Delivery Guy Left a Message for Me on a Pizza Box — Turns Out, He Saved Me from a Disastrous Marriage

When Emily ordered pizza while her fiancé was out of town, she expected a quiet night alone, not a message that would unravel her life. Little did she know, the delivery would save her from a disastrous marriage.

Living with Jake felt like being stuck in a comfortable routine. Our small apartment, with its cozy throws and mismatched cushions, was our haven—or so I thought. I’m Emily, and for the past three years, Jake and I have made a habit out of simple pleasures.

Emily ordered a pizza | Source: Midjourney

Emily ordered a pizza | Source: Midjourney

The most frequent one was ordering pizza from the same local spot on our lazy evenings. It was a ritual. Jake would browse through movie listings while I’d dial up our favorite pizzeria.

Tom, the delivery guy, knew us by name. His visits were as regular as clockwork, complete with his cheerful “How’s it going?” that echoed through our small entryway. Tonight, however, it was just me. Jake was out of town on a business trip, and the quiet was louder than usual.

I ordered a single pizza—my usual, pepperoni with extra cheese. When the doorbell rang, it was Tom, as expected, but something about him was off tonight. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his hands seemed to shake a bit as he handed me the pizza box.

Tom delivered the pizza | Source: Midjourney

Tom delivered the pizza | Source: Midjourney

“Evening, Emily. Jake’s not around tonight?” Tom asked, a slight quiver in his voice.

“No, just me tonight,” I responded, trying to sound cheerful. Tom nodded, quickly turning on his heel to leave—too quickly, it seemed.

As I shut the door, his behavior nagged at me. Was he okay? Shaking off the concern, I carried the warm box to the kitchen. The aroma of garlic and tomato sauce filled the air, a comfort that usually felt like a hug.

Emily found the note | Source: Midjourney

Emily found the note | Source: Midjourney

But as I opened the box, my heart skipped a beat. There, scrawled across the inside lid of the box with a black Sharpie, was a message that read, “He is not who you think. Check your door camera.”

The pizza suddenly seemed unappetizing as a cold wave of dread washed over me. My hands trembled as I set the box down, the cheerful buzz of the apartment now swallowed by a looming silence. What was I about to find on that camera?

My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the tablet that controlled our door camera. The message in the pizza box had sent chills down my spine, and every second until I opened the app felt like an eternity. I tapped into the camera’s history, my breath catching with each swipe back through the days.

Emily finds the footage | Source: Midjourney

Emily finds the footage | Source: Midjourney

Then, I saw it.

Jake, my Jake, greeted a woman at our door. Not just any woman—this one was laughing as she handed him a bottle of wine. My heart sank. I scrolled further. Another day, another woman, this one carrying a stack of movies.

Every time I was away, it seemed, Jake had company. Different women, each visit documented clearly by the camera he had installed, ironically, for our safety.

Jake meets the other woman on his front porch | Source: Midjourney

Jake meets the other woman on his front porch | Source: Midjourney

I sat frozen, the tablet dropping to my lap. My mind raced. How could he? When had our life together turned into this charade? Tears blurred my vision, each clip on the camera a stab to my heart. The trust I’d placed in him, the love I’d nurtured—were they all just one-sided? Was I the only one in this?

With each woman’s laugh, each shared bottle of wine, it felt as though the apartment shrank, the walls closing in on me. I’d loved this space, our shared life, but now each room screamed of betrayal.

I felt nauseous, a lump forming in my throat as the reality settled like lead in my stomach. This wasn’t just a simple mistake or a misunderstanding. It was a deliberate, repeated betrayal. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

Emily calms herself before confronting Jake | Source: Midjourney

Emily calms herself before confronting Jake | Source: Midjourney

Rage mingled with my sorrow, heating my tears as they streamed down my face. I had to confront him, to demand answers. But first, I needed to compose myself, to gather the shattered pieces of my dignity. I couldn’t let him see me broken.

I had to be strong, for my own sake. The love I thought we had was gone, and in its place was a cold, hard anger. Jake had some serious explaining to do, and I was going to make sure I got it.

When Jake returned, the apartment was silent, the tension as thick as fog. I sat at the kitchen table, the images from the door camera looping in my mind. He greeted me with his usual casual smile, oblivious to the storm inside me.

Jake returns home | Source: Midjourney

Jake returns home | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, Em. Missed you,” he said, hanging up his coat.

I didn’t return the smile. “We need to talk.”

Jake’s smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”

I held up the tablet, showing a pause on a frame of him with one of the women. “Care to explain this?”

Jake glanced at the screen, then shrugged, his posture relaxed. “Emily, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. They’re just friends.”

Jake listens to Emily | Source: Midjourney

Jake listens to Emily | Source: Midjourney

“Friends?” I snapped. “Different women, each time I’m away? Really, Jake?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Em, you’re being paranoid. These women mean nothing.”

“Nothing?” My voice rose, anger searing through my calm façade. “How can you say that?”

Jake’s tone hardened. “I bring a lot to this relationship. You really want to throw this away over some insecurity?”

Shocked Emily | Source: Midjourney

Shocked Emily | Source: Midjourney

That was it. His dismissal, his arrogance—it crystallized everything I felt. “It’s not insecurity when I have evidence, Jake. I can’t do this. I won’t marry someone who thinks so little of me.”

Jake’s face tightened, the arrogance slipping into shock. “You’re serious? Over some nonsense?”

“Yes,” I said, firm and clear. “I’m done. We’re done.”

He stared at me, then without another word, grabbed his coat and left. The door slammed shut behind him, and just like that, it was over.

Emily sits in front of the closed door | Source: Midjourney

Emily sits in front of the closed door | Source: Midjourney

After a few moments alone, gathering my thoughts, I picked up my phone and dialed the pizza place. Tom answered.

“Tom, it’s Emily. I… I wanted to say thank you. You were right about Jake.”

There was a pause on the line. “I’m really sorry, Emily. I thought you should know.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, sincerity heavy in my voice. “Could I… maybe buy you a coffee sometime? To talk?”

Tom talks to Emily | Source: Midjourney

Tom talks to Emily | Source: Midjourney

“I’d like that,” Tom replied, a warmth in his voice that comforted my bruised heart.

The next day, as I met Tom at the local café, the anxiety of confronting Jake felt like a distant memory. Tom’s genuine concern was evident in his eyes, making me feel seen for the first time in a long while.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Tom. It must have been hard to decide to tell me,” I said as we sat down with our coffees.

Tom and Emily go out for a coffee | Source: Midjourney

Tom and Emily go out for a coffee | Source: Midjourney

He nodded. “It was, Emily. But it didn’t feel right keeping it from you. Everyone deserves the truth.”

As we talked, I realized how much of my identity had been tied to my relationship with Jake. Now, as I sat across from Tom, a sense of freedom and possibility washed over me. Here was someone who valued honesty over convenience. It was refreshing and, strangely, hopeful.

Our conversation moved from the heavy topics to lighter ones, and laughter soon followed. I hadn’t expected to feel this light after such a heavy blow. It was a reminder that sometimes, out of the wreckage comes a chance to rebuild something better.

Emily laughs with Tom | Source: Midjourney

Emily laughs with Tom | Source: Midjourney

Sitting there with Tom, laughter bubbling up between us, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. It was like breathing fresh air after being cooped up indoors too long.

“I never thought a pizza delivery could change my life,” I joked, glancing at Tom. His smile told me he understood.

Tom laughs with Emily | Source: Midjourney

Tom laughs with Emily | Source: Midjourney

“Life is strange, Emily. Sometimes help comes from where you least expect it,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with kindness.

As we left the café, a new sense of hope filled me. I was ready to move forward, to embrace whatever came next. I wasn’t sure what the future held, but I was certain of one thing: I was on my way to finding happiness again, one slice at a time.

My Boyfriend Went on a Bachelorette Trip with All Women — Karma Struck Hard When the Truth Came Out

Secrets, lies, affairs, drama, and so much more are what make up my sordid tale. I once trusted my boyfriend with having a female best friend but felt uneasy when she asked him to join her bachelorette party. Only to find out that there was more to their “friendship” than I anticipated!

A shocked woman looking at a phone | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman looking at a phone | Source: Pexels

Let me tell you about the time I, Matilda, learned that sometimes the universe knows when to intervene. It all started when my boyfriend, Jake, was invited to be the “man of honor” at his female best friend, Lisa’s, wedding. He was thrilled; I was… less so.

Lisa planned a weekend bachelorette getaway in a quaint cabin by a lake. To my dismay, Jake was the only guy invited! “It’s just a fun trip, babe! You know I love you,” he assured me.

He said this while packing his bags excitedly and ahead of time. This all happened at the apartment he shared with three other guys, as I hovered around.

Read more of this story here.

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.

After Years of Leaving and Going back to My Cruel Dad, My Mom Showed up on My Doorstep Again — Story of the Day

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.

I sat across from my friend Sandy in my kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of free time together. Life got busy, and it felt like we never saw each other anymore.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s nice to finally catch up,” Sandy said with a smile.

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, pouring her a glass of wine.

After a pause, she looked at me curiously. “Is your mom living with you now?”

“No, why would she?” Sandy’s eyebrows furrowed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I thought she left your dad again?”

“Oh, you know how it goes with them. Every two years, same story. He messes up, she gets mad, packs her bags, and swears she’s done for good. Then he buys her something fancy, and suddenly all is forgiven. They act like they’re in love again, like nothing ever happened.” Sandy sighed.

“Have you tried talking some sense into her?”

“I did,” I said, feeling the old frustration return.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I told her she deserves better. But then she goes back to him, and she’d get mad at me, saying I wasn’t supporting her.”

Sandy frowned and took a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry, Amalia. That sounds hard.”

My eyes landed on the corner of the kitchen table, where my mom had left a note the last time she left my dad. I could still picture her then—standing in my doorway, suitcase in hand, her face full of hope.

“I’ve left him for good this time, Amalia,” she said with a determined smile.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to believe her, but deep down, I doubted it. Still, a tiny hope stirred inside me, whispering that maybe this time would be different.

We went to a café nearby for breakfast, sitting across from each other. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and finally said what I’d been too scared to say before.

“Mom, you know you can’t keep going back to him, right?” I asked, my voice steady.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked down at her coffee, then back up at me with a weak smile. “Of course, I’m not planning to. I’ve made up my mind.”

I sighed and leaned closer. “He’s awful, Mom. He treated you terribly. He doesn’t change.”

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and took her hand.

“I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, you know?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She squeezed my hand, her eyes watering. “Thank you, dear. It means a lot.”

I thought maybe my words got through to her. Maybe this time would be different. But when I came back from work that evening, the house was quiet. I called for her, but no answer.

Instead, a note sat on the table: “Your father apologized and bought me a new car. I realized I overreacted and went back. XX Mom.” I crumpled the note, tossing it into the trash. How foolish I’d been to hope.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Sandy’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. “You should understand your mom better than anyone,” she said. “You left Robert, and that was hard. But you did it.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, it was hard. But I knew I had to.” She lifted her glass, her eyes warm.

“Well, I think you’re strong as hell. Cheers to that.”

I laughed and raised my glass. “Cheers.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up late. My alarm didn’t go off, or maybe I just slept through it. Either way, I was rushing around, trying to get dressed, find my keys, and grab my bag all at once.

My hair was a mess, and I could barely think straight. I could already tell it was going to be one of those days where nothing goes right. As I tried to slip on my shoes, I heard the doorbell. I glanced at the clock.

I didn’t have time for this. “Damn it,” I muttered, frustrated. I opened the door and froze. There stood my mom, holding a suitcase, her face serious.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the words slipped out. “What did Dad do this time?!”

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and she said, “He died.”

For a moment, everything around me just stopped. I couldn’t breathe or think. My mind went completely blank, like a switch had been turned off. I tried to say something, anything, but no words came out.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After hearing the news, I called my boss and said I needed the day off. There wasn’t much I could explain, so I just told him there was a family emergency. My mom and I got in the car and drove back to my childhood home.

When we arrived, I walked into my old bedroom and felt a rush of memories. Everything was the same—the posters on the wall, the faded bedspread, even the little figurines on the shelf. It was like stepping back in time, and for a moment, I felt like I was a teenager again.

On the morning of the funeral, I woke up to loud music blasting through the house. I groaned, pulled the pillow over my head, but Mom just turned it up louder, filling every corner of the house.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mom! Turn it off!” I shouted, my voice barely cutting through the blaring music.

“What?!” she yelled back from somewhere down the hall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you!”

A moment later, the music stopped, and I heard her footsteps. She appeared in my doorway, looking calm, like it was just a regular morning. “What were you saying?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Why is the music so loud?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s too early for this.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “This song makes me happy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I stared at her. “You’re not supposed to feel happy today. It’s the funeral.”

She looked at me, still smiling. “Why not? You should feel happy every day, no matter what’s happening.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Besides, this song is like 20 years old. Nobody listens to it anymore.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it,” she said. “I remember you dancing around your room, singing every word.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “and then I got sick of it, like everyone else.”

She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. When I love something, I love it forever,” she said softly, then turned and walked out. A few seconds later, the music started up again, just as loud.

After greeting everyone at the church, shaking hands, and hearing the same phrases—”I’m so sorry for your loss,” “He was a good man”—I felt drained. It was like I was on autopilot, just nodding and thanking people without really thinking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I needed a break, so I slipped away to a small, quiet room at the back of the church. I was hoping to be alone for a minute, but when I walked in, Mom was already there, sitting by the window. She looked up and smiled, her eyes tired but calm.

“I don’t like funerals either,” Mom said, staring out the window.

I just scoffed, feeling a bitter laugh rise in my throat. “Yeah, well, we’re stuck here.”

She turned back to me. “Did you prepare your speech?” she asked, her tone gentle.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head. “I’m not saying anything. I don’t have anything good to say about him.”

Mom’s face softened, like she was trying to understand. “Why not? He was a good father and a wonderful husband.”

I stared at her, stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we talking about the same person?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked confused. “Why do you hate him so much?” she asked, almost like she truly didn’t understand. “I never got it.”

“Why? Do you really want to know?” I felt something snap inside, and the words just came pouring out. “When I was 13, you went on a business trip, and my friend stayed over. We heard noises from your bedroom. We thought someone was hurt, so we went to check…”

“…And there he was, in bed with Mrs. Brown, our neighbor. I just screamed and ran out of the house. And when I came back, he didn’t say a word to me. He pretended like it never happened, like I didn’t see it. That’s why I hated him. And I still hate him,” I said, my voice trembling.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s eyes softened. “I know.”

“You don’t know how I feel!” I shouted, tears welling up.

“I mean, I know about the affairs,” she said, her voice calm.

“You knew?” I asked, shocked. “And you did nothing?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Of course I knew,” she said softly.

“Then I hate you too,” I said, my voice cold. I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.

“I’m sorry, Amalia,” Mom said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong like you. I was scared to leave him. I didn’t know how to do it for good.”

“You think I wasn’t scared when I left Robert? I was terrified,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “But I did it because I knew I had to. And you know what? It was hard, but eventually, it felt… freeing.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m glad to hear that. I never liked Robert, you know. When you left him, I was so proud. You knew you deserved better. But it wasn’t the same for me. When I love something, I love it forever. And I loved your father.” I stared at her, confused.

“Even after he treated you that way?”

She nodded. “He wasn’t perfect. I never needed him to be. He had flaws, and some were really big ones. But he always came back.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I frowned, trying to understand.

She sighed, her eyes meeting mine. “Honestly, I’m glad to hear you hate me. Because all this time, I thought you didn’t care. And between hate and indifference, I’d rather have your hate.”

I didn’t expect those words to hit me the way they did, but they did. For some reason, I found myself smiling a little. I glanced at the clock. “We need to go. People will be waiting.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom gently placed her hand on my back. “You know, your father loved two things most in life: expensive liquor and making you laugh. Maybe you can mention that in your speech, but… skip the first part,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I couldn’t help but laugh, a real, honest laugh, and for a moment, the tension lifted. We left the small room together, side by side, and I felt something shift inside me.

I glanced at Mom and realized she wasn’t just my mom—she was a person, with her own fears, flaws, and regrets. I had always seen her as someone who should be stronger, someone who should have known better. But in that moment, I understood she was just trying her best, like I was.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While helping her mother, Sarah, move into a new house, Natalie stumbles upon an old photograph hidden in a box. It shows a young Sarah holding a newborn baby with a distinctive birthmark on its cheek. But Natalie never had a birthmark. Confused and unsettled, she realizes there’s a secret her mother has been hiding.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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