“Matthew? This isn’t funny—where are you?” I called, but the house was quiet, except for the soft hum of the fridge. Then I saw it: a note on the kitchen table.
“Don’t search for me.”
At first, I thought it was one of his pranks, but something felt off. I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. Panic set in. I called his mom—nothing. His best friend? Still nothing. Matthew had vanished.
When I went to the police, they wouldn’t open a case. “Adults have the right to disappear,” they said. I went home, heartbroken, and tried to explain it to our kids. “Daddy’s gone away for a while,” I told them, unsure what else to say.
Days passed in a blur. Then, out of the blue, my mother-in-law called and shattered my world.
“Matthew is here… with another woman and their baby. He’s using your joint account and planning to divorce you,” she said, guilt lacing her voice. “I didn’t want to keep this from you any longer. Protect yourself and the kids.”
Shaking, I contacted a lawyer.
Soon after, I got another call—from her.
“Abbie, it’s Lisa. I’m the woman Matthew’s been seeing. I need to talk to you,” she said.
I wanted to hang up. But something in her voice made me pause. We met at a café, and she came clean: “He lied to both of us. I didn’t know he was leaving you like this. I want to help.”
She handed me messages and emails—proof of his manipulation. Despite the pain, I realized she was sincere.
With her help and my lawyer’s support, we took action: froze the accounts, gathered evidence, and prepared for confrontation.
Finally, we showed up at my mother-in-law’s house—me, Lisa, and the authorities.
Matthew was stunned. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
“It’s over,” I said. “You won’t hurt us anymore.”
Police served him a restraining order and divorce papers. As he was taken away, I felt a wave of relief. I turned to Lisa and Claire, tears in my eyes.
“Thank you. I couldn’t have done this alone.”
Now, it’s time to rebuild—with strength, support, and my children by my side.
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