For years, my husband mocked my weight, often using cruel remarks to chip away at my self-esteem. I turned to food for comfort, and our already strained marriage only worsened. The breaking point came when he humiliated me in public, comparing me to a slim, beautiful woman. That moment sparked a fire in me to take control of my life. What he didn’t expect was the talent I would soon reveal, leaving him speechless.
For as long as I can remember, I struggled with my weight. No matter how hard I tried, the extra pounds clung to me like an unwelcome shadow. My dream had always been to become a skilled pastry chef, and the kitchen became my sanctuary, where I spent countless hours perfecting my desserts. Creating art from flour and sugar was my escape, but tasting everything I made became part of the process. The more I baked, the more I ate, and before I knew it, the weight piled on faster than I could have imagined. Each glance in the mirror left me feeling like a stranger in my own body. And Bryce, my husband, only made it worse.
“Maybe if you spent more time at the gym and less in the kitchen, you’d look better in that dress,” he’d say with a smirk. Those words cut deep. I’d overhear him on the phone, laughing with his friends about my weight, thinking I couldn’t hear him. But I always did. And it hurt.
There was a time when I was always by Bryce’s side, the perfect, supportive wife. I attended all his work events, always with a smile, but as the pounds added up, my confidence plummeted. I stopped going out with him, becoming a shadow of the woman I used to be, hiding away in the kitchen while Bryce continued to live his life without me. I felt lost, drowning in a sea of self-doubt and loneliness.
Everything changed the night of an important event—the first one I was catering as a chef. My desserts were the highlight of the evening, a moment I had dreamed of for months. Bryce was also attending, as the party was hosted by his business partner, Rowan. As we arrived, I felt a wave of anxiety, smoothing down my dress nervously. But as soon as we stepped inside, I noticed Bryce’s attention drifting toward a slim, attractive woman across the room. Her name was Elise, and she captivated everyone with just a smile. Bryce’s gaze lingered on her.
“Now that’s how a woman should look in a dress,” he said, his voice dripping with admiration. Then, with a glance at me, he added, “Maybe you should ask her for some tips, sunshine.” His words stung, and I could feel my confidence crumbling with each passing moment. Bryce found every excuse to be near Elise, leaving me feeling more invisible than ever. I wanted to disappear.
That’s when I met Rowan. He was standing in the same corner, unnoticed by the crowd, but unlike me, he wore a warm smile. When he spoke, his gentle humor immediately put me at ease. We started talking, and the topic of my love for baking came up. Rowan listened with genuine interest and then surprised me with an opportunity. He suggested I try to win the tender for developing the dessert menu for his restaurant. My heart leaped at the chance, but before I could respond, Bryce appeared, loud and brash.
“Well, if it isn’t the star of the show,” Bryce said, turning to Rowan. “Thanks for the invitation, but we need to head home. Gotta drop Elise off as well, you know how it is.” Then, with a smug grin, he added, “You should consider Elise for your team. She’s got a real knack for culinary stuff. We had a great chat about it.” I could barely believe what I was hearing. My own husband was recommending a woman he’d just met, dismissing everything I had worked so hard for.
As soon as we got home, I confronted Bryce. “How could you suggest Elise, of all people, to Rowan? What about me? Don’t you think I’m capable?” Bryce shrugged, not even looking at me as he loosened his tie. “Oh, come on, sunshine. It was just a suggestion. Don’t take it so personally.”
Those words were the final straw. Inside, something shifted—a resolve I hadn’t felt in years. “I’ll show you,” I whispered to myself. “I’m going to prove that I’m worth something. You’ll see.”
I threw myself into my work, determined to make the most of Rowan’s offer. With a budget in hand and a team of assistants, I dedicated myself to developing the dessert menu. It wasn’t easy, but for the first time in years, I felt truly alive. I also started taking care of my health, beginning each day with a run and exercises at home. Each push-up and sit-up was a small victory, a step closer to reclaiming my confidence.
Bryce, of course, didn’t miss a chance to belittle me. “You think those leggings are doing you any favors?” he’d say, or “All this work, and for what? You’re still the same, Clara.” But I didn’t let his words deter me. I kept pushing forward, keeping Rowan’s competition a secret. This was something I had to do for myself.
The day of the competition finally arrived. The event was set up like a culinary show, with stations for each chef to present their creations. Judges and guests would taste each dish and decide the winner, who would secure the contract and represent the restaurant. As I looked around at the other chefs, all seasoned professionals, doubt began to creep in. What if I wasn’t good enough?
Then I saw Elise. She was even more stunning up close, her perfect figure only adding to my insecurities. “Well, well, if it isn’t the pastry princess,” she sneered. “Shouldn’t the buns be in the bakery, not hanging off the baker?” Her words cut deep, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. But when I saw Bryce with her, laughing and chatting, I felt my world collapse. He was there for her, not for me.
Just as I was about to walk away, Rowan appeared by my side. “Clara, I have high hopes for your dessert,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “But if you’re too weak to continue, you should leave now. I need a strong team. If you can’t handle the pressure, there’s no place for you here.” His words were blunt, but they reignited the fire inside me. “I can do this,” I whispered to myself, and then louder, “I’ll do this.”
I poured my heart into every detail of my desserts, blocking out everything else. When the results were announced, I stood there in disbelief. I had won the contract! Me—the woman who had been belittled and mocked by her husband—had won.
I looked over at Bryce, and for the first time, he was speechless. But the surprises didn’t stop there. Along with the contract came an opportunity to study in Paris, the culinary capital of the world. When the announcement ended, Bryce’s face twisted with anger. “What the hell, Clara?” he hissed, pulling me aside. “You did all this behind my back? This nonsense? You need to stop this right now and come home where you belong.”
But before I could respond, Rowan stepped forward. “Bryce, Clara is a remarkable woman. From the first moment I met her, I knew there was something special about her. I’ve watched how you’ve treated her, how you’ve tried to break her spirit, and I’ve also seen how she’s changed over the past month. Her determination and hard work have yielded incredible results, and I’m more certain than ever that I’ve fallen in love with an extraordinary woman.”
Bryce was stunned into silence. His eyes widened, and for once, he had nothing to say. Finally, I found my voice. “I am a free woman, Bryce,” I said, looking him directly in the eye. “I deserve more than to live in your shadow, and I will not let you control my life any longer. I want a divorce, and you can go to Elise if that’s what you want.”
Bryce’s face flushed with anger, but he remained speechless. At that moment, Rowan handed me a beautiful bouquet. “Shall we?” he asked, inviting me to dinner. He then revealed another surprise—a pastry chef position waiting for me in Paris. After my training, I could stay there if I wished. “I hope that by then, you’ll have wrapped up your affairs here, and maybe you’ll want to start fresh in a new country. I’ll be there by your side, supporting whatever decision you make.”
A wave of happiness washed over me, and it felt as though the whole world was at my feet, ready to offer me a new life filled with love and creativity.
Woman Tires of Admirer Who Joins Her Jog Every Morning but Desperately Searches for Him When He Doesn’t Show Up — Story of the Day
Rebecca coped with her depression by organizing her life so there’d be no time for it. She’d been doing that for years since the divorce. Until one persistent stranger decided to interfere with her strict, lonely routine. Little did Rebecca know, he’d become the one person she’d end up missing.
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In the dim light of her bedroom, Rebecca lay on her back, her gaze locked on the digital clock beside her bed.
The numbers read 6:29. She took a steady breath, waiting for the clock to change.
As soon as it clicked to 6:30, the alarm went off, but Rebecca was quick to silence it.
She sat up, threw the covers aside, and rose from the bed with practiced precision.
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First things first—Rebecca smoothed out her sheets, arranging every corner until the bed looked crisp and perfectly made.
She walked into the bathroom, where everything had its place.
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Her toothbrush rested neatly in a holder, the soap was placed just so in a dish, and a small mirror hung over the sink.
Rebecca took a moment to look at her own reflection, her expression calm but distant.
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She was forty-seven, with lines of experience and resilience etched onto her face.
Seven years had passed since her divorce, and though the pain had dulled, it had left behind a scar.
Her response to the heartache had been order, discipline, and strict routine. These things brought her a sense of control, something solid to hold onto when life felt chaotic.
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At exactly seven o’clock, Rebecca laced up her running shoes, plugged in her headphones, and stepped outside, ready for her morning jog.
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For years, these runs had been her escape, a time to strengthen her body while listening to audiobooks that exercised her mind.
It was her shield against sadness, each step a way to push forward.
But for the past month, something had started to disrupt her carefully designed routine—a neighbor named Charlie, who seemed determined to break through her guarded solitude, one cheerful “good morning” at a time.
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Charlie’s house was right across the street, and every morning, just as Rebecca fell into her steady pace, he would come bounding out, waving his arms like an enthusiastic kid, barely managing to keep his sneakers on.
This morning was no different. Rebecca spotted him out of the corner of her eye as he hopped down his steps, shoving his shoelaces into his sneakers in a hurry to catch up.
She sighed, rolling her eyes and speeding up, hoping he’d get the hint this time. But, as always, Charlie wouldn’t be discouraged so easily.
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“Rebecca! Wait, it’s me!” he called, his voice cheerful as he jogged over, waving with one hand and holding his side with the other.
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Rebecca pretended not to hear him and kept her eyes straight ahead, her footsteps rhythmic and focused.
But Charlie was determined, and soon he was jogging alongside her, albeit slightly out of breath.
“You’re fast… as always,” he managed between pants, giving her a crooked smile as he tried to match her pace.
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Rebecca pulled out one of her earbuds and glanced at him, feigning surprise. “Oh, hi, didn’t see you there,” she replied, with just a hint of annoyance.
She had her whole morning planned out, and chatting with her neighbor hadn’t been on the agenda.
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“No problem, totally my fault for being late,” Charlie said, his breath still coming in gasps.
Rebecca could see he was trying hard to keep up, yet he looked pleased just to be running alongside her.
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She gave a small, dismissive nod and was about to put her earbud back in when Charlie chimed in again.
“Hey, want to hear a joke?” he asked eagerly, his voice carrying that unbreakable enthusiasm she found both irritating and oddly endearing.
“You’d save more breath if you talked less while running…” she muttered, but he ignored her suggestion.
“Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?” he asked, grinning.
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Rebecca sighed. She knew better than to indulge him, but she couldn’t help herself.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Because he was outstanding in his field!” Charlie delivered the punchline with a broad, triumphant grin, his eyes bright with expectation.
Rebecca paused, rolling the joke over in her mind, and against her better judgment, a chuckle escaped her lips.
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She quickly tried to stifle it, but it was too late. Charlie had seen her reaction, and his face lit up with delight.
“See? You smiled! I’m getting better at this,” he noted with satisfaction, practically glowing at his small victory.
Rebecca shook her head, but her smile lingered, however brief.
“I’ll give it to you, that one wasn’t… too bad,” she conceded, still pretending to be unimpressed.
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Charlie threw a fist in the air, grinning as if he’d won a prize.
“Finally! Progress!” he cheered, laughing.
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Rebecca picked up her pace again, leaving Charlie struggling to keep up.
Each morning, Rebecca found herself looking forward to the sight of Charlie bounding out of his house with his untied sneakers and his cheerful grin.
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His silly jokes that once made her roll her eyes had grown on her, and she found herself smiling more often, even laughing aloud, which was something she hadn’t done in a long time.
More surprising to her, she had started to slow her pace—just a bit—so they could talk longer.
Charlie’s enthusiasm and light-heartedness had a way of softening the strict walls Rebecca had built around herself.
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He had even managed to slip past her strict routine, something she thought no one could do.
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As she laced up her shoes and looked out the window, Rebecca found herself glancing at his house, as she had started doing most mornings. Today, though, something felt different.
The door to his house was shut tight, and there was no sign of him.
She checked her watch and waited, telling herself not to worry. But after a few more minutes passed, doubt crept in.
This wasn’t like Charlie—he was always so excited to join her.
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She hesitated, feeling a strange mix of concern and disappointment, but finally, she walked over to his house and knocked on the door.
She tapped her foot as she waited, glancing around and hoping he’d just forgotten to wake up. But there was no answer.
She rang the doorbell again, then leaned close to the window, peeking inside, but the rooms were still and quiet.
“Charlie! Are you there?” she called, trying to keep her voice steady. “Come on, you’re missing our jog!”
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She hoped he’d suddenly appear, laughing and apologizing for being late. But all she heard was silence.
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Just then, an elderly voice spoke from nearby.
“Who’s shouting out here?” Startled, Rebecca turned to see Mrs. Lewis, an elderly woman who lived next door to Charlie, watching her with curiosity.
“Oh, Mrs. Lewis,” Rebecca said, feeling embarrassed for the outburst.
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“I usually run with Charlie, but he didn’t show up today. Maybe he overslept,” she added, her voice quieter, almost as if she were speaking to herself.
She felt a pang of worry, wondering if maybe he simply didn’t want to run with her anymore.
Mrs. Lewis shook her head, looking concerned.
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“Overslept? Oh no, dear. He was taken to the hospital by ambulance last night.”
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Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat.
“The hospital? What happened to him?”
Mrs. Lewis sighed, clearly upset herself.
“I’m not sure. I only saw the ambulance pull up and take him away. It’s such a shame. Poor man lives alone with no one to watch over him.”
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Rebecca stood there, processing the news, a wave of guilt and worry washing over her.
She had only known Charlie for a short while, but in that time, he had somehow become a part of her life, someone she looked forward to seeing.
Without a second thought, Rebecca thanked Mrs. Lewis, turned around, and headed back home to grab her purse and keys. There was only one hospital nearby, and she needed to find him.
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Rebecca felt her heart racing as she walked through the bustling halls of the hospital, the antiseptic smell filling her nose and making her even more anxious. She took a steadying breath as she approached the reception desk, hoping to sound calm.
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“Good morning,” she said, her voice just a bit shaky. “I’m looking for a patient who was admitted last night. His name is Charlie.”
The receptionist raised an eyebrow, looking over her glasses. “Do you have a last name, ma’am?”
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Rebecca felt herself blush. “No, sorry… I only know him as Charlie. We just… met recently,” she admitted, realizing how strange it must sound.
The receptionist gave her a slightly skeptical look. “You do know that only family or close relatives are typically allowed to visit patients, right?”
“I… I’m his girlfriend,” she blurted, surprising even herself.
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The receptionist’s eyes softened as a small smile crept onto her face. “Girlfriend, huh?” She tapped a few keys on her computer, a slight twinkle in her eyes.
“You might as well learn his last name, then. You’ll need it if he’s going to be around,” she said with a wink.
“Charlie Sanders. Room 113. I’ll take you there.”
Rebecca felt her heart flip as she whispered a quick “thank you” and followed the receptionist down the hall.
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Before they even reached the room, she could hear Charlie’s familiar laughter, his voice carrying through the doorway as he shared a joke with someone in the room.
The receptionist rapped gently on the wall to announce Rebecca’s arrival.
“Charlie, there’s a lady here to see you… she says she’s your girlfriend,” she added, a hint of playfulness in her voice as she glanced at Rebecca.
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Charlie’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Yes, yes! Rebecca, come on in. Of course, she’s here for me,” he said with a grin, gesturing for her to come closer.
Rebecca felt a rush of relief as she walked over to sit beside him.
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Charlie looked tired but cheerful, as if the hospital gown and the IV were just minor inconveniences in his day.
She glanced at him, both relieved and exasperated. “Girlfriend, huh?” Charlie teased, raising his eyebrows playfully.
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Rebecca gave him a mock-scowl. “I had to say something to get in here, didn’t I? And you missed our jog this morning! What happened?” she asked, a touch of concern creeping into her voice.
Charlie sighed, shifting slightly in the bed.
“Well… it’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but those jogs? Not exactly great for my health.”
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Rebecca’s face fell. “What do you mean?”
He glanced down, looking a little sheepish.
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“I have a heart condition. Doctor’s orders are to avoid anything too intense… like trying to keep up with you,” he admitted with a wry smile.
Her heart sank, and she shook her head in disbelief.
“Charlie, why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t have been running at all!”
Charlie gave a small, lopsided smile.
“Well… if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have seen you. I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.”
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Rebecca felt her face soften, a mix of surprise and affection warming her heart.
“So you were willing to risk your health just to talk to me?” she asked quietly, looking him in the eye.
He nodded, his expression turning serious.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“I’ve watched you every morning, jogging at the same time, like clockwork. I’ve seen you give things to charity, help the neighbors. You’re… you’re someone special, Rebecca.”
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Rebecca felt a lump form in her throat, his words striking her in a way she hadn’t expected.
She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently.
“Charlie,” she said, her voice soft, “you don’t need to run to spend time with me. How about dinner at my place instead?”
Charlie’s face broke into a warm smile.
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“Now that sounds a lot safer for my heart,” he replied, his eyes shining. “I think the doctor would definitely approve.”
Rebecca chuckled, feeling the tension in her chest ease as they shared a smile.
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“I hope so,” she murmured, looking forward to an evening that didn’t involve heart-stopping runs but instead a quiet meal with someone who, in a short time, had become surprisingly important to her.
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