’d been gone. It was perplexing and, frankly, worrisome! No matter how I tried to get him to tell me the truth about what he was actually doing, James would stick to the work excuse.
I once snuck to the washing machine during his shower time. Doing my own investigations I pulled out his clothes to smell them for women’s perfume. Instead, I was hit with a stench I couldn’t explain! His clothes smelled PUTRID!
That evening, after my husband left in a hurry once again, I made a decision that I couldn’t take it anymore and was fed up. I needed to know what was going on! I grabbed my coat and tracked him down, following him to his destination.
My heart pounded as I trailed his car through the winding streets. He finally came to a halt when he parked in front of an old, run-down building on the edge of town.
I even wondered whether it was safe to go in or not and hesitated for a while before summoning the courage to enter. But what I witnessed inside left me SPEECHLESS!
I saw him with a bunch of people and they were doing something I couldn’t even comprehend as I stood there with my mouth open. James, my stoic, seemingly indifferent husband, was there in an APRON! MY man was serving food to a group of homeless people!
He was smiling, chatting, and laughing, a side of him I had NEVER seen before! It was like watching a stranger, but one who looked so much like the man I married! As if sensing my presence, James looked up, and our eyes met.
He froze, his face a mask of fear and surprise. My husband then quickly made his way over to me, taking off his apron as he walked. “Lily, I can explain,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “Please do,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
“What is all this? Why didn’t you tell me?” James took a deep breath, leading me to a quieter corner. “This is my project, the one I live for.” I watched him, waiting for the revelation that was about to change everything I thought I knew about my husband.
“I was born in poverty,” he began. “Sometimes, my family had nothing to eat. My single mom couldn’t feed me and my brother, so she gave us up for adoption,” James said. “We were taken in by a wealthy family who gave us everything we needed.”
I was shocked that I’d never known this about him. “But there was a catch. My new dad was strict; he believed in toughness and never showing vulnerability,” my husband continued. “I had to bury my soft side deep inside just to survive in that house because my adopted father forbade me from showing it.”
“He’s the one who taught me to be tough and determined, hence my work ethic.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened. This was a side of James I never knew, a past he had never shared. “So, you started this to show your true self?” I asked, my voice breaking.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pain and relief. “When I became successful, I realized I needed to find a way to express my soft side somewhere. I wanted to give back somehow.”
“I wanted to help people who are in the same position I once was.”
“So, I started this shelter, this kitchen, as my way of giving back and being true to who I am. It’s a part of me I’ve hidden for so long.” He explained how he started feeding poor and homeless people and sheltering them too.
What he did hit me hard, the weight of his hidden life pressing down on me. I understood now why he had been so secretive, why he NEEDED this outlet. It wasn’t just about work; it was about redemption and compassion.
I took his hand in mine. “James, you should have told me. We could have done this together.” He squeezed my hand, a tear slipping down his cheek. At that moment, I fell deeper in love with him, realizing that he was human too.
I saw a side of him that made me see that he was a multifaceted being. “I was scared, Lily. Scared of what you might think, scared of appearing weak.”
“You’re not weak, my darling,” I said firmly. “Showing your soft side, helping these people, that’s the STRONGEST thing you can do!”
Since then, our relationship changed. I finally understood why he was secretive and washed his clothes after every trip. I joined James in his mission. I started volunteering at the shelter and bringing the children along too.
They learned the value of kindness and humility, and at the same time saw their father in a new light! We grew closer than ever, united by his hidden passion and newfound openness. My husband showed me that true strength lies in being able to show your vulnerability.
I also learned through him that inner strength lay in giving WITHOUT expecting anything in return. The act of giving was a gift of its own. Our family became stronger, bound by love. We were united by his formerly hidden compassion, newfound openness, and a shared commitment to helping others.
Luckily for Lily, her husband wasn’t doing anything wrong on his random trips.
Woman Arrives at the Farm She Inherited from Her Grandfather to Sell It, but a Farmhand Stands in Her Way — Story of the Day
Rebecca arrives at the farm she inherited, ready to sell it and move on. But a stubborn farmhand refuses to let her make an easy sale. He challenges her at every turn, forcing her to confront not just him but the memories and responsibilities she thought she left behind. Their clash will decide the farm’s fate.
Early in the morning, Rebecca got into her car, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. This wasn’t part of her usual routine, but something unexpected had come up, and she had to deal with it.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Leaving her small business in the hands of her assistant, she set off on a long drive, heading out of the busy city.
Rebecca was on her way to her late grandfather’s farm, which he had left to her in his will. She hadn’t been there in years. As a child, she spent summers there, running around and playing, but once she grew older her visits stopped.
Rebecca always assumed her grandfather would pass the farm on to one of his workers, someone who truly needed it. Now, she had no intention of running it herself. Her plan was simple—check things out, find a buyer, and sell it as quickly as possible.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca parked near the farmhouse and stepped out, glancing around. As she turned, she noticed a man on the porch. He stood up quickly, smiling.
“Hey there,” he said. “You must be my new boss. I’m Derek.” He stepped forward, offering his hand.
Rebecca shook it, frowning slightly. Something about him seemed familiar. “Hi, Derek. But you’ve got it wrong. I’m not your boss.”
Derek tilted his head. “Well then, may I at least know the name of my non-boss?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh,” Rebecca said, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself. “I’m Rebecca.”
“Wait a minute. Are you the same Rebecca who let all the chickens out so the dog could have fun?” He chuckled.
Rebecca’s eyes widened as the memory came back. Derek was the son of one of her grandfather’s workers, and they used to play together when she was little. “And you’re the same Derek who taught me to chase them with a slingshot?”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. They both laughed, easing the tension.
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Derek’s expression grew serious. “So, what do you mean you’re not my boss? The farm was left to you, right?”
Rebecca’s smile faded. “Yes, but I don’t plan to keep it. I’m here to sell it.”
“What? Sell it? To who?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said, shrugging. “Whoever wants to buy it.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Even if they tear it down?” he asked.
“Well… yes.”
Derek stepped closer, his voice rising. “How could you do that? Your grandfather spent his life on this farm! It was everything to him.”
Rebecca felt a pang of guilt but tried to stand her ground. “He’s gone, Derek. And I have my own life. Being a farmer wasn’t part of my plan.”
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Derek’s eyes searched hers. “What about the animals? The people who work here? You’re just going to let them lose everything?”
She hesitated. “The new owner will handle that.”
Derek’s face darkened. “You don’t care at all, do you?”
“I care. It’s just… not my responsibility anymore,” she said quietly, turning to walk toward the house.
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Derek’s voice followed her. “You heartless witch!”
Rebecca winced but didn’t turn back. She quickened her pace, heading inside, trying to ignore the doubts his words stirred.
The next morning, Rebecca was startled awake by a knock on her door. She groggily got up and opened it to find a man standing on the porch.
“Good morning, Rebecca,” he said, nodding politely. “I’m Travis. I manage the fields here. Something’s happened, and I think you’ll want to see it.”
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Rebecca rubbed her eyes. “Morning. Just give me a moment to get dressed.”
She quickly threw on the first clothes she found, then followed Travis outside. They walked through the farm until they reached one of the main fields. Rebecca’s heart sank when she saw the crops. They looked weak, wilted, and sickly.
“What’s wrong with them?” she asked.
Travis sighed, his expression grim. “Hard to say. Maybe someone spread something to damage them. Could be competitors. But if we don’t act fast, we’ll lose the entire crop.”
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Rebecca’s face tightened. “I don’t care. I’m selling the farm. That’s my plan.”
Travis glanced at her. “You’d get a lot more money if you sold it as a working farm. Not just land.”
Rebecca knew he had a point. She hesitated, then asked, “So, what do you need from me?”
“I need an extra worker. One of our guys is out sick, and we don’t have enough hands,” Travis explained.
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“Alright,” Rebecca said. “I’ll find someone to help.”
Rebecca spent the entire day making phone calls, trying to find someone to hire. She went through a long list of contacts, but every answer was the same—nobody was available.
By evening, she was exhausted, her energy completely drained. She felt like a squeezed lemon, with nothing left to give.
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Tired and frustrated, Rebecca found herself wandering toward the stables. She remembered how, as a child, she would sit there for hours, surrounded by the soft sounds of the horses.
It always calmed her. She gently petted their noses, fed them some hay, and felt a wave of comfort wash over her. She sighed, thinking, who would have imagined this farm could bring her so many problems?
“Oh, I didn’t know princesses visited stables,” Derek said, his tone icy as he stepped inside.
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Rebecca turned, frowning. “What’s with the attitude?”
Derek folded his arms. “How else should I talk to someone who doesn’t care?”
“For your information, I spent all day trying to find a worker for Travis,” she snapped. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself, but his accusation stung.
Derek’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “So you can sell the farm for a better price. That’s what Travis said.”
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Rebecca rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt building inside her.
“I can help Travis,” Derek said, “but I need support with the livestock. That’s my job.”
“There’s no one available to work,” she said.
Derek stepped closer, his gaze steady. “You could help.”
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Rebecca blinked, surprised. “Me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Or are your hands too soft for real work?”
“I know how to work,” she shot back. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever really known how to do.”
“Good,” Derek said, turning toward the door. “Then it’s settled.”
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Rebecca stood there, still processing, as he walked away, wondering how she’d just agreed to help.
For the next few weeks, Rebecca found herself doing things she never expected. She woke up early each morning, pulling on boots and gloves, ready to work. She helped the workers in the fields, fed the animals, and even joined them in the kitchen, cooking meals after long days.
At first, she thought it would be a struggle, but the workers were patient and kind, teaching her the tasks step by step. They treated her like part of the team, and she started to see how much they cared about the farm.
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Rebecca began to question if selling the farm was the right decision. Every night, she fell into bed exhausted, but it was a different kind of tiredness. The farm, once just a burden, was slowly becoming a place she was starting to care about.
One evening, as she walked back to the house, she spotted something unusual—small surveillance cameras mounted on poles, pointing straight at the field. Why hadn’t she noticed them before?
After asking around, she learned from Sarah, a longtime farm worker, where to access the footage. Sarah brought it to the house, and Rebecca started watching the recordings.
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She fast-forwarded until she found what she was looking for—footage of someone sneaking through the field, scattering a strange powder over the crops. The image was blurry at first, but then the figure’s face came into view. Rebecca’s heart dropped. It was Derek.
Furious, she slammed her laptop shut and stormed out of the house. Without thinking, she marched straight toward Derek’s cabin, her mind spinning.
Rebecca stormed up to Derek’s door. When he opened it, she held out her laptop, the screen showing the footage. “Care to explain this?!” she snapped.
Derek sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I was trying to delay the sale,” he said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“So you decided to destroy the farm?!” Rebecca yelled, her voice shaking.
“I didn’t destroy it,” Derek replied. “I slowed things down. It worked. I know you’ve started to care.”
“You can’t just do that, Derek! People had to work harder because of you!” she shouted.
“I thought you didn’t care about the people here,” he said. “I wanted to make you see what this farm means.”
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Rebecca felt a sting in his words, but she refused to back down. “But you messed up! I don’t care! That’s why I’m selling it—to the first buyer who shows up!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she turned and stormed away, leaving Derek standing there.
Two days later, two businessmen arrived at the farm. Rebecca greeted them with a polite smile and led them on a tour, showing them the fields, the barns, and the house. She kept her tone professional, trying to stay detached.
After the tour, Ryan, one of the men, said, “We’re ready to buy it.”
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Rebecca felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “Great! When can we sign the contract?” she asked.
“Right now,” said the other man, Tom. “We brought our lawyer with us.”
Rebecca nodded and led them inside. They sat at the dining table, and the lawyer set the papers down. She picked up the pen, but her hand froze. Something didn’t feel right. “You’re buying the farm to run it, right?” she asked.
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“Not exactly,” Ryan replied. “We plan to build a factory here. Is that a problem?”
Rebecca’s stomach twisted. She hesitated, but forced a smile. “No, no problem.” Her eyes drifted to the wall. A childhood photo of her and her grandfather hung there—she was feeding a calf, smiling wide. She took a deep breath, pushing the papers closer. Slowly, she prepared to sign.
After fifteen minutes, Rebecca walked Ryan, Tom, and their lawyer out of the house. She spotted Derek sitting under a tree, watching. Tom shook her hand. “Well, good luck,” he said. Ryan did the same, and then they drove off.
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Derek got up and walked over. “Congratulations,” he said flatly. “The farm’s no longer your problem. How much did you sell it for?”
Rebecca looked at him. “I changed my mind.”
“What?” Derek’s eyes widened, confused.
“I’m not selling it,” she repeated.
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Derek’s frown melted into a smile. “Really?”
“Don’t get too happy,” she said, trying to stay serious. “I’m a demanding boss. My employees usually avoid me.”
Derek suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, catching her off guard. After a moment, she realized what was happening and hugged him back, feeling something warm and hopeful stir inside her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything. Read the full story here.
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