Miley could listen to Ian’s music for hours. However, as she finds herself falling in love with the young pianist, she learns about Nora, a woman for whom he has been reserving a ticket at every performance. When the ticket is finally claimed, Ian is forced to confront his past.
Ian sat alone at the grand piano, the faint echoes of his notes filling the empty concert hall.
His fingers danced over the keys with precision, yet his movements carried a natural fluidity, as if the music were flowing straight from his soul.
Each note lingered in the air, a delicate thread weaving through the silence. His eyes, nearly closed, gave him the appearance of being lost in a dream.
At the entrance, Miley stood quietly, her breath catching each time Ian struck a particularly moving chord.
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She felt a warmth in her chest, an admiration that made her heart beat just a little faster.
The way he poured his heart into the music mesmerized her. She didn’t dare move, not wanting to interrupt the magic.
A soft shuffle of footsteps broke the silence. Rosa, the kind-hearted older woman who had worked at the theater for decades, approached Miley with a knowing smile.
“He’s good, isn’t he?” Rosa whispered, her voice barely audible, as if speaking louder would break the spell.
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Miley nodded quickly, then stumbled over her words.
“He’s very good… I mean, he plays very well. That’s what I meant.”
Rosa chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling.
“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. You’re young—this is the time for such feelings.”
Miley’s cheeks flushed a deep pink.
“You’ve got it all wrong. I just like how he plays, that’s all.”
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“Sure, sure,” Rosa teased, her smile widening.
As Ian’s final note faded into the air, he exhaled deeply, turning to look around the hall.
Spotting Rosa and Miley, he broke into a wide smile and waved, jogging over to them.
“Great performance, Ian, as always,” Rosa praised warmly.
“Thank you, Rosa,” Ian replied. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Did you remember to set aside the ticket?”
“As always, Ian—one ticket for Nora,” Rosa said with a reassuring nod.
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Ian’s face softened, a look of quiet gratitude flickering across his features. “Thank you,” he said sincerely before heading out of the building.
Curiosity burned in Miley’s chest.
“What’s this ticket about?” she asked Rosa.
Rosa leaned closer, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “As long as I’ve known Ian, he always sets aside one ticket before every performance. It’s always for Nora.”
Miley frowned slightly.
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“Who is she? His mom? Sister? Girlfriend?” Her voice wavered with unease.
Rosa shrugged.
“I don’t know. She’s never come to any of his performances. But Ian keeps leaving a ticket for her, never explaining who she is.”
“That’s so sad,” Miley murmured, her heart aching for Ian.
“Yes, it is,” Rosa agreed. Then, with a small smile, she added, “But maybe it’s for the best—keeps a bit of mystery in his performances.”
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Miley nodded, but her thoughts lingered on the name: Nora. Who was she, and why did she hold such a place in Ian’s heart?
Miley stood frozen in front of Ian’s dressing room door, her palms damp with nervous sweat.
She wrung her hands together, muttering under her breath, rehearsing the words that refused to come out smoothly.
“Just say it. ‘Ian, do you want to go for a walk?’ It’s not that hard,” she whispered, but her voice trembled even in the quiet.
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Taking a shaky breath, she straightened her shoulders and stepped forward, her hand reaching for the door.
Before she could knock, it swung open. Ian stood there, his hand still on the doorknob, his surprised eyes meeting hers.
“Miley… Hi,” he said, his voice warm but puzzled.
“Hi, Ian,” she replied, her throat suddenly dry. She swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for the words she had practiced.
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“Is something wrong?” Ian asked, concern flickering across his face. “Did you need something?”
“No… I mean, yes. Yes, I did.” Miley’s voice was unsteady, and she hated how unsure she sounded.
“Listen, Ian, I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a long time.”
Ian tilted his head, curious. “Ask me what?”
She hesitated, then blurted out, “Would you like to… I mean, do you want to, after your performance…”
“Do I want to what?” he prompted gently.
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“Go to the park with me,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing. “For a walk. With me.”
Ian stared at her for a moment, and she felt her heart thudding loudly in her chest.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking thoughtful. Finally, he sighed, and his expression turned somber.
“I’m sorry, Miley. I’d really like to, but I can’t.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand… Why not?”
“I can’t say,” he said softly, avoiding her gaze.
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“Is it because of Nora?” she asked, the name slipping out before she could stop it.
Ian flinched slightly, his jaw tightening.
“You don’t understand… I’m sorry, the performance is starting soon. I need to prepare.”
Before she could say anything else, Ian brushed past her, walking briskly down the hall.
Miley stood there, her heart sinking, tears threatening to spill as his words echoed in her mind.
She sat on the cold bench near the cloakroom, her face buried in her hands. Quiet sobs shook her shoulders as she tried to make sense of everything.
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Her tears blurred the familiar surroundings, but she barely noticed. All she could think about was Ian—his music, his distant smile, and his refusal.
From across the room, Rosa noticed the young woman and hurried over. Her soft footsteps were comforting in the otherwise silent space.
“Miley, dear, what happened?” Rosa asked gently, sitting beside her. Her warm hand rested lightly on Miley’s shoulder.
“I’m such a fool. A complete fool,” Miley blurted out between sobs. “Why did I ever think I deserved this?”
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Rosa frowned, her kind eyes filled with concern.
“Don’t say that! You’re a smart and beautiful young woman. Tell me what happened.”
Miley sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve.
“I talked to Ian,” she began, her voice shaking. “I wanted to ask him out.”
“And what did he say?” Rosa asked carefully.
“He said he’d like to but couldn’t,” Miley said, her voice breaking.
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“He didn’t explain anything. He just walked away! It’s all because of that Nora! But she doesn’t even care about him! She doesn’t even come to his performances! And I do! I appreciate him!”
“Oh, sweetie,” Rosa said, her voice soothing. “Don’t be upset. It’s not the end of the world. You’ll find your true love.”
Miley shook her head, her tears slowing but her resolve hardening. “No!” she said firmly. “I’m going to fight for him.”
Before Rosa could respond, Miley stood, wiped her face, and marched toward Ian’s dressing room.
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Determination burned in her eyes as she reached the door. She knocked softly. No answer. Carefully, she turned the knob and stepped inside.
The room was neat, almost too neat, as though Ian had been trying to keep everything in perfect order to hide the chaos within.
Miley scanned the desk, her gaze landing on a leather-bound journal. Her hands trembled as she picked it up.
“This isn’t right,” she whispered to herself, but the thought of understanding Ian pushed her forward.
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She opened the journal and flipped through the pages, searching for the name that had haunted her thoughts: Nora.
Her breath hitched when she found it. The words leaped off the page:
“I’ve been invited to audition at the theater. They want to hear me play and evaluate my skills. I didn’t want to go—I didn’t see the point in embarrassing myself again—but Nora thought differently. She convinced me to go. I don’t know what I’d do without her…”
Miley’s eyes widened as she read. She turned another page:
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“I got the part! I don’t know how it happened, but they want me to play there. An agent even took my number and promised to set up performances for me. I can’t believe it—it’s all thanks to Nora!”
She kept flipping until she reached the final page. Her heart stopped when she saw the yellowed newspaper clipping glued to it.
The headline read: “After a tragic fire, 26-year-old Nora Gates has passed away…”
Miley’s hands fell to her sides as tears streamed down her cheeks. Now she understood.
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Nora wasn’t some distant, uncaring figure—she was Ian’s late girlfriend, the woman who had believed in him when he didn’t believe in himself.
Miley gently placed the journal back on the desk and left the room, her heart heavy with the weight of her discovery.
The theater buzzed with quiet anticipation as the lights dimmed and Ian prepared to take his place at the piano.
His heart raced, not from stage fright, but from Rosa’s words just moments earlier.
“Ian, someone finally took your ticket,” she had whispered.
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“What!? That can’t be!” he had exclaimed, his voice sharp with disbelief.
Rosa had only shrugged, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement, before walking away.
The melody filled the room, soft yet powerful, like waves crashing and retreating.
Still, his eyes darted toward the reserved seat every few minutes. At first, it was empty, just as it always had been.
A pang of relief—or was it disappointment?—settled in his chest.
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Then, partway through a piece, he caught sight of someone sitting there. It was Miley.
His breath hitched as he stared, stunned.
Miley’s face, partially hidden behind the bouquet of flowers she held, looked at him with both fear and determination. Ian’s heart ached in a way he hadn’t felt in years.
Tears blurred his vision, but he kept playing, pouring every ounce of emotion into the music. By the time the final note rang out, the audience erupted into applause.
Miley waited for the crowd to settle before approaching him. She handed him the flowers, her voice trembling.
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“Ian, it was wonderful. Thank you for the performance.”
“You took the ticket,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.
“Yes… I’m sorry. It was for Nora, right?.”
Ian nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “Yes.”
“But Nora is no longer here, Ian,” Miley said gently. “I know what she did for you, and I know how much you loved her.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice cracking.
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“I do,” Miley replied, her eyes glistening. “I’m sorry, but I read a few pages of your journal. She wanted you to live, Ian. To follow your dreams. To be happy.”
Ian lowered his gaze, the weight of her words sinking in.
“But she’s gone…”
Miley stepped closer.
“But you’re still here. Do you think she would want your life to stop with hers?”
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For a long moment, Ian said nothing, the silence between them thick with unspoken pain. Finally, Miley placed the flowers in his hands.
“You’re a wonderful person, Ian. Please, allow yourself to be happy.”
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her. “Wait!”
Miley spun around, her eyes wide.
“I want to take a walk with you in the park,” Ian said, his voice quiet but sure.
A small, hopeful smile spread across Miley’s face as she nodded.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Teenage boy Charlie struggles to understand why his peers receive expensive presents while he’s left listening to his mother’s excuses. Then he discovers that his mother had prepared 15 gifts for his future birthdays. But after learning the reason behind it, he finally realizes what he truly wants.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
My Neighbor Tried to Kick Me out of My Own Home, Until I Found a Note That Said ‘You Need to Know the Truth About Your Husband’ — Story of the Day
My neighbor made my life a nightmare, trying to push me out of the home I loved. Her cruelty seemed personal, but I never knew why—until one strange note changed everything. It said, “You need to know the truth about your husband.” What I found out shook my whole world.
Do you know the feeling when your own home turns into a battlefield? I hope not. But I knew that feeling very well. Every single morning, I opened my eyes with dread in my chest.
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I never knew what kind of day it would be. Some days were quiet, but the silence felt like the calm before a storm.
Other days, something new would go wrong, and I always knew who was behind it. Meredith.
Just thinking about her made my stomach turn. I had never met anyone so bitter, so heartless.
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Ross and I moved into this house after my mother passed. It was supposed to be a new start for us. But peace never came. Not with Meredith living next door.
From day one, she treated me like an enemy. She didn’t even acknowledge Ross. To her, he didn’t exist. But me—she seemed to live to make my life miserable.
She let her shaggy dog dig through my flower beds like it was his playground.
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She chopped down my beautiful tree just because a few branches leaned over the fence.
And when we grilled some burgers at six in the evening, she called the cops and said we were disturbing the peace. Six o’clock! Who does that?
I started to feel like I was losing my mind. I even stopped planting new flowers because I knew they wouldn’t last long.
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But the worst came one sunny afternoon when I was bent over pulling weeds, enjoying the quiet.
Out of nowhere, a blast of water hit me so hard I dropped my gloves. It didn’t stop.
I was soaked through like someone dumped a bucket over my head again and again. Then I saw the hose. It was coming from Meredith’s yard.
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“Meredith! You nasty old witch! Turn it off!” I yelled as the water blasted me straight in the face.
The stream stopped. I stood there, dripping wet, shaking with anger. Meredith poked her head over the fence like nothing had happened.
“Oh, Linda,” she said in that fake sweet voice. “I didn’t know you were out there.”
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“Don’t lie to me!” I shouted. “You knew exactly what you were doing!”
She shrugged. “It’s just water. You’ll dry off.”
I stared at her, stunned. Then she disappeared behind the fence like I didn’t even matter.
I stormed into the house, water dripping all over the floor. My clothes clung to me, and my hair was soaked.
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Ross looked up from the couch. “What in the world happened to you?”
“It was Meredith!” I snapped. “Go talk to her. You used to live near her, didn’t you?”
“That doesn’t mean we were friends,” he said.
“I don’t care. Say something to her. I’ve had enough!”
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Ross sighed. “Why don’t we just move? Sell this house. Start over. We could make some money on this house. I even found a few listings.”
I cut him off. “No! I’m not letting that woman chase me out of my own home!”
“But, Linda—”
“I said no! I’m done talking!” I turned and headed to the bathroom to wash away the cold and my rage.
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But Ross never talked to Meredith. I asked him more than once, but he always gave the same excuse.
He said he did not have time. To be fair, he really had been working late a lot. I figured maybe it had something to do with retirement.
He was almost fifty. So was I. I thought maybe he had plans and just did not want to talk about them yet.
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I never once suspected anything else. I was not some nervous young wife. I trusted him.
Still, he kept bringing up moving. Over and over. “We should sell,” he’d say. “This place isn’t worth it.” But to me, it was home.
One day, I saw Andrew, Meredith’s son, walking up to Meredith’s door. He had a bag in one hand and a tired look on his face.
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“Good afternoon, Linda,” he said when he saw me standing by the garden. “How have you been?”
I crossed my arms. “I’d be just fine if your mother would leave me alone.”
Andrew let out a deep sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to talk to her again.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I hope it helps.”
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I could not understand how such a kind and polite young man like Andrew came from someone like Meredith.
He always greeted me with respect. He listened. He even tried to help. It made no sense. Maybe he got his good side from his father.
I had never seen the man. No one else had either. The neighbors only whispered about him.
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They said he left Meredith when she was pregnant. I believed it. With the way she acted, I could imagine someone walking away.
Still, it didn’t make it right. A man should never leave a woman like that. No matter what. A child needs a father. Andrew deserved better.
I made myself a hot cup of tea and stepped into the garden. The air felt calm. I needed some peace.
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Ross was still at work, and I wanted a quiet evening alone. I sat down near my flowers and took a sip. Then I heard her voice.
“My Andrew got a big promotion,” Meredith said, peeking over the fence. “He’s also getting married soon.”
“Congratulations,” I said, lifting my cup without looking at her.
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She didn’t stop. “It must be hard for you. No children. No one to celebrate.”
Her words hit me like a stone. She knew it hurt. She always brought it up. She wanted me to feel small.
I stood up. “Go to hell, Meredith!” I yelled. I turned and walked straight into the house, my chest tight, my eyes burning.
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I had always dreamed of being a mother. I pictured holding a baby in my arms, watching them grow, teaching them everything I knew.
But Ross kept putting it off. He always had a reason. “Not yet,” he’d say. “We can’t afford it.” “Maybe next year.” Year after year, I waited.
I trusted him. I thought he knew best. Then one day, I realized I was almost fifty. It was too late.
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That was the one deep regret I carried. I should have pushed harder. I should have spoken up. But now it was done. No children. No second chance.
The next morning, I went to the farmers’ market. Ross said he’d stay home.
When I got back, his car was already gone. I put away the groceries and stepped out to check the mailbox.
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I sorted through bills, ads, and catalogs. Then I saw it—a plain white envelope with no name.
I opened it right there on the porch. Inside was a short note: You need to know the truth about your husband. Below that was a time and a place. Nothing more.
I looked around. No one was in sight. My heart raced. Who sent it? Why now?
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That evening, when Ross got home, I told him I had to run some errands. Then I left to find out the truth.
The meeting was to take place in a small park not far from our house. I got there early and sat on a bench.
My heart beat fast. I looked around, trying to guess who had sent the note.
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Then I saw her. Meredith. She walked toward me with a stiff face and steady steps.
“So this was your doing?” I asked as I walked up. “What do you want from me now?”
“It’s time you knew everything,” she said, her voice low and flat.
“Knew what? Another game? More lies? I don’t have time for this.”
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“I saw Ross. He left your house. A young woman got in his car. Then he kissed her.”
I blinked. “No. You’re lying.”
She pulled out her phone. “Am I?” She showed me the screen. I looked at it. It was Ross. In his car. Kissing a young woman.
I stared. “No… He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t do that to me.”
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Meredith shook her head. “What did you expect? A man who cheats once will cheat again.”
“He’s never cheated on me,” I said. My voice sounded small.
“Not on you. But he cheated before. You took him from someone else.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. My heart pounded in my chest.
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“Do you even know why I hate you?”
“I really don’t know. You’ve hated me since day one.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know! You left my son without a father!”
“How? I didn’t even know you until four years ago!” I shouted.
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“You took Ross from me! I was pregnant when he left. He left because of you!”
I froze. “Wait… Are you saying Ross is Andrew’s father?”
“Yes,” she said. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
My legs went weak. I sat down. “No… no… I didn’t know. I swear to you, Meredith. I had no idea. I never would’ve done that.”
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Meredith’s face changed. Her arms dropped. “You really didn’t know?”
I shook my head. “No. God. I… Oh my God. Everything I thought I knew about him… it’s all wrong.”
She looked away. “I don’t even know what to say now.”
“It makes sense now. Why you treated me like that. If I were you, I’d hate me too.”
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Meredith looked down. “If I had known you didn’t know… I might have acted differently.”
“Why didn’t he help you? Even if you weren’t together, he should have helped Andrew.”
“There were no problems between us. Not until I told him I was pregnant. After that, he disappeared.”
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I shook my head. “If we count the dates… Ross and I were already together when you were pregnant.”
“I found out later. He told me. Said he had cheated. Said it was you.”
“You should’ve come to me back then. Told me the truth.”
“I hated you. Ross told me you knew about me. That you didn’t care.”
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I looked up at her. “Why tell me all this now?”
“Because no one deserves to be lied to the way I was. You’re living the same lie I lived. I don’t want that for you.”
I nodded. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry for everything.”
“So am I. I’ve said a lot of terrible things to you.”
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“It’s all right. We’ll deal with that later. Right now, I need to deal with the one who caused all this.”
I gave Meredith a ride home. Neither of us spoke. My hands gripped the wheel tight. My heart pounded.
When I got home, I saw Ross in the kitchen. He looked up and smiled like nothing had happened.
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“Linda, you were gone so long,” he said. “I was starting to worry. I have some news. I found a good realtor. I think we should move soon.”
I dropped my keys on the counter. “I am not selling this house. You can go wherever you want. I am staying.”
Ross frowned. “What are you talking about?”
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“I know everything,” I said. “About Meredith. About Andrew. About the young woman you kissed in your car.”
He stepped back. “Linda, I can explain.”
“I don’t want your lies. I’ve heard enough. Just get out.”
“Please, let’s talk this through,” he said.
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“Talk about what? How you’ve lied for years? How you planned to sell this house and spend the money on your new girlfriend?”
“We can still fix this,” he said.
“Fix what? I don’t want to live with a man like you anymore. Get out of my house!”
He snapped. “Who else would want you? You have no kids. No one but me.”
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I stared at him. “I’ll manage. I’d rather be alone than be with you.”
After those words, Ross grabbed his coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him so hard the walls shook.
I stood still, listening to the silence he left behind. I knew divorce at my age would be hard.
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But I also knew one thing for sure—it would be better than living a lie. Maybe now, with him gone, Meredith would stop trying to punish me.
Maybe we both could finally breathe. One thing was certain—Ross could go to hell, and I wouldn’t miss him at all.
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