Cora Morales woke up on Valentine’s Day with a bright smile on her face. For the first time in weeks, she felt light, almost like a girl in love again. She moved around the living room humming softly, checking off her to-do list with quick, excited strokes of her pen.
She had planned something special for Eric that evening. As she adjusted the fairy lights and looked at the candles lined up, her cheeks flushed pink. She kept picturing the look on his face when he walked in and saw it all.
Cora and Eric had first met years ago at a business conference in Texas. Their bond had been instant and strong—two souls who understood each other’s loneliness because both had grown up in foster care. Together, they had dreamed of a large, happy family filled with love, laughter, and stability.
And they got it. After only a few dates, they tied the knot, and soon after, their lives changed forever when they welcomed triplets. Three little miracles who filled their days with joy—and exhaustion.
But as the children grew, the weight of responsibility slowly settled on Eric’s shoulders. He became the sole breadwinner while Cora stayed home to care for the kids. Eric gave everything to provide for them, but in return, stress and guilt chewed at him. He never felt like he had enough money, enough time, enough control.
Weekends brought no rest, savings never seemed enough, and luxuries like vacations or fancy dinners became distant dreams.
Cora, however, never complained. She stretched their budget with care, never wasting a cent, and made the best of what they had. Even that night, on Valentine’s Day, she slipped into an old red dress Eric had once gifted her on their first wedding anniversary. It was outdated, but to her, it was priceless. It meant love, memories, and sacrifice.
As evening approached, she rushed around the kitchen, carefully setting the table. A heart-shaped red velvet cheesecake sat proudly in the center. She’d made pasta, some side dishes, and bought a bottle of wine. And beside Eric’s plate, she placed a small gift box she had prepared with her whole heart.
“Perfect,” she whispered, satisfied, as the fairy lights twinkled and the candles glowed warmly.
The doorbell rang. Her heart leapt.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey!” she greeted cheerfully, kissing Eric’s cheek as he stepped inside.
But instead of smiling, Eric stopped in his tracks. His eyes darted over the rose petals on the floor, the dimmed lights, the decorated table. His face darkened.
“What on Earth have you done, Cora? Are we some stupid teenagers?” he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a whip.
Her smile vanished. She blinked at him, startled. “Honey! What’s wrong? Are you upset with something? Did something happen at work?”
Eric’s voice rose. “Are you serious? Is this why I work my ass off? So that you can blow everything on some stupid crap like this?!”
“Oh, Eric, relax,” she said softly, trying to ease him. “I didn’t go overboard! The ingredients cost a little more, but it wasn’t much. Please—sit down, taste the food. Tell me what you think?”
He yanked out a chair, sat, and took a bite of the pasta. But instead of eating, he spat it back onto the table.
“What the hell is this? Why does it taste like garbage?!” His voice boomed so loudly it startled the triplets awake in their room.
“Eric!” Cora cried, panic in her voice. “The babies! I just put them to sleep half an hour ago—you woke them up!”
“So what? That’s my fault too?” He slammed his hand on the table. “You stay home all day and play with the kids while I kill myself at work! And what the hell is this?” He grabbed the gift box and waved it in the air. “A gift? What am I, a kid? Do you think I’ll be impressed by this junk?”
Then, with one furious move, he threw it to the floor.
“Eric, stop it!” Cora’s voice shook with hurt and disbelief.
He pointed toward the kitchen. “Have you seen the sink? Do you know why it’s piled high with dishes? Because you were too busy with this nonsense instead of keeping the house clean!”
Cora’s heart cracked. She stared at the man she once thought would protect her forever. “You’re impossible, Eric,” she whispered, tears welling up. “I can’t believe you’re the same man I fell in love with. Just…ugh, leave me alone.” She turned and stormed off toward the children’s room.
The babies’ cries continued, echoing through the house. Eric groaned in frustration. “Why aren’t they quiet yet? Aren’t you supposed to be the perfect housewife? Do at least one thing right, Cora!”
That was the last straw. Cora came back, her face flushed with anger. “They’re crying because we’re out of diapers, Eric! We don’t have a single one left! So shut your mouth and watch them while I go to the store. It’s far, so don’t expect me back soon!”
Before he could reply, she grabbed her purse, stormed out, and slammed the door.
Eric muttered bitterly to himself. “Yeah, sure. And you call yourself a housewife.”
But as the minutes ticked by, irritation turned into unease. The babies wailed. An hour passed. Still no Cora.
“What’s taking her so long?” he grumbled, pacing. He reached for his phone to call her, when suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Finally. “Cora! Do you know how long it takes to buy diapers?” he barked as he swung open the door.
But it wasn’t Cora. A police officer stood on the porch, his expression heavy.
“Does Cora Morales live here?”
Eric froze. “Yes. I’m her husband. Why?”
The officer cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to tell you this, sir, but your wife…she died in a car accident tonight. You’ll need to come with us to identify her body. We found her address on her driver’s license.”
Eric’s whole body went cold. The words didn’t make sense. “No…no, that’s not…you must be wrong.”
But it was true.
Shaking, Eric called their neighbor, Mrs. Nelson, begging her to watch the children. Then, numb and terrified, he followed the officer to the mortuary. And when he saw Cora’s pale, lifeless body, he broke down. His cries filled the room, but no sound could bring her back.
The next day, after the funeral, Eric locked himself inside the house. He didn’t eat, didn’t speak. Everywhere he looked, Cora was there—her laughter, her warmth, her love. The table she had set still stood, untouched, a cruel reminder of what he had destroyed with his own temper.
Then he remembered—the gift.
With trembling hands, he searched the floor until he found it, still wrapped. He tore it open, his vision blurred with tears. Inside were two plane tickets to Hawaii and a letter.
His hands shook as he read:
To the love of my life, Eric,
Happy Valentine’s Day, honey! Guess what? I got a job this month! I know how exhausted you’ve been working alone, so I started applying. Yesterday, I got hired! Mrs. Nelson agreed to help with the babies, so I can finally share the load with you.
And that’s not all. See those tickets? They’re for us—a vacation in Hawaii, just the two of us! I have more surprises planned, but I’ll tell you later. I can’t wait to see your face when you find out.
Love always, Cora.
Eric dropped the letter, his chest heaving with sobs. He had crushed the one person who had only ever wanted to love him, support him, and surprise him. But it was too late.
Cora was gone.
From that day on, Eric’s life was never the same. He raised the triplets as best as he could, pouring himself into being both father and mother, but his heart remained broken. Every Valentine’s Day, he visited Cora’s grave, sitting for hours, whispering stories, regrets, apologies—wishing he could take back that night.
Lesson: Don’t jump to conclusions. Don’t let anger speak for you. Eric lost the love of his life because he let stress blind him to her efforts.