Abbie’s life felt like it was being ripped apart when her husband, Matthew, vanished without a trace. One moment, everything seemed normal, and the next, he was gone, leaving behind a note that offered no explanation—just a chilling message that would haunt her for days.
“Matthew? This isn’t funny, where are you?” I called out, my voice echoing through the empty house. I was certain he’d answer from somewhere nearby, maybe from the living room or the kitchen. But the silence stretched on.
The hum of the refrigerator was the only sound breaking the stillness. My eyes scanned the room, landing on a note lying casually on the kitchen table.
I walked over, my heart pounding. It read, “Don’t search for me.”
A chill crawled up my spine. Could it be a joke? Matthew had always been the one to play pranks, but something about this note felt different. This wasn’t like him. I reached for my phone and dialed his number, hoping to hear his voice.
But instead of a cheerful greeting, I was met with the cold, mechanical beep of voicemail.
“Matthew, call me back,” I said, forcing my voice to sound steady, though inside I was falling apart. “This isn’t funny.”
I immediately called his mother, Claire. Maybe she knew something.
“Hi, it’s Abbie,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Have you heard from Matthew?”
“No, dear,” Claire’s voice was calm, but I could hear a trace of concern. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, yes. I think he just went out for a walk,” I lied, hoping it wasn’t true.
I hung up and tried calling James, Matthew’s best friend. Maybe he knew something.
“No, Abbie, we haven’t heard from him either,” James said, his voice filled with worry. “Are the kids alright?”
“Yes, they’re fine, James. We’ll be okay,” I replied, trying to convince myself more than him.
But Matthew didn’t come home. The days passed, each one more unbearable than the last. The kids kept asking, “Where’s Daddy?” and my heart broke a little more each time.
I had no answers for them.
I had no answers for myself.
I finally made my way to the police station, clutching the note in my hand. The officer behind the desk barely glanced at it before shaking his head.
“Ma’am, with the note he left, we can’t start a search,” the officer said, his voice cold.
“But he’s missing!” I protested, my voice rising. “What if something happened to him?”
He sighed, glancing at the paperwork in front of him. “I’m sorry, but adults have the right to disappear if they choose. There’s nothing we can do.”
I left the station feeling more lost than before. Helpless.
Back home, our cozy suburban house now felt cold, empty. I sat the kids down in the living room.
“Kids, I need to tell you something,” I began, my voice shaking as I tried to hold myself together. “Daddy is… he’s gone away for a while.”
“Why, Mommy?” my youngest asked, her face scrunching up with confusion.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I said, pulling her close. “But we’ll stay strong. We have each other, okay?”
The days blurred together—tears, unanswered calls, endless silence. Every room seemed to be filled with reminders of Matthew. His favorite coffee mug sat abandoned on the counter. His shoes lay next to the door, untouched. His jacket hung in the closet, waiting for him to come home.
But he never did.
Then, just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I received a call that would change everything.
“Abbie, if you want to know the truth, promise me you won’t tell Matthew anything,” Claire’s voice broke through the crackling FaceTime call.
I froze. “Promise? What’s going on?”
Claire’s face was strained, her eyes filled with regret. “Matthew is here, at my house. He’s with his mistress and their newborn baby.”
I felt like the ground had just been ripped from under me.
“What?” I whispered, not sure if I had heard her correctly.
Claire nodded, her voice heavy with sorrow. “He told me to keep it a secret, but I can’t lie to you anymore. He’s planning to take money from your joint account to rent them an apartment. He’s going to divorce you, Abbie, and he’s staying with her. She’s barely 19.”
The room spun. My thoughts scattered, trying to catch up with the storm inside me. “I… I don’t believe this.”
“I’m so sorry, Abbie,” Claire said softly. “I never knew what to do, but I had to tell you the truth. You deserve to know. You have time to get a lawyer and protect yourself and the kids.”
Her words hit me like a slap to the face. Betrayal. Deceit. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. My husband, the man I trusted, had been living a double life.
“Thank you for telling me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I need to protect my children… and myself.”
When I hung up, I felt like I was suffocating. Matthew, my husband, the father of my children, was leaving us. And for a girl who was barely out of high school.
The kids sensed something was wrong. “Mommy, where’s Daddy?” my youngest asked again, her eyes wide with worry.
“He’s not coming back, sweetheart,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. I pulled her close, trying to shield her from the hurt. “But we have each other. We’ll be okay.”
I couldn’t sit still. I needed answers, I needed justice. I reached out to a lawyer, ready to fight for my kids, for my future.
As I sat in my lawyer’s office, a phone call interrupted me. An unknown number.
“Hello?” I said, cautious.
“Hi, Abbie?” came a voice I didn’t recognize. “It’s Lisa. I need to talk to you.”
My stomach churned. “How dare you call me?” I hissed.
“I understand you’re angry, but please hear me out,” Lisa pleaded, her voice shaky. “I’m not the enemy here. There’s something important you need to know. It’s about your family.”
I hesitated but something in her voice made me listen. “Alright. Where do you want to meet?”
“Do you know that old café on Street 8? 6 p.m. Does that work?”
I agreed, though every step I took felt like I was walking into a trap. At 6 p.m. sharp, I walked into the café. And there she was—Lisa. Matthew’s mistress. The girl who had stolen him away. She looked so much younger than I imagined.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need to tell you the truth. Matthew’s been lying to both of us. He told me he was going to leave you, but I never thought it would go this far.”
“Why should I believe you?” I asked, folding my arms tightly.
She pulled out a stack of papers and slid them toward me. “These are emails, texts—Matthew’s been telling me awful things about you. Things I know aren’t true. He’s been playing both of us.”
My hands shook as I looked over the papers, seeing the lies laid bare. Betrayal. Manipulation. “I can’t believe this.”
Lisa’s eyes filled with tears. “He’s planning to take everything from you. But I don’t want that. I want to help you.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
“Because I didn’t know what kind of man he was until it was too late. I want to make things right, at least in some way,” she said, tears running down her cheeks.
I stared at her. For a moment, I saw the same pain in her eyes that I felt in my heart.
“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath. “If you’re serious, we need to gather everything. Evidence. Proof. I need to protect my children, and I need to protect myself.”
We spent hours discussing our next steps. Lisa and I formed an unlikely alliance. It was strange, trusting the woman who had been involved with my husband, but somehow, it felt like the only way forward.
The next morning, I met with my lawyer, Kate.
“We have everything we need,” I said, my voice steady now. “Let’s freeze the accounts and make sure he can’t take anything from us.”
Kate nodded, determined. “With Lisa’s information, we can protect your assets.”
That night, as I sat at the kitchen table, paperwork spread out in front of me, my mother-in-law came over. She brought me tea and sat beside me, her presence comforting.
“You’re doing the right thing, Abbie,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I’m so sorry for what Matthew is doing to you.”
“Only Matthew can be blamed for this, Claire. Nobody saw this coming, not even Lisa,” I replied. “Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’re stronger than you think,” she said softly. “And I’ll always be here for you.”
Finally, the day came. We had everything in place. I stood at my mother-in-law’s door with Lisa beside me, the police close behind. This was it—the moment of truth.
Matthew looked up in shock when we entered. “Abbie, what are you doing here?” he demanded, his eyes darting nervously between me and Lisa.
“It’s over, Matthew,” I said firmly. “We know everything. Your lies, your betrayal. You won’t get away with it.”
“What is this? You can’t do this to me!” he yelled, his face red with anger.
Lisa stepped forward, her voice steady. “We already have. You’re not going to hurt anyone else.”
The officers moved in, holding out the legal papers. “Mr. Johnson, you need to come with us. You’re being served with a restraining order and an order to vacate the premises.”
Matthew’s bravado crumbled. “This isn’t fair,” he muttered, trying to come up with an excuse.
“Oh, it’s perfectly fair, ex-husband,” I said, holding up the divorce papers. “You made your choices. Now face the consequences.”
As the officers escorted him out, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. My heart was heavy, but there was a sense of relief. I turned to Lisa and Claire, both standing by me through this storm.
“Thank you,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to hope again. It was time to rebuild. Time to move forward. Time to be free.