Once upon a time, I met Frankie, a fluffy Great Pyrenees puppy with one eye and three paws, in a shelter. At that moment, I felt a deep connection with him. You see, life had been really tough for me after losing my parents in a car crash. I was so sad that I even tried to hurt myself twice. But when I saw Frankie, something inside me clicked. It was like we were meant to be together.
Frankie wasn’t just a pet to me; he became my best friend, my rock. His love filled the hole in my heart left by my parents. I was so grateful for him that I made sure he had everything he needed, even when I was at work. I set up cameras at home just to keep an eye on him.
He loved snacks, belly rubs, and cuddles, and I loved him more than anything in the world. I told my girlfriend, Leslie, all about Frankie and how much he meant to me. She seemed to understand until we talked about moving in together.
One day, while we were looking for a house, Leslie said something that shocked me. She said Frankie couldn’t come with us. I thought she was joking at first, but she wasn’t. We argued for hours, but I refused to leave Frankie behind. He had saved me, and I couldn’t abandon him.
Leslie left in anger, and we didn’t talk for days. It was hard without her, but I knew I had to stand by Frankie. He was more than just a dog; he was my lifeline.
I realized then that any future partner would have to accept Frankie as part of our family. He was a symbol of my strength and healing, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
Weeks passed, and Leslie finally reached out to me. She wanted to make things work, but she still didn’t want Frankie around. I missed her, but I couldn’t give up Frankie for anyone.
Eventually, Leslie left, and I was heartbroken. But I stayed true to myself and Frankie. Then, one day, I found Frankie was gone. Leslie had taken him to a shelter while I was out. I was furious and hurt.
But fate had other plans. I found Frankie with a woman named Emma and her daughter Olivia. Frankie had brought them together, just like he did for me. Emma understood how much Frankie meant to me, and we formed a bond over our shared love for him.
In the end, Emma and I fell in love, and we got married. Frankie was there with us, a symbol of the love and strength that brought us together. Through all the ups and downs, Frankie showed us the power of love and resilience.
Our story may have had a rocky start, but in the end, we found happiness and love in the most unexpected places. And it’s all thanks to Frankie, our furry guardian angel.
My Blood Ran Cold When I Opened My Husband’s Drawer the Day After Moving In
Freya was excited to start her new life as a newlywed and moved into her husband George’s family estate. However, a warning from Valerie, the maid, about George’s secret life quickly shattered their vows.
Brimming with post-wedding joy, I moved into my husband’s enchanting family home, complete with high ceilings, arches, fountains, and flowers everywhere.
George had wanted me to settle in before we left for our honeymoon in the South of France.
Yet, things weren’t as perfect as they seemed. From the start, the maid, Valerie, gave me looks that seemed to say, “You don’t belong here.” I tried to shake it off, determined to stay. Valerie would have to get used to it.
A few days into moving in, I decided to make breakfast for my new family. The house was massive, and George’s younger siblings still lived at home, so I prepared a large meal.
Valerie watched me closely in the kitchen, making me nervous. When I reached for my phone to look up egg recipes, it was missing.
“Have you seen my phone?” I asked Valerie, certain it had been on the table in front of her.
Valerie barely glanced at me and shook her head.
“I’d hurry up with the breakfast if I were you,” she said coldly. “The family expects it on the table before they come downstairs.”
Taking her advice, I finished the breakfast as Valerie left the kitchen.
I eventually found my phone on the seat Valerie had just vacated. The message on the screen turned my world upside down:
Check your husband’s drawer. The top left one, specifically. Then RUN!
My heart pounding, I made my way to our bedroom, the warning replaying in my mind. Valerie had tidied the room and folded our clothes from the night before.
I hesitated before opening the drawer, dreading what I might find. What secrets was George hiding?
Inside, I found a stack of letters tied with a faded ribbon and an old key. The letters, written by my husband, were to someone named Elena.
I sat on our bed and read through them all — each letter spoke of a love and future he promised to someone else.
With each word, my heart shattered. The last letter was a goodbye, dated just three days before George proposed to me.
And the key?
“Do you know what this key is for?” I asked Ivy, George’s younger sister, when it didn’t fit any locks in our room.
“Oh, I think it’s for the attic,” she said, inspecting the key. “It has to be; that was George’s favorite room. It’s always been so dark and drafty to me. I haven’t been there in years.”
I found my way to the attic. It was just as dark and drafty as Ivy had said.
But when I turned on the light, I was horrified.
The walls were covered in photographs of George and a woman — presumably Elena. Their love was evident in every picture, mocking me and our marriage.
I collapsed into the only armchair in the room, overwhelmed. Then I saw an ultrasound on the wall beneath a photograph of George and Elena dancing in a courtyard.
George and Elena had been expecting a baby. Of course, they had.
How had he hidden this from me for so long?
I examined each photograph, grappling with the reality that George had abandoned Elena and their unborn child.
“Freya?” came a soft voice from the doorway.
“Valerie,” I said, suddenly cautious.
“You weren’t supposed to find out this way,” she said sympathetically.
“You knew about this?” I asked, unsure how to react.
She nodded slowly.
“Elena is my sister. She thought you deserved to know the truth. She gave me the letters, and I put them in George’s drawer this morning.”
“And the baby?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Valerie leaned against the wall and explained. When the family was planning their Christmas party two years ago, Valerie had asked Elena to help with the cleaning.
“They immediately hit it off and fell in love. But when Elena found out she was pregnant and that the baby had Down syndrome, George didn’t want to be involved.”
Valerie explained that George had wanted to marry Elena out of love, but when he learned about the baby’s condition, he saw them as a burden.
“He promised to fight for her with his family, but everything changed.”
We then went to the living room where the family was gathered — George was absent. I told his parents about the letters and the attic full of photographs.
Valerie revealed everything about Elena and her baby.
When we finished, George walked in, clearly having overheard the conversation.
“Is this true?” his father demanded.
George’s silence was a damning admission.
His family quickly disowned him. George was cut off, and his inheritance was redirected to support Elena and her unborn child.
As for me?
I was granted a swift divorce — George didn’t even contest it, broken by the loss of his wealth. My ex-in-laws gave me a fresh start with assets initially meant for George.
I sold some of the assets and founded an organization to support children with disabilities, ensuring Elena’s baby was well cared for. Valerie manages the foundation with input from me and George’s mother, who cut ties with her son the moment she learned about the baby.
What would you have done if you were in my shoes?
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