When Michael learns unsettling news concerning his health, his world turns upside down. The situation worsens when he harbors suspicions about his wife, Jen, betraying him with the last person he would have imagined. During a tense Thanksgiving gathering, hidden truths come to light, testing loyalties and altering one family’s holiday forever.

On Thanksgiving day, Michael stormed out of his parents’ house. Behind him, a scene of chaos erupted—voices clashed, chairs screeched, and hands were thrown up in disbelief.

Food splattered against the kitchen walls, and plates clattered onto the floor, still half-filled. Jen’s voice sliced through the upheaval, cracking as she pleaded, “Michael, please! Don’t walk away, just listen to me!”

Her face was flushed and streaked with tears, her hand reaching for him, fingers trembling. Yet, he couldn’t look back. He couldn’t bear to.

Standing near the doorway, his brother Terry looked small and guilty, like a child caught in a lie. Their parents shouted, each blaming the other for how things had gone awry.

A Few Weeks Earlier

Michael drove home from a hospital visit, replaying the doctor’s words in his head. He clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles white as he pondered how to tell Jen about the diagnosis.

Would she leave him after the news? Just the thought sent a fresh wave of dread washing over him. He sat in his car, engines idling, gazing at the darkened windows, trying to muster the strength to face his wife. His phone buzzed.

@Jen:

When are you coming home? I’ve been waiting.

Michael took a deep breath, stepped out, and walked to the house. There stood Jen, beaming. He attempted a smile but felt weighed down by worry.

“Are you okay?” Jen asked, examining Michael’s expression. Her eyes searched his, sensing his distress.

Michael paused, his mouth dry. “We need to talk,” he said.

Jen tilted her head, her smile gentle yet curious. “Wait, before that, I have something for you,” she informed him, her voice radiant. She grabbed his hand with childlike enthusiasm. “Come with me.”

She ushered him into the bedroom, where tiny baby socks lay beside a small box on the bed. Michael stared, befuddled, struggling to process the moment.

“What is this?” he stammered.

Jen’s eyes glistened. “I wanted to surprise you! If I just told you, it wouldn’t have been special.” She pointed at the box. “Open it.”

Trembling, Michael opened the box, revealing a positive pregnancy test. A chill surged through him. This couldn’t be.

“How is this possible?” he muttered.

Jen’s smile widened. “I don’t know, yet, I’m finally pregnant! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yes… yes, I’m happy,” Michael replied as she hugged him. But inside, doubt and turmoil raged, fueled by the doctor’s words he couldn’t shake: “You’re infertile. You won’t be able to have children.”

This revelation altered everything Michael envisioned for his future with Jen. Now, confronted with a positive pregnancy test, an unsettling thought seized him.

There could only be one explanation. Jen, his partner of over 15 years, the woman he believed he knew better than anyone, had been unfaithful.

Days passed, and at breakfast, Jen and Michael shared the table. “So, we’re going to your folks’ place for Thanksgiving?” Jen asked, idly stirring her coffee. “Your parents, your brother… oh, and my family will be there too.”

Michael nodded stiffly. “Yeah.”

Jen gazed downward, smiling. “But let’s not spill the beans about the pregnancy yet. It’s early. Let’s wait, maybe until Christmas. Keeping it between us makes it special.”

“Whatever you want,” Michael replied, his voice edged with tension. But internally, his emotions were a turbulent storm. He wished to confront her, demanding answers for her betrayal.

Could he ever forgive her? Could he raise another man’s child? He had considered adoption before learning of his infertility, but this situation felt altogether different. The pain of her betrayal was too great.

Jen studied him closely. “You’re lost in thought again,” she laughed softly.

“Yes, sorry,” Michael muttered before glancing at the clock. “I have to head out.” She leaned in to kiss him goodbye, but he felt only revulsion at her touch.

Michael left the house, gripping the steering wheel tightly, thoughts consumed by the day’s mission. He wasn’t headed to work but seeking answers. He parked discreetly near their home, watching the front door, his heart racing.

This was the moment he’d been waiting for, needing to confirm his worst suspicions. All he wanted was to glimpse the man Jen had preferred. To see the face of the person who claimed the place he once had, who fathered her child.

Ever since discovering the affair, doubt plagued him. What was his mistake? Was he inadequate? Only Jen could answer, but he wasn’t ready to confront her openly. He required irrefutable proof first.

A car pulled up, drawing his focus back. He watched as Jen exited, her demeanor calm and unhurried. She drove off, unaware that Michael carefully shadowed her route.

Together, they navigated the streets until Michael discerned the destination: a house familiar to him. His stomach churned with anger and disbelief. Of all people, she chose HIM.

His hands wavered on the door handle, itching to storm inside, demanding confrontation.

Yet, a quieter, more cunning thought settled in his mind. Why let them escape unscathed? Thanksgiving was coming, and he wanted them to face the gravity of their actions publicly.

Thanksgiving morning, as Michael and Jen entered his parents’ house, Michael surveyed the room full of familiar faces. His mom, Mila, diligently arranged the table; his dad, Roger, chatted warmly with Jen’s parents, Carla and Scott.

Standing by the doorway, laughing with that signature grin, was Terry – Michael’s elder brother, and the least welcome presence in the room.

Upon seeing Terry, Michael’s resentment ignited, burning hotter than ever. Terry had always been seen as the cherished one, infinitely charming.

“Little brother!” Terry exclaimed, approaching to muss Michael’s hair familiarly as he had since childhood.

Michael flinched, stepping back and shrugging off Terry’s hand abruptly. “Don’t,” he muttered abruptly.

“Where’s your manners?” Terry chortled, unaffected, turning to greet the others.

In the kitchen, Michael quickly greeted his mother, while internally bracing for the show to come. Family reunions remained pretentious affairs, with distant relatives feigning closeness, displaying fake smiles and superficial hugs.

It seemed to Michael that Thanksgiving had always been about rallying distant relatives together. At last, Mila suggested they express what they were grateful for before dining.

Everyone spoke, offering words of gratitude covered in a facade of genuine warmth. Michael’s turn loomed, and he prepared to unleash everything.

When his moment came, he rose, raising his glass with spiteful composure, eyes fixed around the table. “Today, on this beautiful day,” he started, his voice calm, “I am thankful for one thing—that my beautiful wife, Jen, is pregnant!”

A wave of silence fell upon the room. Jen turned pale, quickly standing to lean in close. “Michael,” she whispered, “we agreed not to share this just yet.”

Michael’s expression shifted, hardening. “We also agreed to fidelity in marriage,” he retorted coldly, his words cutting through her.

Oblivious to the tension, Mila beamed. “Michael! Congratulations!” she cheered, clapping hands together.

“Years we’ve waited for our daughter to have a child,” Carla said, grinning, Scott nodding along proudly.

Roger’s eyes sparkled with pride. “My son, becoming a dad! Fantastic news.”

Michael’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Oh, it’s great news. Except it’s not me you’re celebrating,” he declared, his eyes narrowing. “Because the child’s father is Terry.”

A chorus of gasps echoed around the table. Terry’s face turned ghostly, and he sat wordlessly, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Michael, why are you saying this?” Jen’s voice trembled, her eyes wide with shock. “Terry? Why accuse him? You’re my husband; this child’s yours!” She reached for his hand, but Michael pulled it away, his face like stone.

“Don’t fool me, Jen. I saw you at his house,” he stated sharply. “Why Terry? After everything else? You’re aware of my feelings—always overshadowed by Terry. Now, even my own wife has chosen him over me.”

Terry shifted, protests ready. “It’s nothing like you think, brother. She was helping me with decor ideas. She took design classes; I wanted her input. That’s all.”

“Right, Michael, it’s only that,” Jen agreed, her voice breaking. “Trust me.”

Michael shook his head with icy detachment. “Jen, I can’t father children.”

Jen’s face blanched white. “What? You didn’t say.”

“I discovered this the day you showed me the test,” he said calmly.

“Michael, please. I’ll cut ties with Terry, never see him again, I vow. Don’t leave me,” she pleaded.

“Tomorrow, expect divorce papers,” he replied flatly. “Sign them. I’m thankful you’ve shown who’s truly lacking here, as I’d never do this to you.”

Michael drained his glass swiftly, feeling its warmth, then placed it on the table decisively. Without another look back, he moved towards the door, each step measured.

Behind, voices roared anew, tinged with confusion and anger. He caught snippets—Jen’s desperate pleas, his mother’s shocked response, his father’s attempts to calm the room. Perhaps plates clattered and food splattered, mirroring the tumult within his heart.

At the door, he paused briefly, gripping the handle tightly, then shut it with a resolute click. This would be their last Thanksgiving together as a family.

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This story is crafted from our readers’ real-life changes, by a professional storyteller. Similarities to actual people or locations are unintended. Illustrations are conceptual.