I Went to Pick Up My Wife and Newborn Twins from the Hospital — I Found Only the Babies and a Note

When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.

As I drove to the hospital, the balloons bobbed beside me in the passenger seat. My smile was unstoppable. Today, I was bringing home my girls!

A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney

A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t wait to see Suzie’s face light up when she saw the nursery, the dinner I’d cooked, the photos I’d framed for the mantle. She deserved joy after nine long months of back pain, morning sickness, and an endless carousel of my overbearing mother’s opinions.

It was the culmination of every dream I’d had for us.

I waved to the nurses at the station as I hurried to Suzie’s room. But when I pushed through the door, I froze in surprise.

A man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney

A man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney

My daughters were sleeping in their bassinets, but Suzie was gone. I thought she might have stepped out for fresh air, but then I saw the note. I tore it open, my hands trembling.

“Goodbye. Take care of them. Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.”

The world blurred as I reread it. And reread it. The words didn’t shift, didn’t morph into something less terrible. A coldness prickled along my skin, freezing me in place.

A man reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A man reading a note | Source: Midjourney

What the hell did she mean? Why would she… no. This couldn’t be happening. Suzie was happy. She’d been happy. Hadn’t she?

A nurse carrying a clipboard entered the room. “Good morning, sir, here’s the discharge —”

“Where’s my wife?” I interrupted.

The nurse hesitated, biting her lip. “She checked out this morning. She said you knew.”

A nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Pexels

A nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Pexels

“She — where did she go?” I stammered to the nurse, waving the note. “Did she say anything else? Was she upset?”

The nurse frowned. “She seemed fine. Just… quiet. Are you saying you didn’t know?”

I shook my head. “She said nothing… just left me this note.”

I left the hospital in a daze, cradling my daughters, the note crumpled in my fist.

A worried man leaving a hospital | Source: Midjourney

A worried man leaving a hospital | Source: Midjourney

Suzie was gone. My wife, my partner, the woman I’d thought I knew, had vanished without a word of warning. All I had were two tiny girls, my shattered plans, and that ominous message.

When I pulled into the driveway, my mom, Mandy, was waiting on the porch, beaming and holding a casserole dish. The scent of cheesy potatoes wafted toward me, but it did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside.

“Oh, let me see my grandbabies!” she exclaimed, setting the dish aside and rushing toward me. “They’re beautiful, Ben, absolutely beautiful.”

An excited woman | Source: Midjourney

An excited woman | Source: Midjourney

I stepped back, holding the car seat protectively. “Not yet, Mom.”

Her face faltered, confusion knitting her brow. “What’s wrong?”

I shoved the note in her direction. “This is what’s wrong! What did you do to Suzie?”

Her smile vanished, and she took the note with shaking fingers. Her pale blue eyes scanned the words, and for a moment, she looked like she might faint.

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

“Ben, I don’t know what this is about,” Mom replied. “She’s… she’s always been emotional. Maybe she —”

“Don’t lie to me!” The words erupted, my voice echoing off the porch walls. “You’ve never liked her. You’ve always found ways to undermine her, criticize her —”

“I’ve only ever tried to help!” Her voice broke, tears spilling over her cheeks.

I turned away, my gut churning. I couldn’t trust her words anymore. Whatever had happened between them had driven Suzie to leave. And now I was left to pick up the pieces.

A man carrying twin babies into a house | Source: Midjourney

A man carrying twin babies into a house | Source: Midjourney

That night, after settling Callie and Jessica in their cribs, I sat at the kitchen table with the note in one hand and a whiskey in the other. My mother’s protests rang in my ears, but I couldn’t let them drown out the question looping in my mind: What did you do, Mom?

I thought back to our family gatherings, and the small barbs my mother would throw Suzie’s way. Suzie had laughed them off, but I could see now, too late, how they must have cut her.

I started digging, both literally and metaphorically.

A man searching through a closet | Source: Midjourney

A man searching through a closet | Source: Midjourney

My sorrow and longing for my missing wife deepened as I looked through her things. I found her jewelry box in the closet and set it aside, then noticed a slip of paper peeking out beneath the lid.

When I opened it, I found a letter to Suzie in my mother’s handwriting. My heart pounded as I read:

“Suzie, you’ll never be good enough for my son. You’ve trapped him with this pregnancy, but don’t think for a second you can fool me. If you care about them, you’ll leave before you ruin their lives.”

A man reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A man reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

My hand shook as I dropped the letter. This was it. This was why she’d left. My mother had been tearing her down behind my back. I replayed every interaction, every moment I’d dismissed as harmless. How blind had I been?

It was almost midnight, but I didn’t care. I went to the guest room and banged on the door until Mom opened it.

“How could you?” I waved the letter in her face. “All this time, I thought you were just being overbearing, but no, you’ve been bullying Suzie for years, haven’t you?”

An angry man holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

An angry man holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

Her face paled as she scanned the letter. “Ben, listen to me —”

“No!” I cut her off. “You listen to me. Suzie left because of you. Because you made her feel worthless. And now she’s gone, and I’m here trying to raise two babies on my own.”

“I only wanted to protect you,” she whispered. “She wasn’t good enough —”

“She’s the mother of my children! You don’t get to decide who’s good enough for me or them. You’re done here, Mom. Pack your things. Get out.”

A man pointing | Source: Midjourney

A man pointing | Source: Midjourney

Her tears fell freely now. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” I said, cold as steel.

She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. The look in my eyes must have told her I wasn’t bluffing. She left an hour later, her car disappearing down the street.

The next weeks were hell.

A man with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney

A man with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney

Between sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and endless crying (sometimes the babies, sometimes me) I barely had time to think.

But every quiet moment brought Suzie back to my mind. I contacted her friends and family, hoping for any hint of where she might be. None of them had heard from her. But one, her college friend Sara, hesitated before speaking.

“She talked about feeling… trapped,” Sara admitted over the phone. “Not by you, Ben, but by everything. The pregnancy, your mom. She told me once that Mandy said the twins would be better off without her.”

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney

The knife twisted deeper. “Why didn’t she tell me my mom was saying these things to her?”

“She was scared, Ben. She thought Mandy might turn you against her. I told her to talk to you, but…” Sara’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I should’ve pushed harder.”

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“I hope so,” Sara said quietly. “Suzie’s stronger than she thinks. But Ben… keep looking for her.”

Weeks turned into months.

A man rocking a baby | Source: Midjourney

A man rocking a baby | Source: Midjourney

One afternoon, while Callie and Jessica napped, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unlisted number.

When I opened it, my breath caught. It was a photo of Suzie, holding the twins at the hospital, her face pale but serene. Beneath it was a message:

“I wish I was the type of mother they deserve. I hope you forgive me.”

I called the number immediately, but it didn’t go through.

A man making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A man making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

I texted back, but my messages didn’t go through either. It was like shouting into a void. But the photo reignited my determination. Suzie was out there. She was alive and at least a part of her still longed for us, even though she was clearly still in a bad place. I’d never give up on her.

A year passed with no leads or clues to Suzie’s whereabouts. The twins’ first birthday was bittersweet. I’d poured everything into raising them, but the ache for Suzie never left.

That evening, as the girls played in the living room, there was a knock at the door.

A home entrance interior | Source: Pexels

A home entrance interior | Source: Pexels

I thought I was dreaming at first. Suzie stood there, clutching a small gift bag, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked healthier, her cheeks were fuller, and her posture was more confident. But the sadness was still there, hovering behind her smile.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I didn’t think. I pulled her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I dared. She sobbed into my shoulder, and for the first time in a year, I felt whole.

A man hugging a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man hugging a woman | Source: Midjourney

Over the following weeks, Suzie told me how the postpartum depression, my mom’s cruel words, and her feelings of inadequacy had overwhelmed her.

She’d left to protect the twins and to escape the spiral of self-loathing and despair. Therapy had helped her rebuild, one painstaking step at a time.

“I didn’t want to leave,” she said one night, sitting on the nursery floor as the girls slept. “But I didn’t know how to stay.”

A woman sitting on a nursery floor | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a nursery floor | Source: Midjourney

I took her hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

And we did. It wasn’t easy — healing never is. But love, resilience, and the shared joy of watching Callie and Jessica grow were enough to rebuild what we’d almost lost.

Here’s another story: Thirteen years ago, I adopted my late husband’s secret twin daughters after his fatal car crash revealed his double life. I gave them everything, but at sixteen, they locked me out of my home. One week later, I discovered the shocking reason for their actions. 

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Teenage Daughter Was Against My Marriage to a New Man, and It Tore Our Family Apart — Story of the Day

Falling in love at 47 was something I never saw coming, especially after the heartbreak of my first marriage. Now, as I prepare to marry John, my teenage daughter, Emilia, is struggling to accept him. Balancing my love for John and my bond with Emilia, I’m faced with difficult choices and unspoken fears.

I never could have imagined that at 47, I would fall in love again, or that I would ever want a relationship after my failed first marriage, which ended 12 years ago.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For a long time, I thought I was done with love. My ex-husband had been horrible to me. He constantly nagged, telling me I wasn’t doing enough around the house, even though I worked just as much as he did.

His words cut deep, especially when he made fun of me for gaining weight after my pregnancy. He didn’t care how hard I was trying or how much I juggled. I knew he was cheating, but I forgave him every time.

I told myself it was for the sake of our family, for our daughter. But when my then 4-year-old Emilia saw him with another woman, something broke inside me. That was the final straw. I couldn’t live like that anymore.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The only good thing from that marriage is Emilia. She’s my everything—the best thing that ever happened to me. We’ve always been close.

For so long, it was just her and me, like a team against the world. I never thought I needed anyone else until a year ago when John came into my life.

John was different. He made me feel loved and cared for in ways I hadn’t felt in years. He treated Emilia with kindness, like she was his own daughter. Watching the two of them together gave me hope. I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, John could be the father Emilia never had.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But everything changed after he proposed. Suddenly, Emilia wasn’t the same. She argued with John, with me, and left the house every time he came over. I didn’t understand it, and it broke my heart.

One evening, I sat in the kitchen with John, staring down at my cup of tea. I sighed, feeling the weight of everything. “I don’t know what to do,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

John looked at me, concerned. “Maybe we should start meeting at my place instead?” he suggested.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head. “We’re getting married soon. What are we supposed to do, live apart then too?” I sighed again, feeling even more frustrated. “I don’t understand why she’s acting like this.”

John leaned back in his chair, thinking. “She’s jealous, Lucy. It’s been just you and her for so long. Now, you’ve got someone else in your life. Someone who’s taking up your time and love.”

“I guess,” I said. “But you two were fine before. She liked you.”

“That was different,” he replied calmly. “Back then, I was just your boyfriend. Now I’m going to be your husband and her stepfather. That’s a big change for her.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I nodded slowly. “You’re right. But I still don’t know what to do.”

John reached for my hand. “Talk to her,” he said softly.

I snorted, trying to hide my nerves. “Talk to a teenage girl? That’s like walking into a fire.”

John smiled. “No, talk to your daughter. She needs you.” I leaned my head on his shoulder, wishing I had the answers.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The next day, I knew I had to talk to Emilia. I stood outside her door for a moment before knocking. “Come in,” she said, sounding annoyed. I could almost hear her eyes rolling.

I stepped inside, feeling nervous, and sat down on the edge of her bed. She looked at me, waiting for me to speak. “I wanted to talk to you,” I said.

Emilia raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“I know it’s probably hard for you, with John becoming part of our family,” I said, trying to meet her gaze.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged. “It’s not hard. John’s fine.”

“Then why do you leave every time he comes over?” I asked, keeping my voice calm. “And why do you argue with him?”

“Just because,” she muttered.

I took a deep breath. “Look, just because I love John doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less. You’re my daughter, and—”

She cut me off, her voice rising. “I don’t believe that!” she shouted. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I have homework.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her words stung, but I stood up slowly. “Alright. But if you ever want to talk, you can always come to me. It’s still you and me against the world, remember?”

Emilia didn’t respond. I looked at her for a moment, hoping for something, but she stayed silent. With a heavy heart, I left the room.

As the wedding day got closer, Emilia’s behavior only got worse. Every decision John and I made, she had a problem with. If we liked a caterer, she’d complain about the menu.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

It wasn’t until we chose the one she recommended that the complaints stopped. Picking out my wedding dress became a two-week ordeal, and she insisted on making my bouquet herself.

I thought it was her way of staying involved, but each time she demanded something to be changed, I could feel the tension growing. She had her own dress altered seven times, and John quietly paid for each adjustment.

It wasn’t just the wedding preparations that were exhausting—it was seeing how much pain she was in. I knew she was struggling, but I didn’t know how to help. Her anger felt like a wall between us, and every day, it seemed to grow taller.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Maybe we should cancel the wedding,” I said to John one evening, my voice soft.

John looked at me, surprised. “What? Did I do something wrong?” he asked, concerned.

“No, you’re perfect,” I reassured him. “I love you, and that hasn’t changed. It’s just Emilia…”

John nodded, understanding. “This is really hard for her,” he said, confirming what I had feared all along.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yes,” I admitted, finally saying the words out loud. “I thought maybe if we just kept dating, she would come around. She might accept it better if we didn’t rush.”

John took a deep breath and said, “Lucy, I’ll support you no matter what. But this is your life, not Emilia’s. In two years, she’ll be in college, living her own life.”

“I know,” I replied, my chest tightening. “But it hurts to see her struggling like this.”

John reached for my hand. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here for both of you. We’ll figure it out together. I just want to make you both happy.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Then he paused as if considering something. “Actually, I’ve been thinking… I’d like to adopt Emilia. If she’s willing, of course. I already see her as my daughter.”

Tears filled my eyes as I threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. Somewhere in the hallway, I heard a small noise, but I didn’t pay it much attention. Right now, I was focused on the love and support I had right in front of me.

The wedding day had finally come, and I felt both excited and nervous. I prayed to every god I could think of, hoping everything would go smoothly. But it seemed my prayers went unheard. Just minutes before the ceremony, my friend Kyra hurried into the room, looking worried.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Lucy, we have a problem,” she said, her voice tense. My heart sank instantly. “Emilia hasn’t shown up yet.”

“What do you mean, she hasn’t shown up?” I asked, feeling my chest tighten.

“I don’t know,” Kyra said. “She’s not answering her phone or replying to texts.”

Panic rushed through me. I didn’t even think before I bolted out of the room to find John. When I saw him, I blurted out, “Emilia’s gone. She’s disappeared.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

John stayed calm. “Go find her,” he said with a small smile.

“But the ceremony starts in twenty minutes,” I said, unsure.

“Go,” he repeated, his voice gentle. “This wedding won’t mean anything if Emilia isn’t there.”

I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tight. In that moment, I knew—once again—that I had chosen the right man.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I had a feeling I knew where Emilia might be. My heart raced as I drove to the old playground we used to visit when she was younger. Sure enough, when I arrived, I spotted her sitting on one of the swings, her head down, gently swaying back and forth. Relief washed over me.

“Hey,” I said as I approached her, trying to keep my voice steady.

Emilia looked up at me, her eyes red and filled with tears. “Mom? What are you doing here? Isn’t your wedding starting soon?”

I sat down on the swing next to her and shook my head. “The ceremony doesn’t matter without you,” I said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She wiped her eyes and asked, “How did John take it? Did he leave you?”

“No, he didn’t leave,” I assured her. “He’s the one who sent me to find you. He told me the same thing I just told you—the ceremony won’t mean anything if you’re not there.”

Emilia blinked, surprised. “Really? He said that?”

I nodded. “What’s going on, Emilia? Why are you trying to stop the wedding? I thought you liked John.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s not that,” she muttered. “It’s… it’s just that it’s always been you and me. I thought it would always stay that way. What if he leaves us like Dad did? I couldn’t handle that again.”

Hearing her say that made my heart ache. “So that’s what this is about? You’re testing John?”

She sighed, her voice small. “Not on purpose… but maybe.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I reached over and took her hand. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to protect me. I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you. And trust me, John isn’t going anywhere. He loves both of us. He even told me he wants to adopt you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I overheard you two talking about it. That’s why I’m not at the ceremony right now. What if I let him in, and then he just… leaves? I’m scared, Mom.”

I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight. “Oh, baby. I’m scared too. But love is about taking risks. We don’t know the future, but we choose love because it’s worth it.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She rested her head on my shoulder. “I don’t know if I’m ready…”

“I get it,” I said softly. “But no matter what, you’ll always have me. No one, not even John, can change that. You and I? We’ve been a team from the start.”

Emilia let out a small laugh. “But now John’s part of the team too…”

I smiled and squeezed her hand. “It’s easier to fight with three of us, don’t you think?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She nodded, smiling a little. “I guess so.”

“Do you trust me?” I asked, looking her in the eyes. She nodded.

“And I trust John. Can you trust my trust?”

After a moment, she nodded again. “Yes.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I stood up, holding out my hand. “Then let’s go. I’m late to my own wedding,” I said with a wink.

Emilia took my hand, standing up beside me. We shared a tight hug, knowing that no matter what, we would always have each other.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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