I came home after work, went up to the floor, and rang the doorbell as usual. Silence. I knocked—again, no answer. I took out my keys and entered.
The scene that greeted me knocked the breath out of me. The TV was on. The fridge door was slightly open. On the floor, scattered items: t-shirts, towels, children’s toys.
I took a few more steps and peeked into the bathroom—there was a puddle of water. As if someone had rushed out of there in a hurry.
Where is my wife? Where is my son? I couldn’t understand anything. My wife’s phone was off.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. To be continued below ⬇️⬇️
I’ve been married for three years. My wife and I met at work—a typical story: joint projects, shared lunches, long conversations. After the wedding, life changed.
She got pregnant and went on maternity leave, while all the financial responsibilities fell on me. My workdays became a routine: mornings at the office, evenings at home. My wife took care of the house, looked after our son, cooked dinner, and I knew that when I returned, I would find the usual comfort.
But that evening felt strange from the very beginning.
I opened the front door, went up to the floor, and rang the doorbell. Silence. I knocked again—no response. Maybe she’s in the bathroom? But she always hears my footsteps. I took out my keys and entered.
The scene that greeted me knocked the breath out of me. The TV was on. The fridge door was slightly open. On the floor, scattered items: t-shirts, towels, children’s toys.
I took a few more steps and peeked into the bathroom—there was a puddle of water. As if someone had rushed out of there in a hurry.
Where is my wife? Where is my son?
My mind was racing. The first thought that crossed my mind was a robbery. But we don’t have any money or valuables in the house. So what happened? Why does everything look like someone fled, leaving everything behind?
I nervously dialed my wife’s number. It rang. Then, the cold, indifferent voice of the voicemail: “The subscriber is temporarily unavailable.”
My heart was pounding like crazy. Maybe I was just a few minutes too late? Maybe if I had come earlier, I could have changed something?
At that moment, I heard footsteps behind me.
“Ah, honey, you’re home already?” her voice called out.
I turned around sharply. My wife was standing in the doorway with a shopping bag. Calm. Smiling.
“What happened here? Where is our son? Why is your phone off?”
She calmly took off her coat, placed her bag on the table.
“How was your day?”
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“What happened?! WHERE IS THE CHILD?!”
She looked at me, raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Calm down. He’s at my mom’s. I just went to the store for half an hour.”
“And… what about this mess?”
She smiled and sat down on the couch.
“Why don’t you ask me what I’ve been doing today?”
I frowned.
“What?”
She stretched, yawned sweetly, and smiled as she said:
“Nothing. I was just resting.”
