It was supposed to be a special day—our first wedding anniversary, and I couldn’t wait to share the big news with my husband, Ben: we were finally pregnant. I’d planned every detail for the evening. The restaurant was the same place where we had our wedding reception. I even wore the dress I’d worn that day, imagining Ben’s face lighting up when I’d tell him we were going to be parents.
I got to the restaurant early, brimming with excitement. I ordered a glass of water and sat at the table, watching the door eagerly, waiting for Ben to walk in. The minutes ticked by, but he didn’t show. I checked my phone repeatedly—no messages. At first, I thought maybe something came up at work, or perhaps he was stuck in traffic.
After half an hour, I tried calling him. My calls went straight to voicemail. With each passing minute, anxiety replaced my excitement. Maybe he’d just lost track of time, I told myself, but deep down, a sense of dread was growing.
After an hour of waiting, I couldn’t sit still any longer. I paid the bill and rushed home, my mind racing with possibilities. Was he hurt? Did something terrible happen? Or worse, was he leaving me?
When I pulled into the driveway, my heart sank. The house was dark, and Ben’s car was gone. I rushed inside, calling out for him, but the silence was eerie. That’s when I noticed it—a plain white envelope on the kitchen counter. My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a single, cryptic line: “Your grandma made me do this. Bye forever, Becca.”
My world spun. I couldn’t understand what was happening. My grandma? What did she have to do with Ben leaving? I immediately tried calling him again, but his phone was still off. In a panic, I dialed my grandma’s number. She answered after a few rings, and I demanded to know what she had done.
Her response was calm, almost too calm, and it chilled me to the bone. “I had to do what’s best for you, Becca,” she said matter-of-factly. “Ben isn’t the right man for you. Deep down, you’ve always known that.”
I was stunned. “What are you talking about? He’s my husband! I love him, and I’m pregnant!” My voice cracked as I yelled, the betrayal sinking in.
“Oh, honey,” she replied with a patronizing sigh. “I’ve always wanted you to end up with someone more suitable—someone like Charlie.” The mention of Charlie, a man my grandmother had been trying to set me up with for years, sent a wave of nausea through me.
“You blackmailed Ben into leaving me, didn’t you?” I demanded, tears streaming down my face.
She didn’t deny it. “I told him that if he truly loved you, he would leave so you could have a better life. If he didn’t, well, I made it clear there would be no inheritance for you.”
I couldn’t believe it. The woman I had trusted and loved had destroyed my marriage. Heartbroken, I stormed out of her house, feeling more alone than ever. My husband was gone, and I was left with nothing but the haunting silence of an empty home.