Couple Divorces after 56 Years of Marriage Because Man Thinks They Are Too Old for Romance – Story of the Day

Erin and Mike got married at 20 and had the best marriage anyone could want. But at 76 years old, Mike realized they were too old for all that romance, mainly because it was one-sided. Erin was heartbroken and asked for a divorce, but a shocking event happened.

“I don’t understand why you don’t bring me flowers anymore,” Erin whined to her husband, Mike, one day. After 56 years of marriage, her husband had suddenly stopped being romantic, something that had made their relationship the envy of everyone they knew.

“Erin, you are not going to die if I don’t bring flowers every day,” Mike answered from his place on the couch, his hand grabbing the remote control to flip a channel.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Erin was displeased. “But that’s not fair. For the past month, you’ve stopped every single romantic gesture. What’s happening? Are you having an affair? AT OUR AGE?” she exclaimed in outrage, placing her hands on her waist.

“For God’s sake, Erin. It’s been decades since we got married, and I’ve given you something every day since. But I stop for a while and suddenly I’m cheating on you? Are you crazy?” Mike asked, focusing on his wife.

“I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND! DON’T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?” Erin yelled.

Mike stood up from the couch at that question and looked at his wife seriously. “Maybe I’m tired of being the only one making some sort of romantic gesture!” he blurted. “56 years, Erin! For 56 years, I was the only one expressing any kind of romance. I invite you on dates. I buy flowers. I buy gifts. I do EVERYTHING! And you simply take everything and give nothing back!”

Erin’s mouth dropped at her husband’s words, but Mike didn’t stick around to see it and went out for a walk to cool down.

Meanwhile, she slumped on the kitchen table and thought back to their marriage. Mike was not entirely wrong. She never asked him on dates or bought him much. Erin could excuse her behavior, saying that they were born in a different time, where the men made all the effort in the romance aspect. But that was a cheap cop-out.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Erin thought maintaining their home, cooking, and raising their children was enough. But their kids had moved away many years ago. She still cleaned and cooked, but clearly, her husband had all the pressure of keeping their spark alive. That was unfair to him, so Erin decided to change a few things.

When Mike returned, she asked him on a date and was going to pay. However, her husband refused.

“I don’t want to do that right now,” he said, going to their room and barely speaking to her that night.

Fair enough, Erin thought. Mike was angry at her, but she could be patient and wait for his anger to subside.

Unfortunately, nothing she did appeased him. Mike would not accept her tries at romantic gestures and grew angry every time she insisted. Erin bought him some flowers at one point, and he frowned at them.

“These are more for you, right?” Mike asked, still frowning and quirking one eyebrow. “You don’t have to keep doing these things, Erin. We are already too old for this.”

“What do you mean? I’m trying to give back what I haven’t in 56 years. Why can’t you accept it?” Erin snapped back, raising her hands at her sides. She was completely confused by his attitude now. Wasn’t this was he asked for?

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Because this is not what I wanted. I just want us to relax and stop trying so hard. We’re old. We’ve had more than enough romance in our lives. Now, it’s time to just… be,” Mike replied, giving her the flowers back and going to the porch for a smoke.

Erin looked at him sitting outside, and her heart broke. She couldn’t deal with it. She didn’t understand why he suddenly didn’t want any romance. Is there an expiration date for love? Erin thought glumly, walking back to her room.

She tried to make this new arrangement work, but it was hard. Mike didn’t kiss or hug her as often. Suddenly, she was also shy around him. That had not happened in half a century. Two months passed since then, and it simply wasn’t working.

Therefore, Erin asked him for a divorce. She couldn’t live with someone she didn’t love.

Mike was shocked but agreed to move while Erin stayed in their house. Their son, Henry, took him in, although this new arrangement concerned the rest of their children. Their two daughters, Alexandra and Marissa, tried to change Erin’s mind, but their mother was determined.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“If the romance is over, there’s no reason to be married,” she told her girls stubbornly. Shortly after, Erin filed for divorce, and a few months later, it was finalized.

Mike was still at Henry’s house when the landline rang. Henry’s wife answered and suddenly exclaimed, “What?!”

The older man looked up from his novel, focusing on his son’s wife, as she turned to look at him with the most concerned expression on her face. “Ok, we’ll be right there,” she said to the phone and hung up. “Mike, we have to go to the hospital. Erin just had a heart attack!”

Mike’s eyes widened in surprise before he went into action. He rushed to his jacket, throwing his book and reading glasses away.

When they reached the hospital, the doctor explained that Erin was alright but couldn’t move much. Mike sat down beside her and never left. He hand-fed her and kept her company. When she was discharged, he refused to leave their house, claiming that he was there to help.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

But Henry, Marissa, and Alexandra knew the truth. Their dad was back home because he loved their mother and never stopped despite the divorce. Soon enough, the flowers and the romantic gestures kept coming again.

And when Erin got better, she returned the gestures so that Mike would never feel slighted ever again. They rekindled their romance and remarried on what would’ve been their original 58th anniversary.

What can we learn from this story?

  • Reciprocation is essential in any relationship. Both partners must work hard to maintain a relationship.
  • Find out your spouse’s love language. Some people love giving gifts, and others prefer acts of service. It’s crucial to find out what your partner likes before creating problems.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

I Fell Asleep in the Back Seat of a Taxi on Christmas Eve – When I Woke Up, I Was in the Garage of a Strange House

Christmas Eve always carried a weight I could never shake. As I slid into the back seat of the taxi, the world around me blurred into sleep, and I let it. When I awoke, it wasn’t to the sight of home, but to a cold, abandoned room.

The sterile white lights of the hospital hallway buzzed above me, a constant reminder of my exhaustion from back-to-back night shifts. Christmas Eve in the ER was no different from any other day—chaotic, loud, and unforgiving.

Tired female nurse | Source: Midjourney

Tired female nurse | Source: Midjourney

But tonight, there was a promise of something waiting at home: Jeremy, my boyfriend of four years, a man who could light up the darkest room with his smile.

“Hey, you done?” He had called just before my shift ended, excitement brimming in his voice. “I got the tree lit, cider on the stove, and even put on that ridiculous sweater you hate. You’re gonna love it.”

I forced a laugh, the kind that came naturally when he talked about Christmas. Jeremy adored the holiday. It was in his DNA, something passed down through generations of festive gatherings with his family.

Family celebrating Christmas | Source: Midjourney

Family celebrating Christmas | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to love it too. But Christmas to me was an empty chair at a table I never got to sit at. It was just a reminder of the hollow space where my parents should have been. Growing up in an orphanage, I’d learned only bits and pieces about my parents: my mother had died when I was young, and I didn’t know much about my dad.

So for me, Christmas wasn’t a celebration; it was an ache, a reminder of everything I’d lost before I could even understand what it meant.

I shook off the thought and stepped outside, shivering as the winter air hit me. Just then, a yellow cab pulled up to the curb. The driver leaned over, gave a small nod, and smiled as if he knew me. “Megan?”

Nurse standing next to a yellow taxi | Source: Midjourney

Nurse standing next to a yellow taxi | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, that’s me.” I opened the back door and slid in, the leather seats cool beneath me. The exhaustion that had settled in my bones for the past 48 hours took over, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

It was the sudden silence that woke me. I blinked, expecting to see the familiar blur of streetlights through rain-slicked windows.

Instead, darkness surrounded me, oppressive and still. My breath quickened, and I realized the driver was gone. The taxi, too, was eerily still, parked in what looked like an abandoned garage.

Worried woman inside a taxi | Source: Midjourney

Worried woman inside a taxi | Source: Midjourney

“Hello?” My voice came out weak, swallowed by the shadows.

I reached for my phone, but my fingers met an empty pocket. Panic shot up my spine as I heard it—a faint creak that cut through the silence. A thin line of light stretched across the floor as the door slowly opened, and in its glow, I saw a silhouette.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I strained to make sense of where I was. The cab, once a safe, familiar space, now felt like a cage.

Worried woman inside a taxi | Source: Midjourney

Worried woman inside a taxi | Source: Midjourney

“Hello?” I called again, louder this time, but the silence pressed back, heavier than before. The beam of light grew, inch by inch until it fell on the face of a stranger.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice cracking.

The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, the door creaking wider behind him. As he moved into the dim light, I could see the sharp angles of his face. His coat was thick and dark, the kind worn to keep out a bitter chill.

Man in an abandoned garage | Source: Midjourney

Man in an abandoned garage | Source: Midjourney

“Megan Price, right?” His voice was low, and practiced, like he knew he needed to keep it steady to control the situation.

“Why do you know my name?” I shifted in the back seat, my fingers brushing the door handle.

He exhaled, almost impatiently, and glanced at the cab, then back at me. “You’re not in any danger. I need you to come with me. There’s something you need to know.”

I laughed sarcastically. “Is that what people say when they’re about to kidnap someone? Because it’s not very reassuring.”

Scared young woman | Source: Midjourney

Scared young woman | Source: Midjourney

“To be honest,” he said, voice thick with something that made my chest constrict, “I was against the fact that we scared you so much. Your boyfriend made it all up.” His smile was a shaky mask, an attempt to soften the bombshell he was about to drop.

My mind stumbled over the words, trying to piece together the implications. Jeremy? My confusion surged into anger, hot and immediate. “What do you mean, my boyfriend made it up? Who are you?” My voice cracked as the last word tumbled out, raw and desperate.

Scared young woman talking to a stranger | Source: Midjourney

Scared young woman talking to a stranger | Source: Midjourney

The man’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he took a step closer. “I know this is… overwhelming,” he said, his voice wavering, “but I had no choice. We had no choice.”

A painful silence hung between us. My breath came in short, every exhale shaking with disbelief. The man’s expression crumbled, and he looked down as if ashamed. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.

Close-up shot of a 50 year old garage | Source: Midjourney

Close-up shot of a 50 year old garage | Source: Midjourney

“But I am… your father, daughter.” His eyes met mine, and this time, a tear escaped, tracing a line down the deep creases of his face. He swallowed hard and covered his mouth as if it could stop the wave of emotion threatening to break.

“No,” I breathed, the word almost inaudible. My legs weakened as I tried to piece everything together.

Scared woman talking to a stranger | Source: Midjourney

Scared woman talking to a stranger | Source: Midjourney

The man—my father—stood before me, shoulders slumped under the weight of emotion, but I stayed frozen in place. The word father felt sharp and unfamiliar like I’d stumbled across a shard of glass in my path.

For years, I’d pictured my parents in distant, shadowy forms, and now here was a real, flesh-and-blood person claiming he was part of me. My body ached to trust him, to accept this lost piece, but my mind held me back.

Jeremy must’ve sensed my hesitation. He stepped up, holding a crumpled envelope. “Megan, I know it’s hard to believe. But here—this is the proof. It’s a DNA test. I wanted to be sure before… well, before I put you through this.”

Young man smiling holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney

Young man smiling holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney

I looked down at the envelope, my heart pounding. “How… how did you even do this? How did you find him?”

Jeremy let out a sigh, glancing at the man and then back to me. “I know you never thought about searching, but… I did. Two years ago, I decided to look into your family, quietly, just in case it would mean something to you one day.”

He pulled me closer, his voice tender but firm. “I knew how much not having your family haunted you, especially at Christmas. So I started hiring people—private detectives, researchers. I went down every lead until we finally found a trail.”

Couple having a deep conversation | Source: Midjourney

Couple having a deep conversation | Source: Midjourney

The man—my supposed father—shifted his weight, rubbing his eyes as though he couldn’t quite believe it either.

“It wasn’t easy,” Jeremy continued, his voice lowering. “I found out that… well, after your mother got pregnant, she never told him. He had no idea you existed.”

I felt the sting of that, the realization that my mother—a woman I’d only known through childhood fantasies—had chosen to leave me at an orphanage and walk away. She’d vanished into the background of my life without ever telling this man… my father… what she’d done.

Woman in deep thoughts | Source: Midjourney

Woman in deep thoughts | Source: Midjourney

“She died several years ago,” Jeremy went on gently. “But I tracked down her sister. She lives in Eastern Europe, and after some long talks, she told me there was one person who could be your father. So, I reached out.”

I looked back at the man, a wave of guarded resentment and longing roiling inside me. “And he just… accepted it? Just like that?”

Jeremy nodded slowly, searching my face. “He was shocked, of course. It was only once I told him about you that he agreed to come, but I wanted to be certain. I wanted proof. So, one night I… I took a few strands of hair from your brush.”

Couple having a deep conversation | Source: Midjourney

Couple having a deep conversation | Source: Midjourney

My stomach twisted at the thought of it, the quiet lengths Jeremy had gone to, the hours, the money, all without me knowing. The man across from me—my father—clenched his jaw, his own hand trembling slightly. His eyes were locked on mine, an expression of cautious hope and deep pain in their depths.

“I did’n’t know about you, Megan,” he said, his voice thick, fighting back tears. “I didn’t know you existed until recently, and I… I didn’t believe it at first. But seeing you…” His voice faltered, and he glanced away, struggling to regain his composure.

Father and daughter talking | Source: Midjourney

Father and daughter talking | Source: Midjourney

The weight of his words settled heavily over me, and I took a shaky breath, my heart both heavy and fractured. “You were never there,” I murmured, a trace of bitterness slipping out. “I grew up without you. Without any of you.”

He took a step closer, then stopped, respecting the distance I maintained between us. “I don’t know if I can ever make up for that, Megan,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t even know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me. But if you let me… I’d like to be here now.”

Father and daughter talking | Source: Midjourney

Father and daughter talking | Source: Midjourney

Silence hung between us, thick with the years lost and the strange, uncertain possibility of the years ahead. The truth, the aching reality of what I’d been told, lay there, its edges sharp and unfamiliar. I didn’t know if I could open myself to him, didn’t know if I even wanted to.

But Jeremy’s hand tightened around mine, grounding me, reminding me that maybe… just maybe… I didn’t have to go through it all alone.

Man talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney

Man talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney

Taking a tentative step forward, I met the man’s gaze, that mix of hope and regret in his eyes. My voice shook as I finally spoke, letting my guard down just enough to let him hear a crack in the wall I’d built.

“I don’t know if I can call you Dad yet,” I whispered. “But… I think I’d like to know you.”

His face softened, and for a moment, the years that separated us fell away. A tear slipped down his cheek as he managed a small, hopeful smile.

Father and daughter bonding | Source: Midjourney

Father and daughter bonding | Source: Midjourney

“That’s all I could ask for, Megan. Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling with gratitude.

And as the lights from the upstairs Christmas tree spilled down the stairs, I allowed myself to take a step toward something I’d never thought I’d have—a father, and maybe, just maybe, a new family.

Young couple celebrating Christmas | Source: Midjourney

Young couple celebrating Christmas | Source: Midjourney

Loved this story? Don’t miss another unforgettable one: On Christmas night, I realized my 9-year-old daughter and my car keys were missing.

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.

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