It was a bright, chilly morning in October—the day Harry had been eagerly waiting for. After six long months of working tirelessly, his new gaming app was finally ready for presentation. If everything went well, he would get the promotion of his dreams and a six-figure salary. Nothing was going to ruin this day for him.
The clock struck eight as Harry walked into the dining room, eyes glued to his phone. His wife, Sara, and their two little boys, Cody and Sonny, were already at the table having breakfast.
“Morning, honey,” Sara greeted.
“Good morning, Daddy!” the boys chirped in unison.
But Harry barely acknowledged them. He grabbed a piece of toast, lost in thoughts about his big meeting, and hurried back to his room.
A moment later, his voice boomed from the bedroom. “Sara, where’s my white shirt?”
“I just put it in the wash with all the whites,” she replied.
Harry stormed back into the dining room, frustration flashing across his face. “You put it in the wash? Sara, I asked you three days ago! That’s my lucky shirt! I needed it for today’s meeting!”
Sara sighed. “Harry, calm down. You have plenty of white shirts. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? You just don’t get it, do you? Why can’t you ever do anything right?”
“Harry, stop yelling. The kids—”
“And what do you do all day, Sara?” he interrupted, his voice laced with irritation. “Nothing! Just sitting around, chatting with that friend of yours in the apartment below. Gossiping! Blah, blah, blah! What exactly do you even contribute?”
Sara’s face flushed with anger. “You think I do nothing? I take care of our home, our kids, everything! While you work on your ‘big projects,’ I’m the one making sure this family runs!”
“Oh please, spare me. If you can’t even remember to wash one shirt, how hard can your job really be?”
That was the last straw. Sara pushed her chair back and got up. “You know what, Harry? I’m done listening to your nonsense. Go to work. Have a great day. I really don’t care.”
Harry rolled his eyes, threw on a different suit, grabbed his briefcase, and stormed out.
Harry’s presentation went perfectly. His boss, Mr. Adams, shook his hand and grinned. “That was one hell of a presentation, Harry. Congratulations!”
Harry was overjoyed. His hard work had finally paid off. He was now a senior developer with a hefty raise. As he drove home, he expected Sara’s usual apology call or text, maybe a cute voice message with heart emojis. But today, there was nothing.
“Still mad, huh?” he chuckled, stopping by a florist to pick up white roses—her favorite. He was sure this would smooth things over.
“Honey, I’m home!” Harry called as he entered the apartment. Silence. The place felt eerily empty.
“Sara? Cody? Sonny?”
No response.
Frowning, Harry walked around the house. The boys’ toys were untouched, and Sara’s phone wasn’t on the counter where she usually left it. Then his eyes fell on a note placed on the coffee table.
His hands trembled as he picked it up.
“I want a divorce.”
Harry’s knees buckled as he collapsed onto the couch. His mind raced. Divorce? This had to be a joke. He grabbed his phone and called Sara. No answer. Panic set in.
He dialed Zara, Sara’s sister. “Zara! Where’s Sara? She left this note and—”
“She’s in the hospital, Harry.”
Harry’s heart dropped. “The hospital? What happened?”
The line went silent.
Harry didn’t wait. He bolted out the door, hailed a cab, and threw money at the driver to hurry.
At the hospital, Zara was waiting. “What happened? Is she okay?” Harry asked breathlessly.
“She had an anxiety attack, Harry. She collapsed and was rushed here.”
Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave.
Harry found the doctor. “Can I see her?”
“She’s stable now, but she needs rest. Ten minutes only,” the doctor allowed.
Harry entered the room hesitantly. Sara looked pale, weak, but her eyes held firm resolve.
“Hey,” he started. “I know I—”
“Don’t,” she cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Honey, please. I messed up, but we can fix this.”
“No, Harry. I’m done. I lost myself trying to be your ‘perfect wife.’ I gave up my dreams for this family. And all you ever did was belittle me.”
Tears pricked Harry’s eyes. “Sara, I love you.”
“No, Harry. You love your career. You love yourself. I’m leaving. And I’m taking the kids.”
A custody battle ensued. In court, Sara’s lawyer grilled Harry about his neglect, his words, his failure to appreciate Sara.
Harry’s lawyer countered, pointing out that he had been a provider, a father. “Did he ever abuse you? Withhold money?”
“No,” Sara admitted. “But he made me feel invisible.”
Harry’s heart broke at those words.
The verdict? Sara won full custody. Harry would have visitation rights and pay child support. It was a crushing blow.
On a quiet Sunday, Harry packed his boys’ things as they prepared to leave with their mother. Sonny clutched his hand. “Daddy, do we have to go? Can’t we all be together again?”
Harry forced a smile. “It’s okay, little buddy. Mommy loves you too.”
Sara stood at the door, hesitating. For the first time, she saw the pain in Harry’s eyes. Not anger. Not frustration. Just raw pain.
Cody suddenly broke free and ran to Harry. “I want Mommy and Daddy together!”
Harry sighed deeply, holding his son close.
Sara’s walls crumbled. Tears streamed down her face as she knelt beside them.
They were broken. But maybe, just maybe, there was hope.
Lesson Learned:
- Appreciate your loved ones before it’s too late.
- A strong relationship needs communication, not blame.
- No one’s contributions—whether financial or emotional—should be dismissed.
