“Too Late for Sorry: Lessons from Husbands Who Didn’t Value Their Wives”

3 Eye-Opening Stories About Husbands Who Didn’t Appreciate Their Devoted Wives – And the Important Lessons They Learn in the End

Three Startling Tales of Husbands Who Didn’t Value Their Loyal Wives and the Crucial Lessons They Discovered Ultimately

A family is sometimes held together by the devotion of a wife. However, that love may wane if her sacrifices are disregarded or her attempts are disregarded. These tales examine how inconsiderate husbands drove their marriages to the breaking point.

Love isn’t necessarily about extravagant displays or ephemeral passionate times. Appreciating sacrifices, seeing the small things, and realizing that words have the power to uplift or depress someone are all important at times.

These three gripping tales demonstrate how miscommunications, a lack of gratitude, and misplaced priorities can strain relationships to their breaking point.

Before she leaves and takes everything with her, a man makes fun of his wife for not having a job.
The day I had been looking forward to arrived on a crisp, chilly October morning. After working through the night for six months,

I was finally ready to release the new gaming app that I had put my all into. It was this. the chance to finally receive the accolades I deserved and earn that six-figure salary.

I rushed into the dining room with my eyes fixed on my phone’s emails as the clock struck eight. Sara and our two little boys, Cody and Sonny, were seated at the table, but I hardly saw them.

Softly, “Morning, honey,” Sara said.

The boys yelled, “Good morning, Daddy!” together.

I didn’t answer. Still distracted by my phone, I picked up a slice of toast and turned back to the bedroom to get ready.

While searching the closet, I yelled, “Sara, where’s my white shirt?” “I just put it in the wash with the other whites,” she exclaimed.

“What?!” I said, my annoyance exploding, as I rushed back into the dining room. “I asked you to wash that shirt three days ago, Sara! You know that’s my lucky shirt. I needed it for today!”

She tried to explain as her cheeks reddened, but I was too far gone.

I yelled, “Why can’t you ever do anything right?” “What am I supposed to wear now? Today’s a big day for me, and you can’t even manage a simple task?”

“Stop screaming, Harry,” she said in a barely audible whisper, “because the children are observing.”

“Oh, so now you care? But you don’t care enough to remember something important for me, huh?” I laughed. “You sit at home all day doing nothing. All you do is gossip with your friend downstairs. And you can’t even handle one small thing.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but I was too enraged to notice.

the day, I went to work, gave a fantastic presentation, and then I waited for the recognizable vibration in my pocket. After our arguments, Sara would always apologize by phone or text. However, my phone was silent when I drove home that night.

I mumbled, “Still mad at me, huh?” as I went to the florist to buy her a peace offering of her favorite white roses.

I proclaimed, “Honey, I’m home!” and threw my keys on the counter. I was met with silence.

“Sara?” I asked as I made my way to the living room and noticed a note on the coffee table, secured with a red marker.

“I want a divorce.”

I read it over and over again, my hands shaking. It must have been a joke. However, it wasn’t.

I called Zara, her sister, in a panic.

She said, “Sara’s in the hospital, Harry,” in a chilly tone.

“The hospital? What happened?”

“Stress, exhaustion…all of it. Because of you.”

When I saw her after my hasty trip to the hospital, I hardly recognized the lady I had once loved. Her soul was broken, and she appeared exhausted.

She whispered, “Harry, don’t,” while I was trying to clarify. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m done. Divorce is the only thing I want.”

“Sara, please…think about the kids.”

“I’ve thought about them. They’re staying with you…for now. I’m not in a place where I can take care of them.”

I assumed it was only temporary and that she would come back after things had calmed down. However, a week and then a month went by. One evening, I realized something was wrong when I got home.

The house was even more empty; Sara had lost her favorite cup with the Eiffel Tower, her clothes, and her perfume. She had truly abandoned me.

After five months, everything had collapsed. The promotion for which I longed? Lost. I was consistently late, missing deadlines, and barely surviving my job. I made an effort to balance work and the kids, but it was impossible. Both were failing me.

Then the unexpected call arrived.

“Harry, can we meet for a quick chat at five? You know…the café where we first…?”

I felt a glimmer of hope when I noticed her seated there, holding a latte cup.

“Hey,” I sat down and whispered quietly.

Her eyes darted away as she said, “Hey…how are the boys?”

“They’re…fine. What’s this about, Sara?”

When she said, “I came to talk about them,” her voice broke. “I…I want custody.”

“Custody?!” I exclaimed. “After you left us like we didn’t exist, now you want custody?”

“I wasn’t in a good place, Harry. But I’m ready now. I want my boys back.”

The custody dispute was violent. I had to face the reality I had long denied while I was seated in court. Sara left because I had crushed her spirit, not because she didn’t love us.

She told the judge, “I was so depressed,” in a shaky voice. “Harry was always working…always angry. I tried to hold on, but I couldn’t anymore.”

Each of her remarks was a knife of remorse that struck me. Then the decision was made.

“Custody is granted to Ms. Sara Wills.”

The silence in my home seems louder than ever, even though it has been months since that day. I am reminded of what I lost every Sunday when I pack the boys’ belongings to send to Sara.

Cody’s little voice broke my heart as he questioned softly, “Daddy, are we not going to live as one happy family again?”

My throat constricted as I gave him a strong hug and muttered, “I’m so sorry, buddy.”

I felt a sharp, hollow pain in my chest as I watched Sara carry them away from me standing by the door. I had thought that supporting my family was sufficient, therefore I had spent so much time striving for success. However, I had overlooked the most crucial element: being present.

I had lost everything now.

As I arranged the table, setting down a drink, a flawlessly roasted chicken, and all of David’s favorite foods, the scent of sizzling spices permeated the air. “Perfect,” I muttered as a smile pulled at my mouth. Our fifth wedding anniversary made tonight more memorable. I had gone out of my way to make it memorable.

“David, you’re back!” I said as the front door creaked open.

However, his gaze swept me from head to toe, and the corners of his mouth twisted in hatred, in place of a warm grin or a tender hug.

“What the hell are you even wearing? You look fat in that,” he laughed. I felt like I was slapped across the face by his remarks.

My heart fell. He once told me how much he loved blue on me, which is why I got this dress. “Oh… don’t you like it, honey?” I said, my voice barely audible above a whisper. “It’s our fifth anniversary today… did you forget?”

“Of course not,” he snarled, clenching his jaw.

My chest fluttered with relief. Perhaps there was yet hope. Then he reached into his pocket and took out an envelope. I was a little excited because I had talked about how much I wanted to spend Christmas in Paris. Perhaps… Perhaps…

But my world fell apart when I ripped the letter open.

Divorce.

Tears clouded my vision as I staggered back. I muttered, “Tell me it’s a joke,” but David’s icy laugh reverberated throughout the room, freezing my blood.

He hissed, “I don’t have time for jokes,” “I hate you.”

“Why?” I stutteringly asked, gasping for air.

He remarked, “Just look at yourself,” his eyes narrowing in contempt. “You’ve let yourself go. You’re nothing like the woman I married.”

I pleaded with him to stay with me. “We can fix this, David. We can go to therapy. I love you…”

However, he had already begun packing.

“Therapist?” he ostracized. “Let me remind you — you’re the one who’s sick, not me.”

I tried to stop him by running after him as he bounded down the corridor. However, then…

He continued, “Someone’s waiting for me in the car,” with a sly smirk curving his lips.

“Who… who is it?”

“Jessica,” he whispered, his pride nauseating. “My secretary. Always fit, polished, and sexy.”

The air escaped my lungs. “You were… cheating on me?”

“Bingo!” with a sly smile. “Two tickets to Paris — one for me, one for the future I deserve.”

As I attempted to gather up the broken pieces of my life, days turned into weeks. I destroyed all of the memories we had created together, including our wedding pictures. However, the pain in my heart would not go away.

Then one day Veronica, my best friend, appeared.

Her expression was filled with worry as she yelled, “Meg, I’ve been calling you all week!”

“He’s gone,” I said in a hollow voice.

“David? Good riddance!” she dismissed with a grin. “I warned you, Meg. He was a jerk.”

“But… how do I move on?”

“You pick up the pieces,” Veronica replied, her eyes brimming with resolve, “and find happiness. The kind that doesn’t depend on someone else’s validation.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

She took my phone, installed a dating app, and smiled mischievously.

“High time you stopped mourning the Titanic and boarded a new ship!”

Despite rolling my eyes, I let her to do her magic. That’s how I got to know Robert.

One evening, a simple message reading, “Hi, you look gorgeous!” appeared on my screen. I was just wearing a towel and had under-eye patches on after taking a shower. I panicked and closed the app in embarrassment.

But my curiosity overcame me when his message reappeared the following morning.

“Hi, I’m Robert,” he typed. “But my friends call me Rob.”

“Megan,” I answered. “Friends call me Meg.”

“Nice to meet you, Meg.”

What he said felt… distinct. Warm. Real. He asked me out to supper before I realized it.

That night, as I stood in front of the mirror, prepared to meet Rob, the aroma of shea butter and English roses clung to my skin. Despite my butterflies in my stomach, I was willing to take a chance.

However, right before I left…

David strode in without an invitation, his voice echoing, “Going somewhere tonight?”

I whispered, “Just… out,” as I gripped my handbag.

“Signed the papers yet?” he asked in a tone that betrayed his lack of interest.

I said firmly, “It’s in the other pocket,” in response.

He looked me up and down and snarled, “Moving on already, are we?”

However, for the first time in a long time… His opinion didn’t matter to me.

Rob was honest, courteous, and attentive—everything David wasn’t. He smiled at my dumb jokes and listened to what I had to say. He proposed to me after we had been dating for a few months.

One evening, Rob held out a sparkling ring and murmured, “Ready to spend forever with me?”

“Yes,” I exhaled, my eyes welling with tears of joy.

A recognizable voice broke through the din as I waited for Rob at a restaurant months later.

“Megan.”

I pivoted… And he was there. David.

He said, “You look… great,” his confidence giving way to hesitancy.

“I’m doing well,” I said in a cool, collected tone.

He added, “Jessica and I… we’re separating,” with regret in his eyes.

I said, “I’m sorry to hear that,” but I wasn’t.

“I made a mistake, Megan. Leaving you… was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Rob’s voice boomed next to me before I could reply.

“Excuse me, may I help you?”

Rob held out his hand and David’s eyes grew wild.

“I’m Rob, Megan’s fiancé.”

As reality sunk in, David’s face became white.

Rob’s warm eyes met mine as he said, “Ready to go, beautiful?”

I responded, “Yes,” and put my hand in his.

I experienced an unaccustomed feeling of calm as we left. The agony of my past no longer bound me.

David was now only a faint recollection. And I was certain of one thing as I moved forward in life: I had at last discovered the love I was due.

After discovering the painful truth in her diary, a man makes fun of his wife for gaining weight after giving child.

I had always managed to balance work and home life with ease. I worked long hours as an accountant at a prestigious Santa Clara firm, yet I still found time to make sure my home was spotless.

My spouse, Chad, had been my staunchest ally. He constantly supported me during my darkest moments and helped out around the house. However, everything changed when I gave birth to our twins, Charlie and Lucas.

The happiest moment of our life was seeing those two pink lines on the pregnancy test after years of trying to conceive. I was as thrilled as Chad was. I made the decision to take a vacation from work to look after the twins when they came. I was mistaken to believe Chad would comprehend.

“All you do is sit on that couch, Lisa,” Chad made fun of me when I was rocking the infants one day. “At least start working out. Look at how much weight you’ve gained after pregnancy.”

I dismissed it with a feeble smile, assuming he was under stress from his job. However, the remarks continued.

“Losing a few pounds wouldn’t hurt, you know.”

I initially made an effort to ignore it. I was just too tired to protest. I hardly had time for myself between taking care of the house, feeding the twins, and restless nights. But with each remark, the hurt got worse.

I could see Chad growing aloof. He no longer acknowledged the small things I did, like taking care of the twins, cooking his favorite meals, and keeping the house clean. He would dismiss my suggestions for time spent together and go to bed.

I plucked up the guts to face him one night.

“Honey,” I murmured. “I know work’s been stressful, but we promised to be honest with each other. What’s going on?”

He answered, “Nothing, Lisa,” while keeping his eyes fixed on his laptop.

“Are you sure? Because I feel like—”

“Noticed what, Lisa?” he asked abruptly, his eyes glimmering with annoyance. “Can you let me work peacefully? Why do you have to put your nose in everything? Use that energy to work on yourself. When was the last time you looked in the mirror?”

My eyes welled up with tears. “Chad…”

“What? Are you going to cry now and make me look like the bad guy?” He yelled. “Look at your friends… and look at yourself. Why can’t you lose some weight?”

I suppressed my pain in the hopes that it would go away. I tried everything, including going on long walks, doing yoga in the mornings, and even sticking to a strict diet. But for Chad, it was insufficient.

“Are you doing this on purpose so I’ll leave you? Or… are you seeing someone behind my back? Where do you disappear every morning?” he said one day.

My voice broke as I muttered, “Are you serious, Chad?”

He whispered, “How would I know? You don’t care anymore. Maybe you’ve realized we’re not going to last,” and then he hurried away.

Days went by in agonizing quiet. Then one night everything went dark as I was cooking dinner.

I heard Chad’s frantic voice say, “Lisa!” just before I passed out.

I was in the hospital when I woke up. My ears rang with the doctor’s remarks.

“She’s exhausted and stressed. Her body is too weak to keep up.”

I was too exhausted to talk, but Chad clutched my hand and appeared shaken.

I was too exhausted to talk, but Chad clutched my hand and appeared shaken.

I stayed at the hospital that night, and Chad went home. He noticed my diary, a little leather-bound volume, as he was tidying up the bedroom.

He hesitated at first. Chad, it’s not appropriate to read her diary. However, his curiosity overcame him.

Hello PD.

Chad appears aloof these days. I’m hoping it’s just stress from work. I miss our previous relationship.

Hello PD.

Today, Chad made fun of my weight. He doesn’t notice, even though I’ve been trying really hard. I’m not sure if he still loves me. I feel unnoticeable.

As Chad turned the pages, his heart tightened.

Hello PD.

I thought of something! Before our anniversary, I’ll surprise Chad by dropping weight. I have been getting up early in order to go the gym. I simply want him to look at me the way he used to, even though it’s taxing.

Hello PD.

I feel so frail. The vitamins I’m taking at the gym are making me sick. But I’m unable to quit. I’m haunted by what Chad said. I’m not sure how long I can keep doing this.

Chad felt so guilty that his hands shook. I was completely blind. How could I have missed this?

I was shocked to see Chad at my side when I opened my eyes in the hospital the following morning. Beside me was a card and a bunch of my favorite lilies.

“Get well soon, honey. The kids and I miss you. Home isn’t the same without you…”
My eyes filled with tears as I gazed at him.

“I’m so sorry, Lisa,” Chad said in a heartfelt whisper. “I was blind. I hurt you, and I can never forgive myself for that.”

“Chad…”

With a kind touch, he took my hand and murmured, “No, Lisa. I need to say this,” “You are beautiful just the way you are. I was too blind to see how much you were doing for us. I’ll never let you feel that way again.”

Chad astonished me with a candlelit meal and soothing background music when I got home.

With kind eyes, he said, “Would you dance with me, Mrs. Thompson?”

“Yes,” I muttered, my eyes watering with relief.

I could tell Chad had changed that night. Once more, he was loving, caring, and supporting. Every day, he reassured me that I was ideal just the way I was.

After that day, Chad changed as a guy. He lavished me with love and gratitude, took me out on the weekends, and helped with the twins.

Even while I still go to the gym, I now do it for myself and no one else.