Wick€d Husband Starve Wife And Child But Was Shocked At What Happened Next
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A New Beginning
In a quiet apartment, a little boy named Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, clutching his faded teddy bear. “Mom, is Dad coming home tonight?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. The clock ticked past 9:00 p.m., and the air felt heavy with uncertainty. Emily, his mother, looked at him, forcing a smile that wobbled at the edges. She brushed the hair from his forehead, blinking back her own tears. “I don’t know, sweetheart. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
The truth hung in the air like a storm cloud: Mark wasn’t coming back. He had left three days ago, and each passing day felt like a punch to the gut. Earlier that evening, Emily had called his phone for the fifteenth time, only to reach voicemail. Each unanswered call deepened her despair.
As she glanced around their small living space, the unpaid bills piled on the table caught her eye—red letters marked “final notice” loomed ominously. She felt the walls closing in, but she wouldn’t let Ethan see her break. Not yet.
“Mom, do you think Dad is mad at me?” Ethan’s innocent question pierced her heart. She hugged him tighter, wishing her arms could shield him from the pain. “No, honey. Your dad’s just having a hard time. It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault.” But the worry in his big brown eyes told her he didn’t believe her words.
Ethan tugged at her sleeve. “He promised he’d take me to the park.”
Emily’s heart cracked. “I know, baby. Sometimes adults break promises, but I won’t. I promise.” She watched as he lay back down, drifting off to sleep with his teddy bear pressed against his chest.
Once Ethan was asleep, Emily crept into the kitchen and flicked on the light, staring into the empty fridge. One egg, half a loaf of stale bread, and a single apple were all that remained. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it, determined to save what little food there was for Ethan.
She sank into a chair, buried her face in her hands, and let the tears come—quiet, desperate, ugly tears. This wasn’t the life she had imagined. She remembered the early years with Mark: sweet words, midnight walks, the promise of forever. All lies, it seemed.
Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. It was a message from her friend Mia. “Sorry to hear about Mark. If you want to talk, I’m here, but I’m busy this week.” Emily set the phone aside, feeling the sting of abandonment. Even her friends were fading away as if Mark’s betrayal was contagious.
The next morning, Emily woke early and made Ethan toast with a thin smear of jam—the last in the jar. She took a sip of water to silence her own hunger. “Can we go to the park after breakfast?” Ethan asked, his eyes wide with hope.
“Maybe tomorrow,” she replied, forcing a smile.
A knock at the door startled her. It was Mr. Harris, the landlord, arms crossed and face tight. “Morning, Emily. Rent’s due. Don’t make me chase you.”
“I know,” Emily said, shame burning her cheeks. “I’ll have it soon.”
“You said that last month.” He glanced at Ethan, softened a bit, but shook his head. “You’ve got five days. After that, I have to find someone who can pay.”
“Sorry, business is business.”
Emily closed the door slowly, feeling the weight of his words. Ethan looked at her with worried eyes. She ruffled his hair, trying to mask her fear.
The day blurred as Emily searched for jobs online. Waitressing, cleaning, babysitting—every post required experience or references she didn’t have. Her phone buzzed again, this time a reminder about another bill. She shut the laptop and pressed her palms to her eyes, feeling defeated.
Ethan looked up from his coloring book. “Mom, are we going to the park today?”
“Not today, sweetie. Maybe tomorrow.”
The lie hurt, but she had no energy for anything else. Suddenly, a cough escaped Ethan. “My tummy hurts,” he said, rubbing his stomach.
Emily crouched beside him, worried. “Are you hungry?”
He shook his head, but she saw the truth in his eyes. “I have to do something,” she thought.
Determined, she bundled Ethan in his jacket and stepped out into the chill. They walked to the corner store, where the smell of fresh bread made her dizzy. She hesitated outside, looking through the window at rows of golden loaves.
With a deep breath, she pushed the door open, and the bell chimed. Mrs. Green, the cashier, glanced up. “Morning, Emily. Just browsing?”
“Hi, Mrs. Green. I was wondering if you had any old bread. Maybe yesterday’s. I could pay next week.”
Mrs. Green shook her head. “Your bills are already over $50. The owner told me no more until you pay something.”
Emily felt her cheeks burn. “Okay, maybe next time.”
As she walked out, her shoulders hunched, she remembered when people in the neighborhood greeted her with warmth. Now, she was the poor single mom people whispered about.
On the way home, she saw Mark’s car parked outside a new cafe. Through the window, she spotted him laughing with a young woman—long hair, bright smile, manicured nails. Emily felt like she’d been punched. She walked faster, dragging Ethan along.
That evening, she called her sister, Lisa. “I need help,” Emily said quietly.
“Just a little. Maybe some groceries or a place for Ethan to stay while I look for work.”
A long pause followed. “Emily, I told you I have my own life. My kids are busy. You should have been smarter with Mark.”
Emily’s voice broke. “He took everything. Ethan’s hungry.”
“Maybe try Mom,” Lisa suggested coldly.
Emily hung up, feeling the world grow colder.
As night fell, the apartment seemed darker. She tucked Ethan into bed, humming softly until he slept. Alone, Emily paced the living room, the hunger, fear, and loneliness overwhelming her. She looked out the window at the city lights, thinking about how quickly a life could fall apart.
She grabbed her old purse, digging inside, hoping for forgotten change. Instead, her fingers brushed something folded—a crumpled wedding photo. She pulled it out, staring at the smiling faces, Mark’s arm around her, Ethan a baby in her arms.
In a moment of clarity, she tore it in half, feeling strangely calm.
That night, sleep wouldn’t come. At 3:00 a.m., she heard a noise in the kitchen. Rats, maybe, searching for crumbs. She got up, made sure Ethan was still sleeping, and sat on the couch.
When morning arrived, Emily found three coins at the bottom of her purse. Not enough for bread, but maybe enough for a bus ride. She bundled Ethan up and left, determined to try every shop, every neighbor. But nobody could help.
Some didn’t answer the door, some said, “Maybe next week.” One old friend slipped her a granola bar with an embarrassed look.
That evening, Emily sat on the floor with Ethan, splitting the bar in half. “Look, a feast,” she said, forcing a laugh.
Ethan giggled just a little. “Thank you, Mommy.”
As he drifted to sleep, Emily whispered a prayer she wasn’t sure she believed in. “Please, just one good thing.”
But outside, the rain kept falling, and the world felt far away.
Days passed, and Emily lost track of time. Hunger and worry blurred them together. The little she managed to feed Ethan showed on his face. He was paler now, slower to laugh, but still sweet, always hopeful.
One morning, Emily woke to the sound of Ethan coughing. She touched his forehead—warm, too warm. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
He shook his head, but she saw the truth in his eyes. “I have to do something.”
She bundled Ethan in his jacket and lifted him into her arms, stepping out into the chill again.
This time, they headed for the nearest pharmacy. Emily pressed a trembling hand to the glass, watching as people picked up their prescriptions, paying and leaving with full bags.
“Can I help you?” the pharmacist asked.
“My son has a fever and a cough. Could I please get the smallest bottle of children’s syrup? I’ll pay you Friday.”
The pharmacist hesitated. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We don’t do credit. Store policy.”
Emily felt everyone’s eyes on her as she nodded quickly and mumbled, “Thanks,” hurrying out before the tears fell.
On the street, she sat Ethan on a bench, feeling empty. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath.
Suddenly, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down, revealing a man in a crisp suit. He glanced at Emily, then at Ethan, before driving off without another word.
That evening, Ethan’s cough worsened. Emily wrapped him in blankets, rubbing his back. “Mom, are we poor?” he asked, his voice weak.
Emily’s heart twisted. “We’re just having a tough week, that’s all.”
As night fell, she felt the weight of despair closing in. The bills piled up, and the threats from Mark echoed in her mind.
The next morning, she found herself at the corner store again, desperation clawing at her. She asked for bread, but Mrs. Green shook her head.
“Sorry, Emily. No more credit.”
Emily left, feeling the sting of defeat.
Then, she spotted Jacob, the man from the black car, standing at the entrance.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched on his face.
“I’m fine,” Emily replied, though her voice trembled.
“I can help,” he said.
Emily shook her head. “I can’t accept charity.”
Jacob’s expression softened. “It’s not charity. It’s a chance to get back on your feet.”
After a moment, she nodded, feeling the weight of her pride slipping away.
“I’ll take it,” she said.
Jacob handed her a bag filled with groceries and a few bills. “Just pay it forward one day.”
Emily felt overwhelmed with gratitude. “Thank you, Jacob. I will.”
As she walked home, groceries in hand, she felt hope flickering inside her.
That evening, as she tucked Ethan into bed, he smiled. “Thank you, Mom.”
Emily kissed his forehead, tears of relief falling. “We’re going to be okay, baby. I promise.”
The next day, Emily started her new job at the Brooks Foundation. She poured her heart into every task, determined to prove herself.
But whispers followed her, and she felt the weight of judgment.
On her lunch break, she spotted Mark outside the building. He looked disheveled and desperate.
“Emily, I need to see Ethan,” he pleaded.
“No,” she replied firmly. “You lost that right when you left us.”
Mark’s expression hardened, and he threatened to take her to court.
Emily felt fear creeping in, but she stood her ground. “I won’t let you take him from me.”
As the weeks passed, Emily found strength in her new job and the support of Jacob.
But Mark’s threats lingered, and Emily knew she had to be vigilant.
One afternoon, as she walked home, she saw Lisa sitting on the curb, suitcase beside her.
“Please, can I stay with you?” Lisa begged.
Emily hesitated, remembering the past, but she nodded. “Come inside. We’ll figure it out.”
As they settled in, Emily realized they were building something new from what was broken.
That night, as she lay awake, she thought about everything she had survived.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window, and Ethan laughed as he played with his teddy bear.
Emily felt hope blooming in her heart.
One day, she would find a way to heal, not just for herself but for Ethan and even for Lisa.
As they gathered around the table for breakfast, Emily whispered a silent prayer of gratitude.
“Thank you for giving me a chance.”
And in that moment, she knew they were finally on the path to a brighter future.
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