A Stranger’s Note on My Husband’s Car Made Me Call My Lawyer

A Stranger’s Note on My Husband’s Car Made Me Call My Lawyer

When Sierra is in mom-mode, trying to get her kids off to school, she finds a sticky note on her husband’s car that makes her question where he had been the entire weekend. Wanting answers, she phones the number on the note and slowly, secrets unravel with her marriage.

It was a typical Monday morning. I was in my mom zone, trying to get the kids off to school on time. That’s when a piece of pink paper changed everything.

A close-up of smiling children | Pexels

A close-up of smiling children | Pexels

I had just put the kids into the car and was about to put their lunch bags and backpacks in with them when I saw the bright pink sticky note plastered on the trunk of my husband’s car.

I paused, my heart pounding, and walked over to read it.

A pink sticky note on a car | Source: Midjourney

A pink sticky note on a car | Source: Midjourney

“Sit tight,” I told the kids. “I’m coming now! I just want to see what’s on Dad’s car.”

“Okay, Mom,” Natasha shouted from the backseat.

Children sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

Children sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

Sorry, I scratched your car last night. You shouldn’t park on the street though! -Neighbor from 283. This is my number in case you need anything!

Confusion and nausea washed over me. We don’t live near a house with that number, and my husband, Thomas, always parked in our garage.

A woman reading a sticky note | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a sticky note | Source: Midjourney

“What was it?” my daughter asked when I slid into the driver’s seat.

“Nothing, honey,” I said. “Just a piece of paper that got stuck on Dad’s car.”

A woman in the driver's seat | Source: Unsplash

A woman in the driver’s seat | Source: Unsplash

Tom had just returned from a business trip this morning, so his car should have been parked at the airport the entire weekend.

My mind raced, and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach.

I knew that something was about to change.

A man wearing a suit | Source: Unsplash

A man wearing a suit | Source: Unsplash

“Enjoy your day, babies!” I said as the kids got out of the car at drop-off.

“Don’t forget, we have to make cookies for school tomorrow,” Natasha reminded me. “We need like sixty cookies, Mom.”

I left the kids and drove to the grocery store, needing to get everything for the cookies that we needed to bake.

An aisle in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

An aisle in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

“Can I help you, ma’am?” a young woman asked me as I walked up and down the baking aisle. She tied the grocery store’s apron tightly onto her.

“No, thank you,” I said absentmindedly. “I’m just browsing.”

A person tying an apron | Source: Pexels

A person tying an apron | Source: Pexels

But my mind just couldn’t stay focused at all. What was Thomas playing at?

I filled up the cart as I went up and down the aisle, getting enough ingredients for everything we needed and then paid.

Then, I decided to call Thomas and just check in.

A woman holding a phone and a card | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a phone and a card | Source: Pexels

“Hi, honey,” I said the moment he picked up.

“Hey, Sierra,” he said. “Are you okay? I’m just getting into a meeting now. I’ll speak to you later.”

And he cut the call.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

“What on earth is going on?” I said aloud as I picked up gummy worms for Jake, my son.

Later, I picked up the kids and made toasted sandwiches while Natasha and I baked for her class.

A child holding a plate of toast | Source: Pexels

A child holding a plate of toast | Source: Pexels

“Is everything okay, Mom?” Natasha asked, mixing in the chocolate chips. “You’re not helping Jake with homework.”

“Everything is fine,” I said, turning my focus back to my children.

Chocolate chips in a container | Source: Pexels

Chocolate chips in a container | Source: Pexels

But still, my mind raced and I couldn’t shut it off. I was distracted and unable to stop the conspiracies that plagued my mind.

That evening, after tucking the kids into bed, I dialed the number on the note. The phone rang twice before a cheerful voice answered.

A little girl tucked in bed | Source: Pexels

A little girl tucked in bed | Source: Pexels

“Hello, is this house 283?” I asked, nervously.

“Yes!” the woman said. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Sierra,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I found your note on my husband’s car this morning. Can you tell me more about the incident?”

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

There was a brief pause.

“Oh, yes, I’m Jane. I’m really sorry about that. I accidentally scratched his car when I was parking last night. I live at 283 Elm Street. Are you new to the neighborhood?”

My heart pounded.

“No, no,” I said. “I’m sure Thomas was just visiting a friend. Don’t worry about the scratch, I saw the car. It’s all good!”

A parked car | Source: Pexels

A parked car | Source: Pexels

“Oh, are you sure?” she asked. “I’m sure that the insurance will cover it.”

“I’m sure,” I said, turning to look out the window. “But can you tell me where exactly he was parked?”

There was silence for a moment.

When Jane spoke, her voice was softer.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Pixabay

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Pixabay

“He was parked right outside my house. There’s a small park across the street, and next to it, is a woman’s house. I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thank you, Jane,” I said.

I hung up, my mind reeling. Thomas had lied to me. He wasn’t on a business trip. He hadn’t even left the car at the airport.

A house with a garden | Source: Midjourney

A house with a garden | Source: Midjourney

Instead, he was at some woman’s house.

I didn’t want to confront my husband yet. I needed proof first. So, I got into bed beside him and forced myself to fall asleep.

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Unsplash

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Unsplash

The next morning, I gave the kids cereal for breakfast while trying to decide my next move.

After dropping them off at school, I drove to Elm Street. According to the GPS, it was about twenty minutes away from me. I looked for the park and the house next door.

Bowls of cereal | Source: Midjourney

Bowls of cereal | Source: Midjourney

Before doing anything else, I knocked on the door. A few moments later, a woman in her thirties opened the door.

“Hi, can I help you?” she asked.

“My name is Sierra,” I said. “I believe my husband, Thomas, was with you this weekend?”

Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

A white front door | Source: Midjourney

A white front door | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, my God. I had no idea he was married. Please, come in. I’m Mary.”

My heart ached, and my wedding ring seemed to get tighter around my finger.

“He didn’t mention us? His family?” I asked.

Mary shook her head.

A woman hiding her face | Source: Unsplash

A woman hiding her face | Source: Unsplash

“No, he told me he was single. We met at a local market, and we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now. But he did say that work has been hectic recently. So we haven’t seen each other very often.”

“Mary, I need your help. I need evidence of his infidelity for my divorce lawyer. I can’t stay married to a man like this, especially with my kids. Can you help me?”

People at a farmer's market | Source: Unsplash

People at a farmer’s market | Source: Unsplash

Mary looked at me with determination.

“Of course,” she said. “We need to catch him in the act.”

Later that evening, Mary was going to text Thomas and invite him over. She told him that she really wanted them to have dinner together at home.

“I’ll tell him that I cooked,” she told me as I left her home. “That usually gets him here.”

A homecooked meal | Source: Midjourney

A homecooked meal | Source: Midjourney

I left the kids with my mother and drove to Mary’s house, ready to catch Thomas in the act. When he arrived, Mary kissed him at the door.

My stomach turned, but I snapped the picture anyway. Then, I stepped out of my hiding place.

“Thomas,” I demanded. “What the hell is this?”

His face turned pale.

A couple embracing | Source: Unsplash

A couple embracing | Source: Unsplash

“Sierra, what are you doing here?”

Mary crossed her arms, glaring at him.

“You lied to both of us, Thomas,” she said. “How could you? And you have children?”

He stammered, trying to find the right words, but there were none.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he finally managed to say.

“Save it,” I said, holding my camera. “I have all the proof I need. I’m ready to file for divorce.”

A close-up of a camera | Source: Unsplash

A close-up of a camera | Source: Unsplash

“Sierra, please,” he said, trying to follow me to the car.

I brushed him off and got in, ready to head home to my children.

In the following weeks, Mary and I became unlikely friends, bonded by our shared betrayal. The most surprising thing was how quickly my children got attached to her.

On the day that the papers were finally signed, I felt the biggest sense of relief and empowerment.

Two woman sitting together | Source: Unsplash

Two woman sitting together | Source: Unsplash

Sure, my heart was broken, and so was my home. But as I was trying to fix myself, my children stepped in, ready to fill my life with the joy that only children can.

As for Thomas? He moved back in with his parents. He didn’t even put up a fight to make things better.

Two smiling children | Source: Pexels

Two smiling children | Source: Pexels

What would you have done?

Millionaire Shocked to Find Out His Daughter and Four Grandkids Have Been Living in a Car for YEARS – The Story That Will Leave You Speechless

A woman who was kicked out of her wealthy father’s house at sixteen for marrying a poor man ended up living on the streets with her four children after her husband passed away.

Steve Walton was not happy when his butler informed him that Pastor Morris was waiting to see him. After a long flight from Singapore, he was tired and not interested in hearing the pastor’s lectures or requests for community support.

He had the pastor brought in and, showing his impatience, said, “Get on with it, man! What do you want this time?”

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Mr. Walton, I saw Susan,” the pastor said quietly. Steve’s heart nearly stopped. His only daughter had left his house nearly fifteen years ago, and he hadn’t seen her since.

“Susan?” Steve asked anxiously. “Where? When? How is she?”

“I was in Los Angeles, helping out a friend with a mission for the homeless, and that’s where I saw her,” the pastor explained.

“Was she volunteering? Did you tell her I’ve been looking for her?” Steve asked.

“No,” Pastor Morris replied gently. “She wasn’t a volunteer, Mr. Walton. She’s homeless. She and her children are living in a car.”

Steve felt so dizzy he had to sit down. “Homeless? My Susan? With children?” he gasped.

“I’m afraid so,” the pastor said. “And she wouldn’t even listen to me when I told her to come home.”

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“But why?” Steve asked angrily. “She’s not still with that loser, is she?”

“Her husband passed away three years ago, Mr. Walton,” the pastor explained. “She told me she wouldn’t bring her children into a house where their father was hated.”

Steve Walton felt a wave of old rage sweep over him. Even fifteen years later, Susan was still defying him! He remembered the scene in his study, and how Susan had looked him in the eyes as he ranted.

“Pregnant at sixteen, and by the GARDENER!” he had screamed. “We are going to have THAT taken care of, and HE’S fired! You will never see that man again!”

“THAT is my baby, daddy,” Susan had said with a trembling voice. “And HE is the man I love. I’m going to marry him.”

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“You marry that man and you’re on your own, Susan, do you hear?” Steve shouted furiously. “No more money, nothing! You marry him and you get out of my house!”

Susan had looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I love you, daddy,” she said. Then she turned and walked away. Despite hiring detectives to find her, no one had been able to trace her.

“How many children?” Steve asked Pastor Morris.

“Four,” the pastor replied. “Three girls and a boy. Beautiful children.”

Steve picked up his phone and demanded that his plane be prepared. “Pastor, would you come with me to Los Angeles and take me to my little girl?” he asked quietly.

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The pastor nodded, and within two hours, he and Steve were on Steve’s private jet heading south. When they landed, a limo was waiting to take them to a parking lot outside a large mall.

At the far end of the lot, they found a pickup truck with a tent set up in the back. Pastor Morris had told Steve that after Susan’s husband died in a work accident, the insurance company refused to pay out, and the bank foreclosed on their home.

Susan had packed her children and their few belongings into the old pickup. She worked as a cleaner at the mall and used the mall’s facilities. She also bought leftover food from the restaurants at the end of the day.

Despite everything, Susan managed to keep her four children fed, clean, and in school. As Steve and the pastor approached the truck, they heard cheerful voices and laughter. Two children tumbled out of the back, excited to see them.

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The oldest girl, around fourteen, was laughing as she tickled a boy of about seven. When Steve and Pastor Morris approached, the children stopped and stared.

“Mom!” the girl shouted. “That old preacher friend of yours is here!”

From inside the tent, a familiar voice asked, “Preacher Morris?” Susan then emerged, and Steve saw the shock on her face when she saw him standing next to the pastor.

“Daddy?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

Steve was taken aback. His daughter was only thirty-one, but she looked much older. Her face was lined with worry and hardship, and her hands were rough from hard work.

“Susan,” Steve cried. “Look at you! Look at what HE did to my princess! I wanted so much more for you! And you married that loser! What could he have given you? Poverty?”

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Susan shook her head and said, “He loved me, Daddy, and he gave me four beautiful children. He passed away, and I had nowhere to go, but I’ve done my best for my kids. I will always love their father, just like I’ve always loved you.”

Steve found tears streaming down his face. “Forgive me, Susan,” he sobbed. “Please forgive me. Come home, I want you all to come home with me. Let me help you take care of the children!”

As Steve held his weeping daughter, he knew that everything would be alright. Susan introduced him to his three granddaughters and then placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And this,” she smiled, “is little Stevie!”

“You named him after me?” Steve asked, amazed. “After what I did?”

Susan looked at her father and said softly, “I love you, Daddy. Don’t you know that?”

That afternoon, they all flew back to Texas together. It marked the start of a new, better life for the whole family.

What can we learn from this story?

– **Love Your Children Unconditionally:** Steve’s anger at Susan for loving someone poor led him to lose his daughter. Accept your children no matter who they love.

– **Don’t Judge People by Wealth:** Steve didn’t like Susan’s husband because he was poor, but he was a loving and dedicated father. Don’t judge people by their money or status.

Share this story with your friends. It might bring them hope and inspiration.

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