Wealthy investor Robert, dealing with the aftermath of his wife’s death, stumbles upon a secret divorce agreement and another startling revelation, leading him on a transformative journey toward forgiveness.
Robert sat on his couch, staring blankly at the divorce decree. He was in his up-market beach house, surrounded by memories of Melissa, his wife of 30 years.
Her death had been a blow, but finding this document in her belongings was bewildering. He had no memory of ever divorcing her.
He reflected on the accident he’d had years ago, which caused head trauma and a six-month memory gap for him. Reading the document, he realized that it was during that time he had apparently initiated the divorce. “July twenty years ago,” he muttered, noting the date on the document.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
His life back then was a whirl of socializing with artists and actors, fueled by excessive drinking. Despite the temptations, he remained faithful to Melissa, although his drinking issue strained their marriage.
He eventually picked up the phone and dialed the law firm’s number on the letterhead, only to find they had moved. The receptionist at the other end suggested he Google the new number.
Robert returned to the document and was stunned that Melissa was entitled to half his considerable wealth in the divorce. He had been wealthy even then, with a fortune inherited from his father.
Robert had dabbled as a stockbroker, but for the most part, he paid others to manage and grow his wealth while he lived an easy and high life in New York City.
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Not that he’d been irresponsible; he spent his money well and donated large sums to charitable organizations—he left that side of his dealings to his wife to manage, which she did well.
He returned to Melissa’s box of documents and discovered more surprises. Among them was a birth certificate for a child named Tallulah, born three years before their marriage. The child’s last name matched Melissa’s maiden name.
Robert’s heart raced. He had always sensed Melissa had a secret, but this was beyond anything he had imagined. A child he never knew about.
He pondered the situation, troubled. Melissa had fought cancer bravely, but it had spread rapidly, taking her life. Robert, still grieving, now grappled with this new revelation.
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He decided to discuss it with his twins, Pete and Sandra. They were close to their mother, especially during her illness, and had returned home for her funeral.
As he sat them down, he explained his discovery. The twins were shocked, unable to comprehend their mother’s secret.
“Why didn’t she tell us?” Sandra asked, visibly upset.
“I don’t know. Maybe she thought it’d hurt us,” Robert replied. “I’m also trying to understand why there’s a divorce document. I don’t recall any of it… due to the accident.”
While scrutinizing the divorce paper, Pete suggested, “You should look up the lawyer listed here on LinkedIn.”
Robert agreed, but they decided to focus on the funeral first.
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***
In the quiet aftermath of the funeral, Robert summoned the courage to confront the situation. It didn’t take long for him to trace the lawyer who had officiated the divorce; he was with another firm in New York.
The call brought more surprises; Franklin recognized Robert instantly and expressed concern about his well-being.
“Well, yeah, I’m fine,” Robert said, flummoxed that Franklin seemed to know who he was. “So, you know me?”
“Of course I do. It was a chaotic time, what with your accident. How’s Melissa?”
“Melissa passed away about a week ago.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. How can I help?”
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“Uh, I found some documents that I’m quite concerned about. A divorce decree and a birth certificate for a child.”
There was complete silence on the other end of the line. “I handled the divorce, Robert. It was an open-and-shut case. You don’t remember it?”
“I don’t. Melissa and I were happily married for thirty years.”
“You never left her?”
“I never left her, Franklin. Do you have records of the divorce and Melissa’s will?”
“We have everything on file. How about coming to New York to figure this out? It’s serious.”
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Robert agreed and flew to New York. In Franklin’s office, they discussed Robert’s past and Melissa’s recent will change.
“Do you remember anything about the accident, the fall?”
“No, just what Melissa told me. I fell from the balcony during an argument about my drinking.”
“Did Melissa tell you anything else about that night?”
“You mean later on when I recovered? No, we didn’t speak about it much,” Robert replied. “She moved us to California. She found the best head trauma specialist in the country out there to help with my recovery. I was in good hands.”
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“So, you never saw any media coverage at the time?” Franklin asked.
“Melissa thought it best I stay away from that completely. She wanted a fresh start away from that life. I agreed. I think it was the best thing to do.”
“Robert, this might be hard to hear. Were you aware of the life insurance policy in Melissa’s name?”
“I’d forgotten about that. We bought it soon after we were married,” Robert mused. “She would’ve been the sole beneficiary at the time of the accident. Hang on, are you saying—”
“I’m not saying anything, Rob, please. The media speculated Melissa had something to do with your fall,” Franklin revealed. “But well, you survived, and she never cashed the policy. By the way, she changed her will at the time of your accident.”
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“Does the name of the beneficiary mean anything to you?” Franklin asked, sliding a sheaf of papers across to Robert.
“Tallulah J—,” he said. “Yes. Remember the birth certificate I said I found in Melissa’s personal effects? Same name.”
Robert reached into the leather shoulder bag he’d brought, found the birth certificate, and handed it over to the lawyer.
“The plot thickens,” Franklin said, looking the document over. “Along with the will, there’s a sealed letter from Melissa addressed to you with instructions to be read only in the event of her death. Are you ready for it?”
Robert nodded. “Let me see it,” he said.
Franklin handed over the envelope. “I’m going to visit the bathroom,” he said. “Please take your time.”
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Robert opened the letter and read:
“My Dearest Robert,
I’m sorry for keeping such a big secret. When I fell pregnant with Tallulah, I was scared. I thought you’d leave me, so I kept it a secret until your private investigator found out.
I had Tallulah adopted, and I never told anyone else about her. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I’ve missed her every day. And yes, no matter what anyone says about that night, I had nothing to do with the fall. It was an accident.
I’m so sorry for everything. I hope you can at least try to understand.
Love,
Mel”
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“In her will, Franklin, she left her entire estate to Tallulah?” Robert asked as the lawyer returned.
Franklin nodded. “She tied all the assets up in a trust account that pays out to her daughter in the event of Melissa’s death.”
“That money is mine,” Robert declared. “Can we challenge the will in court? Can the divorce be rescinded?”
Franklin explained the challenges but agreed. “I think we can make a case.”
“How much money are we talking about here?” Robert inquired.
“You mean, how much will it cost to contest the will and annul the divorce?” Franklin clarified.
“No, how much money was my wife worth when she died?” Robert asked.
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“Nearly half a billion dollars,” Franklin revealed.
“And it all goes to her daughter Tallulah now?”
“That’s right,” Franklin confirmed. “Unless we sue the estate for what she did to you, hiding all this.”
“In that folder you have there, are there any contact details for Tallulah?” Robert asked.
“There’s a last known address. Looks like a business address.”
“Write down that address for me, please, Frank,” Robert said.
Franklin provided an address in Los Angeles. Determined, Robert visited the given location, a rundown studio, and encountered a gruff man.
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“I’m looking for a woman,” Robert began.
The man scoffed. “Join the club. Aren’t we all?”
“She’s around 33. This is the address given as her workplace,” Robert said, ignoring the man’s joke.
“Let’s see, that could be any one of, I dunno, a hundred women in the last year alone. I can’t help you, brah. Best you shove off. Are you a lawyer or somethin’?”
“No, this is a personal matter. I’m looking for my wife’s daughter.”
“Another one looking for a long-lost daughter,” the man mocked.
“What do you do here?” Robert asked. “Is this an adult film studio?”
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“Got that right, genius. Now are you going to piss off, or do I have to throw you out?”
“There’s no need for that. I’m here to give this woman some news about her mother; she died,” Robert said. “Her name is Tallulah.”
Robert offered him a $1000 reward if he told her about Tallulah. The man agreed after seeing the money.
“Her stage name is Tulip Jones, or sometimes, she goes by TJ. Try Melrose Productions a couple of blocks over,” the man disclosed. “And don’t tell her I told you where to find her. She’s not exactly in our good books around here. Ran out on us a year ago.”
Robert gave him the money and left.
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Despite a somewhat warm reception at Melrose Productions, Robert was directed to contact her through a provided cell phone number. He wasn’t sure if she’d answer his calls, so he left her a message. Finally, they spoke over text and agreed to meet.
As they sat across from each other, Robert divulged the truth about Melissa, the inheritance, and his desire to guide Tallulah through managing the substantial sum.
“Why should I trust you to handle my money?”
“I’ve made it my business to manage money; believe me, it’s not as easy as you think,” Robert assured her.
Their conversation shifted to personal matters. Tallulah revealed her disdain for the adult film industry and her desire to escape it. She’d been forced into it by her foster mother.
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“Trust me, from this day on, you don’t have to do it ever again. I can promise you that,” Robert assured her, handing her his business card.
She looked up at him with a hint of surprise and hope after she’d skimmed the details on the card. “You’re a producer?” she asked.
“Executive producer,” Robert said. “I can show you how to get into it if you like. You’ll be in a good place with your inheritance money as long as you don’t gamble it all on one film. It’s a tough business.”
“I could go for that,” Tallulah said thoughtfully. “The proper film business, I mean. Not gambling.”
“How about meeting my kids, too? Twins: a boy and a girl. Twenty-two. Good kids. One’s at film school, and one’s studying business. Good combination.”
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Tallulah agreed, and a few days later, she finally met Sandra and Pete at Robert’s Santa Monica office. As small talk flowed, Robert proposed a trip to New York to handle Tallulah’s inheritance.
With plans unfolding, Tallulah hesitantly shared her desire to use part of the inheritance to establish an organization to help women leave the adult film industry. And they all decided to name it after Melissa.
“I’d be happy to draw up a business plan,” Pete offered.
Under Robert’s guidance, the organization named Melissa’s Hope thrived. Tallulah became an advocate for trafficked women and children. The siblings bonded, creating a close-knit family.
Robert remained grateful for everything he had been given in life. He took every opportunity to give to others and help them as best he could. And above all, he remained grateful for the lesson in love his late wife had given him.
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I Caught My Ex-MIL Stealing My Shower Cabin and Ripping off Wallpaper Her ‘Son Had Glued’
After a problematic marriage, Kelly and Peter get divorced. But her ex-mother-in-law just doesn’t want to let things go. From ripping off wallpaper to stealing an entire shower cabin, Lorraine just keeps testing Kelly’s patience until reality hits, and Lorraine learns her own lesson.
I’m Kelly, and I’ve been divorced from my ex-husband, Peter, for about six months now. We were married for ten years, and while the marriage wasn’t perfect, it was my life.
Until I found out about his affair.
That was the last straw, and everything came crashing down. The divorce was messy and painful, and to top it off, I had to deal with his mother, Lorraine, who was a nightmare in human form.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Lorraine never liked me. Even when we were married, she made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t good enough for her son.
“I’m just being honest with you, Kelly. Peter is used to a certain way of life since being with me. I’m his mother, and I taught him that perfection is the only option here. You’re… I mean. Let’s face it, doll. You’re far from perfect.”
When Peter and I split up, she went out of her way to help him get as much as he could from me. Money, property, some of my wedding jewelry, you name it. If it was valuable, she made sure that I lost it.
A woman’s jewelry box | Source: Midjourney
I kept telling myself that once the divorce was over and Peter moved out, I’d finally have peace.
But the peace didn’t last.
One day, I came home from work early because I had a headache from staring at my laptop all day, and I was exhausted, ready to collapse, only to stop dead in my tracks in the hallway outside my apartment.
Sitting there, in the common corridor, was my shower cabin. It had a big, bold “Peter’s Property” sticker plastered across it as if I might somehow forget who it belonged to. My stomach sank.
A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
What the hell was going on?
When I stepped into my apartment, I was hit by a cloud of dust and ripped wallpaper. The walls were half-bare, and I heard a ripping sound coming from down the hallway. Turning the corner, I came face-to-face with Lorraine, my ex-mother-in-law, tearing the wallpaper right off my walls.
She muttered under her breath about how she didn’t want to leave any “traces” of Peter’s work.
A pile of ripped wallpaper | Source: Midjourney
“What the hell, Lorraine?” I demanded, pushing my way into the kitchen, the only place untouched by her hands.
Lorraine looked up at me, not even flinching.
“This is all his work,” she said with that haughty tone she’d perfected over the years. “He put up this wallpaper, so it’s his to take down. And the shower cabin, it’s coming with us too. We’re not leaving anything for you.”
An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney
I was stunned. How low could they go? I’d already been drained emotionally by the divorce, and now this?
I felt helpless, watching her tear apart my home, muttering the whole time about how Peter “wasn’t leaving a single thing behind” for me. She was ripping wallpaper, unplugging light fixtures, and muttering about every single piece of the apartment that Peter had once touched.
“Lorraine,” I said. “Please, just stop. This is unfair…”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
But she didn’t even look at me. She just kept on, pulling down wallpaper and yanking at the shower frame. I felt a familiar lump rising in my throat. I was tired, too tired to fight anymore, so I just slumped onto the couch feeling numb and defeated as I watched her continue her destruction.
The next day, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Lorraine stormed back into my apartment. This time, though, she wasn’t there to take anything; she was there for help.
An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Kelly,” she cried, grabbing my arm with a desperation I’d never seen in her before. “You have to help me. Please. I’ll give you anything. Just… please help him.”
I blinked at her, confused.
“Help who? What are you talking about?”
“Peter!” she wailed, her voice breaking. “He’s in trouble. I don’t care what it takes. Please, you have to save him.”
A crying older woman | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my arm free.
“Lorraine, what are you talking about?”
She looked at me, her eyes wide and pleading.
“Peter had an accident. A really terrible one. He was out drinking, and it was late. It’s really bad, Kelly. He’s hurt. Please, you have to help him.”
A car accident | Source: Midjourney
A pang shot through my chest. Peter, the man who had cheated, manipulated, and broken me, now needed my help?
A tiny voice in my head whispered that I should help him, that it was the right thing to do. But then the memories of all he’d done to me resurfaced — all the lies and manipulation.
He’d torn apart my life, and now he was paying the price.
A man in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
Wasn’t that fair? Wasn’t it poetic justice in a way?
I looked back at Lorraine, who was practically on her knees.
“I’m not saving Peter, Lorraine. He made his choices. He’s finally dealing with the consequences of his actions. It was his drinking that made things really unpleasant for us. It brought out the worst in him. And you want me to get involved again?”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Her face twisted with anger and her mouth set into a tight line.
“You’ll regret this, Kelly,” she hissed. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
I crossed my arms and met her gaze.
“No, Lorraine, I think you’re the one who’ll regret it.”
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
The days that followed were filled with rumors. I heard bits and pieces about Peter’s accident, about how he’d been drinking, how he was lucky to be alive, apparently. But his recovery was rough. He was in debt, and things were piling up.
I felt a mix of relief and anger. Finally, Peter was facing something that he couldn’t charm his way out of. I decided to go to his place. I mean, I was done with Peter, but I wasn’t heartless. I just wanted to see what he looked like in the aftermath of it all.
“Come in,” he called as I knocked on the front door of Lorraine’s house.
A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
At least she wasn’t home. I didn’t want to see the satisfaction on her face. To Lorraine, it would look like I wanted to help, as though I couldn’t help myself and couldn’t stay away from Peter.
“Kelly?” he enthusiastically said when he saw me.
“Peter,” I said, taking in the room.
A man on a couch | Source: Midjourney
It was a far cry from the strict house that Lorraine usually kept. Instead, there were containers of Chinese food lying around, discarded bottles of water, chocolate wrappers, and dirty mugs. Peter had really taken Lorraine’s house and made it a mess.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, lying on the couch. “I need some help, Kelly. I need my hospital bills to be paid as soon as possible. Can you do it? Please? They’ll take my car!”
“Seriously, Peter?” I asked. “I just came to make sure that you were okay physically. I’m not about to sort your life out. I’m not spending a cent on you.”
Mugs and bottles on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“Then why bother to come here?” he demanded.
“I don’t know, but clearly it was a mistake,” I said, turning around and leaving without another word.
Then, about a week later, Lorraine showed up at my door again. She wasn’t the same person who’d stormed in before. Her shoulders were slumped, her eyes tired and haunted. She looked like a woman who’d aged ten years in a matter of days.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“Kelly,” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “I know I don’t deserve it, but… but I came to apologize.”
I didn’t say anything. I just put the kettle on and allowed her to keep talking.
“I was wrong about Peter,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “He’s not the man I thought he was. He ruined everything, and he pushed everyone away. I thought I was helping him all these years, but I was only making things worse.”
An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney
A part of me felt a glimmer of satisfaction seeing her so defeated. But then I noticed the genuine grief in her expression, the regret she could no longer hide.
She wasn’t just devastated about Peter’s actions; she was grieving the son she thought she had. The realization was so clear: he had been just as manipulative with her as he’d been with me. Lorraine had been caught in his web of lies, just like I had.
An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney
At that moment, something inside me softened. Lorraine wasn’t just the bitter woman who had fought against me during the divorce. She was a mother, broken by the son she’d devoted her life to.
Still, I didn’t really want to allow myself to get back into their lives. So, I invited Lorraine to stay for dinner. At least I could give her a decent meal before she went back to Peter.
Food on a table | Source: Midjourney
Months later, I received a short, handwritten letter from him. It wasn’t an excuse; it was an apology.
Kelly, I’m so sorry for everything. For betraying you, for the pain I caused. I’m working on myself now, trying to figure out who I am without all the lies. I don’t expect forgiveness. I just want you to know that I’m trying.
It was strange reading those words. But I got a sense of closure that I’d thought I’d never get.
A woman reading a letter in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Came to My Wedding and Saw My Mom in a Wedding Dress with a Bouquet
Ever since Nicole began planning her wedding, her mother had gotten very involved. When Nicole asks her to take a step back, she does so. But on the big day, her mother shows up in a wedding dress after mysteriously receiving a call instructing her to. Nicole is left fuming when she discovers who has preyed on her mother’s feelings, ensuring she will destroy them.
When Peter and I got engaged, I promised myself that the wedding planning would be smooth and easy.
A man proposing | Source: Pexels
Growing up, I wasn’t like the other girls who spent their time daydreaming about their weddings. I just knew that it would eventually happen one day, and I would need cupcakes at my wedding reception.
That was it.
A little girl playing dress up | Source: Pexels
So, I always knew that when it came to the actual event, I would need my mother to guide me.
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.
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