A man mocks his unemployed wife for doing nothing at home and returns one evening only to find her missing.
As he searches for her, he stumbles upon a note and learns his wife was taken away in an ambulance and wants to divorce him.
It was a bright cold morning in October—the day Harry had been waiting for to present the new gaming app he’d been working on day and night for the last six months.
Nothing would stop Harry from grabbing his much-awaited promotion and that six-figure paycheck if everything went well. So he was so excited.
The clock struck eight as Harry stormed into the dining room, his eyes still fixed on his phone, not his wife Sara or his two little sons, Cody and Sonny…
“Morning, honey,” Sara said.
“Good morning, Daddy,” the boys chorused.
But Harry didn’t respond. He quickly grabbed a toast, lost in his thoughts about the upcoming presentation, and hurried back to his room to get ready.
“Sara, where’s my white shirt?” Harry’s voice suddenly boomed from the bedroom while everyone was still enjoying their breakfast.
“I just put it for a wash with all the whites.”
“What do you mean by you just put it for a wash?
I asked you to wash it three days ago. You know that’s my lucky shirt. And I needed it for today’s meeting,” Harry snapped as he stormed to the dining room.
“Why can’t you ever do anything right?
Why do you always have to mess things up? Today’s a big day for me. What am I gonna wear now?”
Sara’s face turned red, and she started making excuses.
“Stop yelling at me in the morning, Harry.
I didn’t have enough white clothes to wash. I just gathered all of them until I had a full load. And it’s not the only white shirt you have.
It’s not a big deal or something. So stop barking, alright?”
“Oh really? I’m barking?
You wanna do this now?”
“Do what, Harry? You’re making a scene for a stupid little thing. And nobody would be interested in what color shirt you’re wearing when all eyes would be fixed on your goddamn presentation.”
“A goddamn presentation?
Come again…Did you just say that? Do you have any idea how I’ve been busting my butt off day and night for that project?”
“Watch your words. The kids….”
“And you know what?
You sit at home all day doing nothing,” Harry blurted out. “Is it too hard to remember one simple thing? And that friend of yours in the apartment below…All you do is gossip with her as if you’re gonna solve the whole world’s problem.
All you do is Blah Blah Blah and NOTHING at home.”
“Harry, stop this. The kids are watching. You’re scaring them.”
“Oh really?
And nobody watches you when you’re on the goddamn phone gossiping all the time with your friends. Whose husband did what…Whose wife has a fling with who…and basically sitting at home doing nothing around here? Nobody watches that, huh, Sara?”
“And you know what?
I give up…I can’t handle this crap anymore. You can never be a good wife if you can’t do even a simple thing for me.”
Harry dressed up in a random suit and stormed out of the house, grabbing his briefcase.
As Harry presented his project, his phone kept vibrating in his pocket. With each ring, his heart leaped, thinking Sara had called him to apologize like she always did whenever they fought.
“That was one helluva presentation, Harry.
Good job, man,” Harry’s boss, Mr. Adams, congratulated him. And Harry was over the moon when he finally got his hands on his dream promotion.
He checked his phone on his drive home and was surprised at not seeing Sara’s calls or texts.
She usually called or sent those heart and smiley emojis with a sorry voice message every time they fought. But this time, there was none.
“Strange! Still angry with me, huh, babe?” Harry muttered before approaching a roadside florist and getting a bouquet of Sara’s favorite white roses.
He beamed with joy as he took the elevator to his high-rise apartment on the seventh floor overlooking the sea.
“Honey, I’m home!” Harry called out, tossing the keys on the table. But there was no answer, except for his own voice bouncing off the walls.
Harry put the flowers in the vase and searched every room in the house, but there was no sign of his family.
“Sara, honey….” he called out again. “Guys?
Daddy’s home…Cody? Sonny?”
“Where’s everyone?”
Agitated, Harry took his phone to call Sara when a note on the coffee table held in place by a red pen drew his attention. He shakily picked it up and stammered at the words: “I want a divorce.”
Harry sank onto the couch, the note feeling heavy in his hand as he read it over and over again.
“Is this some kind of a joke?”
Harry closed his eyes, hoping it was not real.
He grabbed his phone and called Sara.
“Pick up…Sara…please…pick up,” he frantically whispered. But there was no answer.
“Where did she go? Where are the kids?” he whispered as he scrolled down the contacts to call Zara, Sara’s sister.
“Hey…is Sara with you?
I just came home, and she’s not….” he spoke, anxiously pinching his fingers.
“Sara’s in the hospital right now, Harry.”
“The hospital?? Wha-What happened to her?”
The line went blank as Harry bolted out of his apartment and onto the streets, shouting for a taxi approaching in his direction.
“Keep the change,” he hurried out of the cab and burst into the hospital, his eyes darting around, looking for Zara.
“Where is she? Oh my God, Zara.
What happened to Sara? Is she alright?”
“Really, Harry? You’re asking if she’s alright?
She’s here coz of you…You did this to my sister. You told her she was not ‘wife’ enough for you?”
“Look, we’ll talk about this later, alright?” Harry then rushed to meet the doctor.
“Doctor, is my wife alright? Can I see her
Doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page. Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
