“All men are liars.” With these words, Violet ended her radio program. Her life experiences and the countless stories she heard from her listeners had proven it. But, a date with a coworker made her question her belief. After a call from a stranger, she was convinced she had been right all along.
Violet sat comfortably in her chair, leaning slightly toward the microphone in the cozy, dimly lit studio of a local radio station.
The equipment’s soft hum and the faint buzz of the control board’s lights cast a warm, golden glow across the room.
Opposite her was James, her co-host, his posture more relaxed, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as they listened to the voice crackling through the speakers.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“He’s pulling away from me…” Susan’s voice trembled, and a muffled sob came through.
“I don’t know what to do. We barely talk anymore. I never thought I’d turn to a radio show for advice, but I don’t have anyone else who’ll listen.”
Violet adjusted her headphones, her expression softening.
“Don’t worry, Suzy, right? That’s your name?”
Her voice was calm, like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat, offering comfort through the static.
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“Yes, it’s Susan,” the caller confirmed, her breath hitching.
“Well, Suzy, that’s why we have this segment—to help people like you with relationship struggles. Thank you for sharing your story. It’s brave of you.”
Susan hesitated before asking, “So… what do you think I should do, Violet?”
Violet straightened in her chair, her tone sharp yet controlled.
“The same thing I always say—forget him. He’s either cheating on you or stringing you along. Either way, you deserve better.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James’s head snapped up, and he raised an eyebrow at her.
“Violet, maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. It could be anything—stress at work, personal issues. Maybe he doesn’t know how to communicate.”
Violet gave him a sidelong glance.
“Or maybe he has a mistress,” she said dryly. “Let’s not sugarcoat it. All men are liars.”
The tension hung for a moment, but Violet quickly turned back to the microphone, her professional smile firmly in place.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks for tuning in, folks. Enjoy the next song.” She flipped the switch, cutting their microphones.
Music filled the studio, and Violet leaned back, the faintest smirk playing on her lips.
James, however, shook his head slightly, unsure whether to push back or let it slide.
The studio lights dimmed slightly as the end-of-shift silence settled over the room.
Violet gathered her things—her notebook, headphones, and an oversized scarf she draped over her shoulder.
She moved with her usual efficiency, but her mind was already on the comfort of home and a hot cup of tea.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James lingered by the console, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
His usual easygoing demeanor seemed absent, replaced by a noticeable nervousness. Finally, he stepped closer, clearing his throat.
“You were ruthless with men today, as usual,” he said, flashing her a sheepish grin. His attempt at humor was met with a raised eyebrow.
Violet paused and glanced at him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been here six months, James,” she replied flatly. “I thought you’d have figured out by now what our audience expects.”
“So, it’s just for ratings, then?” James asked, tilting his head.
“You don’t actually believe all that?”
Violet shrugged, her expression unreadable.
“I never said that. What do you want, James? I was about to head home.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her. “Well, uh… I’ve been meaning to ask…” His words trailed off as his confidence wavered.
“Spit it out,” Violet said, smirking slightly, amused by his awkwardness. “Talking is supposed to be your job.”
He chuckled nervously, his face flushing. “Would you, um… like to go on a date with me?”
“A date?” Violet blinked, caught off guard. “Like a date-date?”
“Yes. Exactly. There’s a great place nearby I think you’d like.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Violet hesitated, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “James, you know I’m not big on dating.”
“Because you think all men are liars, right?” James teased. His tone was light but daring. “Let me prove that not all of us are that bad. Some of us are mostly honest.”
“Mostly?” Violet repeated, laughing despite herself. “Fine. But don’t expect miracles.”
“That’s good enough for me,” James said, his grin widening as he grabbed his coat.
The small restaurant felt like a hidden gem, the kind of place you’d never stumble upon unless someone showed you.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Candlelight flickered on every table, casting warm, golden hues across the room while the smooth notes of live jazz wove through the air.
The musicians, tucked into a corner, played as though they were part of the room’s heartbeat, their gentle melodies making the space feel alive yet soothing.
James pulled out a chair for Violet, his movements natural, unforced. Violet raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help a small smile as she sat down.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Chivalry isn’t dead, I see,” she teased.
“Well, I try,” James said with a grin, taking his seat across from her.
Violet glanced around, taking in the cozy surroundings.
“This place is charming,” she admitted. “I didn’t know spots like this still existed.”
“Judging by that look on your face, you don’t go to places like this often,” James said, leaning forward slightly, his tone playful.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t go on dates often, that’s for sure,” Violet replied, smoothing the napkin on her lap.
“Really? Hard to believe. A radio host and such a beauty? You must have admirers.”
Violet’s cheeks turned pink, and she waved him off.
“Stop it. I used to date, but I gave it up a long time ago. It always felt like a waste of time.”
James tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Why’s that?”
Violet hesitated before answering.
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“After dealing with betrayal, lies, and hearing all those stories on the show… It’s hard to believe in love anymore.”
James’s expression softened.
“Well,” he said gently, “not all of us are so bad.”
“Every man says that,” Violet sighed, leaning back in her chair.
James chuckled but didn’t push further. Instead, he started sharing a story about his childhood, painting vivid pictures of his clumsy adventures that left Violet laughing.
The conversation shifted naturally from funny anecdotes to deeper reflections about their lives.
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Violet found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t expected, her guard lowering with each shared laugh.
“See?” James said, grinning as she wiped away tears of laughter. “Not so bad spending time with me, is it?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Violet replied, though her smile betrayed her words.
James stood, gesturing toward the restroom. “I’ll be right back. But I want to hear the rest of your story about the bird when I get back.”
“Hurry up, or I’ll forget it,” Violet called after him, still chuckling as she sipped her water.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her phone buzzed on the table, interrupting her thoughts.
She frowned at the unfamiliar number and hesitated, but curiosity got the better of her.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hi, this is Jane,” a hesitant voice said on the other end.
“Sorry to call so late, but James hasn’t come home, and your number was the only one I could find. Is he with you?”
“Jane?” Violet asked, her voice suddenly tight. “Are you his sister?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Sister? No, I’m his girlfriend,” Jane replied sharply, the words cutting through the air like a knife.
Violet froze, the warmth of the evening draining away. Her heart pounded as Jane’s words echoed in her ears.
Without responding, she hung up, her hands trembling.
She grabbed her bag, scarf, and coat and walked briskly out of the restaurant, leaving behind the candlelight, the music, and the man she thought might have been different.
The next day at the radio station, Violet entered the studio with her usual brisk stride, her scarf loosely draped around her neck.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her expression, however, was anything but usual. It was cold, distant—like a door slammed shut.
She avoided eye contact with James, who was already at the control board, adjusting levels and humming softly to himself.
“Hey, Violet,” James called out, his voice light. He looked up with a smile, but it faltered when she breezed past him without so much as a glance.
“I was worried about you last night. You left so suddenly. I tried calling you—”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m fine,” Violet cut in, her tone sharp and clipped. She didn’t stop moving, setting her bag down with deliberate force.
James frowned, taking a cautious step toward her.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked hesitantly, his voice quieter now.
“You tell me,” she snapped, finally meeting his eyes, her glare icy. “Or maybe ask Jane.”
The name hit him like a slap, and his brow furrowed. “Jane? How do you know her?”
“Your girlfriend called me,” she said icily. “She wanted to know when you’d be home. Don’t worry—I didn’t keep you too long.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Violet, wait—” James started, his hands raised as if to stop the invisible storm brewing between them.
“One more word,” Violet interrupted, her voice cutting through the room like a blade, “and you’ll be looking for a new job.”
James froze, his mouth half-open, then closed it. He nodded stiffly and returned to his seat, his shoulders slumping slightly.
The day dragged on in frosty silence.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
By mid-afternoon, Violet noticed something strange. James didn’t look like a man caught in a lie; he looked genuinely upset.
His face was pale, his expression distant, as if the weight of the world sat on his shoulders.
Curiosity gnawed at her. By the end of the day, she found herself following him as he left the building.
Near the station’s entrance, a young woman stood waiting. Her arms were crossed, her expression a mix of anger and desperation.
“James! We need to talk!” the woman shouted, stepping closer.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James stopped abruptly and sighed. “We’ve got nothing to talk about, Jane,” he said, his voice firm but weary. “I’ve told you before—we’re done. It has been months! Why won’t you let it go already!?”
“But I love you! No one else will ever love you the way I do! Even that coworker of yours!” Jane cried, her voice breaking.
“Enough!” James snapped. “Because of the lies you told her, Violet won’t even look at me. I’ve had it, Jane. Stay out of my life.”
Jane burst into tears, her shoulders shaking as she pleaded one last time, but James didn’t budge.
Finally, she climbed into her car and drove away, leaving James standing alone. He sank onto the building’s steps, burying his face in his hands.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Violet hesitated before stepping forward. “James…” she said quietly. “I heard everything.”
He looked up, his eyes tired but calm. “Now you know what I was trying to explain,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Violet said softly, her voice filled with genuine regret. “But can you blame me for assuming the worst?”
“No. But not only men can lie as you can see.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She managed a faint smile, her defenses softening.
“Maybe not. Should we give this another try?”
James straightened, a hint of hope returning to his face.
“Why not?” he replied, a small grin tugging at his lips. “After all, tonight’s already been full of surprises.”
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Every year, Sarah had to devise a new excuse to explain to her family why they wouldn’t be visiting. “I won’t miss a single-family holiday because of your parents!” her husband Peter always insisted. But this time, Sarah stood her ground and defended her family values.
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My Dog Grew Unusually Attached to My Wife – The Reason I Discovered Led to Our Divorce
When my wife fell ill, our loyal Labrador became her constant guardian, never leaving her side. Even after she recovered, his clinginess escalated. Concerned and puzzled, we sought answers, only to uncover a shocking revelation that shattered our marriage and changed our lives forever.
I never thought I’d be sitting on my front porch, staring at a sunset while struggling to come to terms with the breakdown of my marriage.
Life has funny way of throwing curveballs, and today, I was squarely in the path of one such pitch.
It all started a few weeks back. Alicia, my wife, had always been the nurturing type. She had a knack for making our house feel like a home, filled with warmth and love.
Then she was struck down by a nasty stomach bug. It came out of nowhere and knocked her off her feet, leaving her exhausted.
Rocky, our three-year-old Labrador, became her shadow during those days. He refused to leave her side, even when I tried to coax him away with his favorite toy.
After Alicia recovered, Rocky’s behavior didn’t revert to normal. If anything, it intensified. He’d whine and scratch at the door if Alicia so much as stepped out of his sight. It was sweet at first, until he became aggressive.
One day, Alicia took him for a walk through our neighborhood. The Thompson kids were playing out front with their terrier, a common sight.
Usually, Rocky would’ve ignored the commotion, but not this time.
The terrier spotted Rocky and ran up to him. Rocky tensed immediately, and when the terrier was about a yard away, he bared his teeth and snarled at him.
“Rocky, what the heck?” Alicia said, tightening her grip on his lead.
He continued to snarl and snap at the terrier until the kids called their dog away. This sort of behavior was completely out of character for Rocky, and it set off alarms in my head.
“James, what’s wrong with Rocky?” Alicia asked me one morning, her voice tinged with worry as Rocky pressed himself against her legs.
“I’m not sure, but he’s definitely not himself,” I replied, frowning. “Maybe we should take him to the vet. Just to be safe.”
The vet visit was supposed to put our minds at ease, but it did anything but. As we sat in the waiting room with Rocky nestled at Alicia’s feet, a woman with a poodle struck up a conversation.
“Your dog is very attached to your wife,” she noted after we’d explained his recent odd behavior. “My poodle here used to do the same thing when I was pregnant. Dogs can sense these things, you know.”
Alicia and I exchanged a look. It was a fleeting moment of shared surprise, quickly followed by a rush of excitement. Could it be possible?
That evening, we decided to take a pregnancy test.
The anticipation was palpable as we waited for the result. When the little plus sign appeared, Alicia’s eyes filled with tears of joy. I pulled her into a hug, feeling a mix of elation and disbelief.
“We’re going to have a baby, James!” she whispered, her voice trembling with happiness.
I held her tight, the gravity of the moment sinking in. But as the days passed, a gnawing suspicion began to eat at me.
We had been careful, using contraceptives diligently. And with the stress of her illness, our intimacy had taken a backseat. The timing just didn’t add up.
One night, as we lay in bed, I couldn’t keep it inside any longer.
“Alicia, there’s something I need to ask,” I began, my voice heavy with hesitation.
She turned to me, her eyes soft and curious. “What is it, James?”
“I know this sounds crazy, but I need to know for sure. Can we do a paternity test?”
The look of hurt that flashed across her face was like a dagger to my heart.
“James, how could you even suggest that?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You think I’d cheat on you?”
“It’s not about that,” I tried to explain, my tone pleading. “I just need to be certain. For my own peace of mind. To be the best husband and father I can be.”
Her anger morphed into sorrow, tears streaming down her cheeks. “How can you doubt me like this?”
“I don’t want to doubt you,” I said, feeling my own eyes burn. “But I need to be sure. Please, Alicia.”
The silence that followed was deafening. She finally nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine. If that’s what you need.”
As the days went by, waiting for the test results was torture. Each moment stretched on endlessly, filled with an oppressive weight that seemed to crush my spirit a little more each day.
When the envelope finally arrived, I could barely bring myself to open it.
Alicia sat across from me, her face a mask of anxiety and hope. Rocky lay at my feet, his head resting on his paws, sensing the tension in the room.
“Are you ready?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Alicia nodded, tears already glistening in her eyes. With trembling hands, I tore open the envelope and pulled out the results.
The words blurred before my eyes, but one line stood out in stark clarity: “Probability of paternity: 0%.”
For a moment, the world stopped. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Alicia’s gasp brought me back to reality. She reached for the paper, her hands shaking as she read the result.
“No… this can’t be right,” she sobbed. “It has to be a mistake.”
“We’ll do it again,” I said, my voice hollow. “We have to be sure.”
We repeated the test twice more, each time clinging to a sliver of hope that the first result had been wrong. But each time, the answer was the same.
Alicia wasn’t carrying my child. I finally confronted her about it, and she confessed that she’d had an affair. The news hit me like a sledgehammer, shattering the fragile remnants of my trust.
“James, please,” Alicia pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “It was a one-time mistake. I swear it meant nothing. Please, don’t leave me.”
I looked at her, the woman I had loved and trusted with my whole heart, and felt a deep, aching sorrow.
“Alicia, I can’t do this,” I said, my voice breaking. “I can’t stay with someone who broke my trust like this.”
“Please, James,” she begged, her voice choked with sobs. “We can get through this. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I admitted, feeling the sting of those words. “But love isn’t enough without trust. I can’t pretend this didn’t happen.”
The decision to file for divorce was the hardest thing I’d ever done. We agreed to split everything fairly, but when it came to Rocky, Alicia broke down.
“I can’t take care of him alone,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry, James. I just can’t do it.”
Rocky looked up at me, his soulful eyes filled with understanding. He had been my rock through this whole ordeal, sensing the truth before any of us. I couldn’t imagine leaving him behind.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll take Rocky with me.”
Packing up my things and leaving the home we had built together felt like a nightmare.
But I also felt a strange sense of relief. It was time to start over, to rebuild my life from the ground up.
One afternoon, Rocky and I headed to our favorite park. I threw the ball, and Rocky bounded after it with his usual enthusiasm. But instead of bringing it back to me, he trotted over to a woman sitting on the grass with the ball clutched in his mouth.
“Well, hello there,” the woman said, laughing as Rocky dropped the ball at her feet. She had bright, friendly eyes and an infectious smile.
“Sorry about that,” I said, walking over. “He usually returns the ball to me.”
“No problem at all,” she replied, giving Rocky a pat on the head. “He’s adorable. I’m Courtney, by the way.”
“James,” I introduced myself, feeling an unexpected warmth in her presence. “This is Rocky. He seems to like you.”
“Well, I like him too,” Courtney said, her smile widening. “You have a great dog.”
We chatted for a while, and I found myself enjoying the conversation more than I had anticipated.
Courtney had a lightness about her, a genuine kindness that made me feel at ease. As the evening drew to a close, we exchanged numbers, promising to meet up again.
That is how I ended up here on the porch, reflecting on how far I’ve come.
Alicia’s betrayal left deep scars, but I was beginning to see a path forward.
With Rocky by my side and new possibilities on the horizon, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, the future held something good after all.
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