When Belinda jokes about skipping her SIL’s strict vegetarian Thanksgiving, her husband Jeremy’s reaction is anything but funny. His sudden anger and ultimatum for divorce leave her reeling. As tensions rise, Belinda uncovers secrets that hint at a far deeper betrayal hidden in plain sight.
Thanksgiving was supposed to be family time, right? But this year, it felt more like I was heading into a battle I didn’t sign up for.
A troubled woman | Source: Midjourney
It started with my sister-in-law, Amy’s text announcing that she’d be hosting Thanksgiving this year, and that it would be a strictly vegetarian meal. This wasn’t a suggestion, mind you, but a declaration.
I couldn’t help but laugh as I stared at the words on my phone screen: No meat or animal products allowed! Anyone who doesn’t respect this rule will be kicked out. Trust me, you won’t even miss them once you try my Tofurky roast!
Yeah, right. I’d choked down enough of her cardboard-flavored fake meat experiments since she decided to become vegetarian last year to know better.
A vegetarian burger | Source: Pexels
I could hear her voice in my head as I read the text, all high and haughty, the way she sounds when she’s convinced she’s right about something.
“Can you believe Amy’s Thanksgiving dinner message? Can’t she just make a lentil curry instead of forcing us all to eat that awful faux meat?” I turned to Jeremy, expecting him to chuckle along with me, but he just gave me a look that stopped my laughter dead in its tracks.
“It’s just one meal, Belinda,” he said in a low, tense voice. “You can handle it.”
A tense man sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“I know I can handle it,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “I just don’t want to.”
“Why does everything between you and Amy always have to be such a big deal?” he asked, running a hand through his hair, eyes fixed on some invisible spot on the carpet. “It’s a family holiday, and this is important to Amy. For once, can’t you just do something to make her happy?”
I don’t know whether it was the way he suddenly seemed so rigid, or how his voice took on that edge, but something in me snapped.
A woman with an angry glint in her eye | Source: Midjourney
I was tired of constantly bending to Amy’s needs and whims for every family gathering. Maybe it would’ve been easier if she weren’t so controlling and erratic, but I was tired of riding the roller coaster of being Amy’s sister-in-law.
“Because it’s not about the food, and you know it. Amy always steamrolls everyone else’s plans, and it’s not fair.” I crossed my arms, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. “Jeremy, we could just spend Thanksgiving on our own this year. Make a nice dinner, watch a movie…”
He shook his head like I’d just suggested setting the house on fire.
A solemn and serious man | Source: Midjourney
“We’re not skipping Thanksgiving at Amy’s. It’s… you’re not being supportive, Belinda.” He looked at me, then with tightness around his mouth and tension in his shoulders, he said, “If you can’t be there for my family, maybe… well, maybe you shouldn’t be a part of it anymore.”
My jaw dropped. I felt the blood rush to my face, a mix of shock and anger. “You’d really divorce me over one family dinner?”
“It’s not just dinner,” he muttered, looking away. “It’s about supporting each other.”
A stern-looking man | Source: Midjourney
Supporting each other. Right. Except the support only worked one way, and I always came off as second best to his sister.
But I bit my tongue and swallowed the one thousand things I wanted to shout at him, mostly about his unwavering dedication to Amy, which went beyond the typical brotherly concern.
I’d noticed the late-night calls, and the anxious glances when she was around. But I couldn’t quite figure out how to bring it up without sounding… petty and paranoid.
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. We’ll go to Amy’s Thanksgiving,” I said, but the words tasted bitter.
I could feel the weight of his expectations pressing down, and that weight carried me straight into the storm I had no idea was brewing.
The days leading up to Thanksgiving felt like walking through quicksand — every step heavier than the last. Jeremy seemed to slip away right in front of me.
He was always out early and back late, his shoulders hunched under an invisible weight. I’d never seen him so preoccupied, so completely withdrawn, and the walls he’d put up between us grew thicker by the day.
A woman glancing at her husband | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t just his absence. Money, too, had become strangely tight. I noticed him pulling our bank statements more often, scanning them with an intensity that seemed out of character.
He’d insisted on managing our finances when we first married, saying it made sense since he worked in accounting. Back then, I’d shrugged, trusting him completely.
But now, the way he pored over each line, his brow knitted with worry, stirred a growing unease in me. What was he hiding?
A man drinking coffee and working on his laptop | Source: Pexels
One evening, after he’d gone to bed, I gave in to my instincts and pulled up the details for our joint account on my laptop. Guilt whispered that I was crossing a line, but my need for answers drowned it out.
As I scrolled, my breath hitched. Regular withdrawals, small but persistent, were labeled under a vague “medical expenses.” Doctor’s names cropped up every month, one more than the rest.
I typed the name into my browser. The last thing I expected was to find out that the only doctor in the area with that name was a psychologist.
A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels
My heart pounded. During dinner the next night, I worked up the nerve to ask, “Jeremy, are you… are you in therapy?”
His eyes widened, a flicker of something unnameable darting across his face.
“Yeah, sometimes,” he mumbled, too quickly. His hand fumbled for the edge of the table as if anchoring himself. “It’s just… uh, it’s been a rough year. So much stress.”
My stomach twisted. He was lying. My steady, unflinching husband was lying to me, and I didn’t know why.
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
A few nights before Thanksgiving, I woke to the soft murmur of his voice drifting from the living room. Tiptoeing to the doorway, I held my breath, listening.
“I told you I’d handle it,” he whispered, his voice warm and tender. The way he spoke — so careful, so… intimate — it sent a shiver through me.
“You don’t have to worry,” he assured, the words almost a caress. Then there was a long pause, thick and lingering, before he murmured, “Goodnight, Amy.”
A woman eavesdropping from a doorway | Source: Midjourney
As he hung up, my heart plummeted, thudding painfully in my chest.
Amy. Of course.
I wanted to demand answers, to press him until every last hidden truth unraveled before me, but the words stuck in my throat, a bitter knot of suspicion and fear.
If I pried too far, would I even recognize what I found? Or would the truth change everything I thought I knew about my husband and his relationship with his sister?
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
Jeremy was so different now, a stranger masquerading in the familiar face I’d trusted for years. I could feel the edges of something larger, a whole tangled mess of secrets he’d worked tirelessly to keep buried. But there it was, just beneath the surface, waiting to be exposed.
Thanksgiving Eve dawned gray and somber, casting a dull light over the kitchen where I sat, my stomach a knot of nerves and questions.
I couldn’t stomach the idea of sitting across from Amy, pretending nothing was wrong, stuffing my face with tofu roast while my husband’s lies swirled around us. No, I needed to know what they were up to before I walked through that door.
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
Jeremy entered, his face blank with that practiced calm of his, but I could see a flicker of something when he met my gaze. I waited until we were both settled at the table. The fridge hummed in the background, filling the space between us.
“Jeremy, I need to know.” I kept my voice steady, though inside I was anything but. “Why are you so…committed to Amy?”
His face shifted, and for a moment I saw something raw flicker in his eyes before he blinked it away.
A secretive man | Source: Midjourney
“What are you talking about?” He tried for nonchalance, but his hands were clenched tight, his knuckles white against the tabletop.
“All the secrets, the money, the phone calls in the middle of the night.” My voice wavered as the words spilled out, no longer restrained. “Are you hiding something… something I need to worry about?”
He opened his mouth as if to deny it, then shut it again, his gaze darting around the room like he was searching for an escape. But there was none.
A stunned man | Source: Midjourney
Trapped, he let out a small sigh, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his secrets.
“It’s… complicated,” he murmured.
“Try me,” I said, my voice rising with a mix of desperation and anger. “Whatever it is, I deserve to know.”
A thick silence stretched between us, heavy and unyielding. Finally, Jeremy looked away, his face shadowed, haunted by memories he’d kept hidden from me.
A man avoiding eye contact | Source: Midjourney
“Amy has had a lot of issues. Mental health things. She has bipolar disorder. It was bad a few years ago. Really bad.” He paused, his eyes far away. “She was hospitalized for months and when she got out, I was the only one she trusted. So I was there for her. I made sure she was taken care of and felt supported.”
His words sank into me, each one heavy, each one unraveling my understanding of him a little more. So this was the burden he’d been carrying, alone, without letting me in.
A woman looking at her husband in shock | Source: Midjourney
My anger surged, not at Amy’s demands, but at him. At the lie he’d been living and the betrayal that came from not being trusted enough to share his truth with me.
“And all those expenses? They’re for her, aren’t they?”
He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to look at me. “Yes. Therapy, sometimes groceries… whatever she needs.”
A chill settled over me as I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of his confession suffocating. “So, you’ve been lying to me for our entire marriage. About our money, about everything.”
A woman with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
“It wasn’t lying, Belinda,” he insisted softly, his voice breaking, barely above a whisper. “It was just… keeping the peace. I’m her big brother and Amy’s life has been hard enough without having to face people treating her differently because of her illness. I didn’t think you needed to know about any of this.”
I wanted to scream at him, shake him until he understood the cost of his silence. Instead, I sat there, silent, as the reality of what he’d done washed over me like a tidal wave.
I shook my head, feeling the tears rise, hot and unforgiving.
A tearful woman | Source: Midjourney
“But what about us? Keeping this secret has been tearing us apart, Jeremy. And you’re so focused on Amy and protecting her from everything that you’re willing to lose your wife over Thanksgiving dinner.”
He stared at me, his face a mix of sorrow and regret. “I… I didn’t know it would come to this.”
“Well, here we are.” I took a shaky breath, gathering the last of my resolve. “And Jeremy, you need to make a choice.”
A woman frowning sadly | Source: Midjourney
“Not between Amy and me,” I added. “I would never ask you to abandon your sister. But you need to choose between hiding things and being honest. Between enabling Amy’s controlling behavior and setting healthy boundaries. Between being her caretaker and being my partner.”
The silence that followed felt endless. When Jeremy finally spoke, his voice was thick with tears.
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
“I’m scared,” he admitted. “What if setting boundaries makes her worse? What if she can’t handle it?”
“What if she can?” I countered gently. “What if she’s stronger than you think? What if she needs the chance to stand on her own two feet?”
“I… I don’t know if I can risk losing her.”
A sad man | Source: Midjourney
I stared at Jeremy and sighed. It felt like we were at an impasse with no obvious way forward. Amy couldn’t keep running our lives, but I understood Jeremy’s reluctance to confront his sister.
One thing is clear: we can’t carry on like this. After everything I’d uncovered over the past few days, I wasn’t even sure our marriage was built on a solid enough foundation to be worth saving.
What should I do now?
A conflicted woman | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story: Ten years after vanishing without a trace, Sara’s ex-fiancé, Daniel, reappears on her doorstep with a lawyer, demanding custody of the son he’d abandoned. Secrets unravel as Sara fights to protect the life she built with Adam, and the true reason behind Daniel’s sudden return threatens everything.
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.
My Dad’s Entitled Girlfriend Mocks My Stuttering until She Finds Out Who I Am – It Was Time to Dot the I’s
I thought it was going to be a normal day at work until a stranger mocked me for something I had no control over. When I discovered who the stranger was, I didn’t hold back in calling her out. The best thing about the confrontation was that my father had my back.
I am sure I am not the only person who’s heard that if your partner mistreats service workers, that should be a red flag for your relationship. Their mistreatment is a sign that they look down on people who they feel are beneath them.
A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay
I learned this lesson during a recent and unexpected incident. See, I had been working at this restaurant for a year while busy with my Anthropology studies.
I would whip out my books and study between orders and when it was a slow day in the restaurant. Today was a busy day, and I hadn’t yet had a chance to go through my schoolwork, and worried I’d fall behind.
A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay
Juggling a part-time job and school isn’t easy. On that typical late evening, a middle-aged woman in a red dress walked into the establishment. For some reason, I distinctly felt a twinge of nerves.
She exuded an air of entitlement, and her sharp gaze scanned the room critically. Even so, I approached her with my usual courtesy, ready to take her order. “Good evening! I’m Alice. May I take your order, please?” I greeted her warmly with a broad and inviting smile.
A woman smiling while holding a book | Source: Pexels
I hoped my positive demeanor would calm her down because standing close to her, I could FEEL her bristling with annoyance. Her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down, clearly unimpressed.
I instantly cringed physically as if she’d hit me or touched me unexpectedly. “And what is this new look you’re showing off, young lady? Where is your apron?” she snapped.
I felt a familiar tightening in my throat, my stutter threatening to emerge. “M-ma’am, I, I’m…”
Alice taking an order from Donna | Source: Midjourney
She rolled her eyes dramatically, cutting me off. “I can’t HEAR you! Do you speak normal English? God, I’ll fire you straight away when I own this little shack.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was on the verge of tears as I tried to make sense of her statement. I wondered what she meant by owning the restaurant. I was about to open my mouth to defend myself and the establishment she’d reduced to a “shack,” when something happened.
An emotional woman | Source: Pexels
Just then, my dad’s voice rang out from behind her. “Oh, you already met each other, perfect!”
Met each other? What was he talking about… What happened next became an absolutely gorgeous and memorable moment because the stranger started stuttering!
“H-h-honey, what do you mean?!” she asked, her previous bravado vanishing.
My dad walked over, smiling warmly. “You still don’t get it? This is my daughter, Alice!” he said, pulling me close for a one-armed hug.
A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels
Her face turned a shade of crimson as she looked back at me, her demeanor shifting from arrogant to flustered in a heartbeat! At that moment, I realized the MOST interesting part of the evening was about to begin!
The thought of crying was long gone as my father’s presence bolstered me. “Please, continue with what you were saying, ma’am. What were you saying you were going to do after you fired me when you own, what did you call it again? Ah yes! This shack?” I asked, grinning widely.
A woman smiling while holding a notebook | Source: Pexels
She stammered, trying to salvage the situation. “Oh, darling, you didn’t get the gist of what I was saying.”
“What were you saying, Donna?” my father asked as he started putting two and two together.
“Well, darling, of course, I was just j-j-joking!”
The woman punctuated the last word with a fake smile that convinced no one!
I raised an eyebrow, mimicking her earlier tone. “Oh, what’s wrong with YOUR English? So you can s-s-stutter and others can’t?”
An upset woman with a raised eyebrow | Source: Freepik
My dad stood there, speechless, trying to process the situation.
I took a deep breath and turned to him, my heart pounding. “Dad, I’m sorry, but it seems like your taste in women failed after Mom.”
Donna reached out to him, but he stepped back, his expression hardening. “Please, honey, you have to understand. It was all a misunderstanding,” she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.
Donna defending herself while Alice looks on | Source: Midjourney
He shook his head, his disappointment evident. “I simply CAN NOT believe you’d talk like that with my daughter. Moreover, you didn’t know it was her, so that’s how you talk to service people?”
Donna’s eyes widened with desperation as she realized that things were backfiring on her.
I stood opposite my dad with a smug look and arms folded as I listened to their back and forth.
A father and his daughter standing with folded arms | Source: Freepik
“No, no, I didn’t MEAN it that way. I just… I was having a bad day!” she exclaimed, sounding exasperated.
“Even a bad day wouldn’t excuse your behavior, Donna. You showed me your true colors,” my father said, his words marked with sadness.
“And those colors aren’t very pretty,” I added, siding with my dad.
A disappointed woman | Source: Freepik
“Please, give me another chance. I promise I’ll do and be better,” Donna begged softly, her voice breaking as all her arrogance went out the door. She never expected to get caught showing her true self.
A part of me felt sorry for her. It was clear from how she was reacting that she loved my dad, but how she treated me said a lot about her character. I wondered how many more people she had abused while they rendered services to her.
An unhappy woman holding a notebook | Source: Pexels
Whether she loved my dad or not didn’t matter if she wasn’t a good person and, as they say, “First impressions last.”
My dad looked at her with a mixture of sadness and resolve. “No, I think it’s best if we part ways. I can’t be with someone who disrespects my daughter and others like that.”
“Goodbye, and enjoy your last meal here, because I don’t think you’ll be welcome back,” I said, feeling a surge of confidence.
A woman smiling while standing next to her father | Source: Freepik
Donna’s face twisted in anger and humiliation as she opened her mouth to say something. But she thought against it before storming out of the restaurant. My dad turned to me, his expression softening. “I’m so sorry, Alice. I had no idea she was like that.”
“It’s okay, Dad. I’m just glad you know now,” I replied, feeling a wave of relief.
We hugged, and the other patrons in the restaurant, who had been quietly watching the scene, began to clap. I felt a surge of pride, knowing I stood up for myself and that my dad had my back. His entitled girlfriend was gone, and my dad and I could move forward without her toxic presence.
A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels
As the evening wound down, the restaurant became quieter. My dad and I sat at one of the tables, sharing a cup of coffee. The confrontation was still fresh in our minds, and we found solace in each other’s company.
“Dad, why did you never tell her about me?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
He sighed, stirring his coffee absentmindedly. “I wanted to, but it never seemed like the right time. I didn’t think she’d react like that.”
A sad father talking to his daughter | Source: Pexels
“Well, now you know,” I said, a hint of bitterness creeping into my voice. “It’s not the first time someone has mocked my stutter, but it hurt more coming from someone you cared about.”
He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. “I’m so proud of you, my angel. You’ve grown into such a strong and resilient young woman.”
His words warmed my heart, and I smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels
“I noticed how heartbroken you were to have to end your relationship. I am sorry, Dad,” I said, reaching out to hug him tightly.
“Thanks, pumpkin,” he smiled. “I did love her. We were together for almost a year, and I thought she was the one until today.”
I was sad for my father but secretly relieved that Donna didn’t become my stepmother. Something told me that my stutter would have been the least of my worries when it came to that rude woman. But luckily, fate played a good hand for me.
A sad father with his daughter | Source: Pexels
As the evening progressed, we talked about everything and nothing. The restaurant staff, who had seen the earlier drama, gave me nods of approval and supportive smiles. I felt a newfound sense of belonging and acceptance.
A few days later, life at the restaurant returned to normal. The regulars came and went, the kitchen buzzed with activity, and the waitstaff moved swiftly to keep up with the dinner rush. I felt a renewed sense of purpose and confidence in my work.
Happy patrons at a restaurant | Source: Pexels
Later that night, as I was cleaning up, my dad approached me with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve been thinking about what happened with Donna,” he said.
I looked up from wiping down a table. “Yeah?”
“I realized that I’ve been too focused on finding someone new, and I haven’t been paying enough attention to you,” he admitted.
“Dad, it’s okay. I want you to be happy,” I replied, meaning every word.
A daughter comforting her father | Source: Pexels
He shook his head. “No, it’s not okay. I need to be there for YOU more. You’ve always been there for me, and I want to do the same for you.”
I felt a lump in my throat, touched by his sincerity. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”
We hugged again, and I knew our bond had grown stronger through this experience. The restaurant became more than just a place of work; it was a place of growth, resilience, and family.
A father and his daughter embracing | Source: Pexels
The incident with Donna reminded me that people’s true colors always come out eventually. My dad’s ex-girlfriend learned that lesson the hard way. That mocking others, especially family, has consequences. And for me, it was a sweet victory, knowing I stood up for myself!
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