My world turned upside down when my husband disappeared without leaving any trace, only a cryptic note remained. Several days later, I received a call from his mother that revealed a shocking secret, which shook me to my core. Where is Matthew?
“Matthew? This isn’t a joke, where are you?” I called out, expecting to hear his voice from another room.
But the house was quiet, apart from the soft hum of the refrigerator.
My heart started pounding as I saw a note on the kitchen table.
It read, “Don’t search for me.”
I stared at the message, hoping it was just a joke. Matthew loved pranks, but this felt different. I grabbed my phone and dialed his number, only to hear it go directly to voicemail.
“Matthew, call me back,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “This isn’t funny.”
Next, I contacted his mother. “Hi, it’s Abbie. Have you heard from Matthew?”
“No, dear,” Claire responded. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, yes, it is. Sorry, I suppose he just went out for a walk.”
I ended the call and tried his best friend, James.
“No, Abbie, we haven’t heard from him,” James replied with concern mirroring mine.
Matthew never came back.
The children kept asking, “Where’s Daddy?”
I didn’t know how to answer them. I finally went to the police, clutching the note tightly.
“Ma’am, with the note he left, we can’t begin a search,” said the officer.
“But he’s missing!” I argued, feeling a lump rise in my throat. “What if something happened to him?”
The officer shook his head. “Adults are allowed to disappear if they choose. There’s nothing we can do.”
I left feeling helpless and alone.
Returning home to our quiet suburban house that now felt eerie and empty, I gathered the kids in the living room.
“Kids, I need to tell you something,” I said, voice trembling. “Daddy… he’s gone for a while.”
“Why, Mommy?” my youngest asked.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I replied, pulling her close. “But we need to stay strong, okay?”
The following days blurred together with tears and unanswered questions. Everything in the house reminded me of Matthew.
His favorite coffee mug on the counter, his shoes by the door, the jacket he always wore hanging in the closet.
I tried to keep life normal for the children, but every time they asked about their father, my heart broke further.
Then one day, I received a call from my mother-in-law.
“If you want to know the truth, promise me you won’t tell Matthew,” her voice cracked through the FaceTime call, breaking the quiet.
“Promise? What’s going on?” I asked, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach.
“Matthew is here at my house. With his mistress and their newborn,” she revealed.
Horrified, I responded, “What? How could he do this?”
“Matthew told me to keep it secret from you,” she continued. “His mistress had nowhere else to go, so he brought her here. He’s planning to use money from your joint account to rent them a place. He says he’s going to divorce you and stay with her. She’s… barely 19.”
I felt as if the ground had shifted beneath me. Tears blurred my vision as I struggled to process her words.
“He… he’s what?” I managed to whisper.
“I’m sorry for lying about his location and not telling you sooner,” she said softly. “I didn’t know what else to do because he’s my son, and I needed time to think. But you’re family to me and the mother of my grandchildren who I love. That’s why I told you the truth. Abbie, you still have time. You can hire a lawyer and save money for your children.”
I was trembling, overwhelmed with feelings of betrayal and anger.
“I can’t believe this,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “Thank you for telling me. I have to protect my children and myself.”
After ending the call, I sat in silence, overwhelmed by the reality that my husband, whom I trusted deeply, planned to leave us for another woman.
The children noticed my distress. “Mommy, where’s Daddy?” asked my youngest, her eyes wide with confusion.
“He’s not coming back, sweetheart,” I responded, hugging her tightly. “But we have each other, and we’ll get through this.”
I could hardly believe what I had heard from her mother, but I knew I had to keep moving forward for my kids. I contacted a lawyer immediately.
While discussing my options, I received an unknown call. I hesitated before answering.
“Hello?” I said cautiously.
“Hi, Abbie? It’s Lisa. I’m the woman Matthew has been seeing. I need to talk to you,” came the voice.
A chill ran down my spine. “How dare you!” I snapped. “How dare you call me?”
“Please, meet me. There’s something you need to know, something important. It concerns your family,” she pleaded.
I was furious but sensing her distress, I agreed. “Alright. Where should we meet?”
“That old café on Street 8, at 6 p.m. Does that work?” she asked.
At exactly 6 p.m., I arrived at the café, searching for her face. Seeing her sitting in a corner booth, I couldn’t believe Matthew could have been involved with someone so young.
“Thank you for coming,” she said as I took a seat.
“Why did you want to meet?” I inquired.
“Matthew told me he was going to leave you, but I didn’t realize he’d abandon you like this. I didn’t agree with any of it,” she explained.
“Why should I trust you?” I asked, crossing my arms defensively.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of papers.
“These are emails and messages from Matthew. He said terrible things about you, things I know aren’t true. He’s been manipulating both of us.”
I took the papers and started reading.
My hands shook with anger as I saw the lies exposed. “I can’t believe this,” I muttered, my head shaking.
Lisa looked at me earnestly. “He’s planning to take everything from you. But I want no part of it. I want to help you.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, stunned.
“Because I didn’t realize how bad he was until it was too late. I want to make things right, even in a small way,” she replied, tears forming in her eyes.
Looking at her, I saw genuine remorse and desperation. Maybe she was telling the truth.
“Fine,” I said slowly. “If you’re serious, we need to gather more proof. I have to protect my children and secure our future.”
We spent the next hour talking about her information and planning what to do. Lisa seemed willing to help, which gave me some hope despite everything.
The next morning, in my lawyer’s office, I said, “We need to face him together. First, I want to protect my finances and prevent him from taking anything else.”
“With what Lisa provided, we can freeze the joint accounts and safeguard your assets,” said Kate.
She started the paperwork to secure my belongings and freeze the accounts. It felt like a race against time, but I knew we had to act fast.
Every detail Lisa shared was critical.
One evening, I sat at the kitchen table, paperwork before me. My mother-in-law had come to help with the kids. She brought me tea and sat across from me.
“You’re doing the right thing, Abbie,” she said softly. “I’m sorry for what my son is doing to you.”
“Matthew is the only one responsible for this,” I replied, drinking the tea. “No one saw this coming, not even Lisa.”
“You’re stronger than you think,” she reassured me, squeezing my hand gently. “I’m with you all the way.”
Finally, the day arrived to take legal action. I took a deep breath and approached my mother-in-law’s door with Lisa by my side, police officers close behind to enforce our legal measures.
Matthew looked up as I entered, shocked.
“Abbie, what are you doing here?” he asked, eyes shifting nervously.
“It’s over, Matthew,” I said firmly. “We know everything—the lies, the betrayals, the plans. You can’t escape.”
“What’s this? You can’t do this to me!” he yelled, red-faced with anger.
Lisa stepped forward, voice calm but firm. “We already have. You won’t hurt anyone else.”
The officers displayed the official documents.
“Mr. Johnson, come with us. You’re served with a restraining order and eviction notice,” one said.
He looked around, his bravado fading. “This isn’t fair,” he muttered as he tried to protest.
“Oh, it’s fair,” I replied, holding up the divorce papers. “You made your choices. Now face the consequences.”
As they led him out, relief and exhaustion washed over me. I turned to Lisa and my mother-in-law, who stood by my side, unwavering.
“Thank you,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
This time, the tears were tears of hope and gratitude. It was time to rebuild and move forward.