He belittled his unemployed wife for “doing nothing,” but when an ambulance took her away, he found a note that shattered his world: she wanted a divorce. Can he save their family before it’s too late?
On a crisp October morning, Tom was buzzing about his tech startup pitch, a project he’d slaved over for months. At breakfast, he barely noticed his wife, Laura, or their boys, Jack and Finn, engrossed in his phone.
“Morning, love,” Laura said softly.
“Hi, Daddy!” the boys echoed.
Tom grabbed a bagel, muttering, “Where’s my blue tie?”
“In the laundry with the other colors,” Laura answered.
Storming into the kitchen, Tom snapped, “That’s my lucky tie! I need it today!”
“You’ve got other ties,” Laura said calmly. “It wasn’t enough for a full load.”
“It’s a huge day, and you’re slacking?” Tom shot back.
“Slacking?” Laura frowned. “It’s just a tie, Tom. Your pitch is what counts.”
“You’re calling my work ‘just’ a pitch?” he yelled. “I’ve been killing myself for months!”
“Watch it—the kids,” Laura warned.
“You sit home all day, doing nothing,” Tom spat. “Can’t even handle one simple thing. You’re a lousy wife.”
“Stop it,” Laura said, voice tight. “You’re scaring the boys.”
“Lousy wife,” he repeated, grabbing his bag and storming out in a mismatched suit.
After nailing his pitch and earning a promotion, Tom expected Laura’s usual post-fight call. It never came. He bought her favorite lilies and headed home, only to find the house empty. A note on the counter read, “I’m done. I want a divorce.”
Panicked, Tom called Laura’s sister, Mia, who snapped, “She’s in the hospital, Tom. You said she wasn’t ‘wife enough’?”
At the hospital, the doctor said, “Mild heart scare. She’s stable but needs rest. Ten minutes.”
Tom approached Laura, forcing a smile. “Babe, I’m so sorry—”
“I’m done,” Laura cut in, eyes cold. “I want a divorce.”
“What? You’re overreacting,” Tom stammered.
“I gave up my career for you,” she said. “I’m 32, but I feel broken. I hate you, Tom.”
“What about the boys?” he asked.
“I can’t provide for them now,” she said. “They stay with you.”
Tom left, stunned, picking up Jack and Finn from Mia’s. At home, he ordered burgers, tucked them in, and called his friend Nate, who said, “She’ll come around.”
The next morning, Tom burned toast, set off the smoke alarm, and scrambled to get the kids to school. “It’s fine,” he told them as they asked, “Where’s Mommy?”
Late for a meeting, he mumbled, “Traffic.” That evening, Laura’s clothes and photos were gone. Mia confirmed, “She left you, Tom. You took her for granted.”
Five months later, Tom struggled as a single dad. His work slipped, and his boss, Mr. Carter, called him out over drinks. “You’re missing deadlines, Tom. We’re a business.”
“Fire me?” Tom joked weakly.
“It’s not my call,” Carter said. “You’re out, but I’ll write you a recommendation.”
Devastated, Tom’s phone rang. It was Laura. “Can we talk? 5 p.m. at our old café?”
At the café, Laura, now in therapy, demanded custody. “I’m their mom. I have rights.”
“You left us!” Tom snapped. “They’re settled with me.”
“I deserve them,” Laura said. “We’ll settle this in court.”
At the custody hearing, Laura’s lawyer grilled Tom. “Did you mock your wife for ‘doing nothing’ at home?”
“I was stressed,” Tom admitted. “I said things I regret.”
“Were you fired for neglecting work?” the lawyer pressed.
“Yes,” Tom said, glancing at Laura’s teary eyes. “I couldn’t balance it all. But I love my kids. I’m freelancing now, editing apps.”
Laura took the stand. “Tom was generous, never violent. But he ignored me—my dreams, my feelings. I had a breakdown and left to heal. I’m stable now, working as a decorator.”
“Why should we trust you won’t leave again?” Tom’s lawyer asked.
“I won’t,” Laura vowed. “My boys are everything.”
The judge granted Laura custody, with Tom allowed two days a week and $800 monthly support. When Laura came for the boys, Jack pulled away. “You’re breaking us up!”
“We want Mommy and Daddy!” Finn cried.
Laura broke, hugging them tightly with Tom, tears falling as their family’s pain spilled over.
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