After Husband Dumps 8-Months-Pregnant Wife, Neighbors Take Turns Coming to Her House – Story of the Day

I was eight months pregnant when Richard, my husband, decided to abandon me for another woman, stripping our house of nearly everything he could take. The only person aware of this was Stephanie, my neighbor. What she did next was something I could have never anticipated.

“Richard, you can’t do this! We’re married. We took vows. What about our child?” I wailed at Richard, my husband, who was packing his bags after shattering my world with the most terrible news.

“I don’t care anymore! I’m in love with Amelia. We’re meant for each other. You and I, honestly, we were a huge mistake. I never should’ve married you. I should’ve chosen Amelia from the start!” he retorted, hardly pausing in his task.

“From the start?”

“Yes! I was already having feelings for her when we got married. I should’ve made the right choice back then!” he added.

“Richard! We’ve been married for two years! You’re telling me that you’ve been having this relationship with her since before we got married? You’re the one who wanted to try for a baby! Why didn’t you just divorce me earlier then? This is insane!” I questioned, my hands flailing around as I watched him zip up his bag and lift it from the bed.

“I don’t know. I just… I don’t care anymore! This isn’t working out for me. I can’t be a father or your husband. I don’t want you anymore. That’s it! Now, let me go!” he declared, stopping only because I was blocking the door.

“No! What about your mother or the rest of your family? How are they going to feel about this?” I questioned, my hand on the threshold to prevent his exit.

“My mother and everyone in my family already know. I told them last night,” Richard revealed with a shrug. “Obviously, they’re on my side, so don’t even bother trying to contact them. I suspect they’ve already blocked you. Anyway, move before I make you move.”

His words hit me like a freight train. I came from a small family in Utah, and after my parents passed away years ago, I moved to New York, where I met Richard. His family had become mine. I adored his mother and everyone else in his family.

“They know about this?” I gasped, my voice breaking.

“Yes! For God’s sake, move!” Richard demanded, and I finally stepped aside. The shock of the entire revelation had me spiraling. In an instant, I had lost not only my husband but the entire family I had come to love over the years. They had always been so kind and genuine to me, or so I thought, but that must have been a facade if they knew about Richard’s affair and supported him.

Overwhelmed by despair, I clutched my heavily pregnant belly and slid down to the floor. In the distance, the front door slammed shut, and I cringed into myself, wailing even louder.

It seemed my cries reached someone because, suddenly, a pair of arms were there, attempting to lift me from the abyss of my sorrow. Hours had passed since Richard’s departure.

“Gwen, come on, honey. Let’s get you up,” I heard Stephanie’s voice filled with kindness. Standing up, I found myself face-to-face with my good friend who lived next door. She must have entered without knocking.

“What happened here, Gwen?” she inquired, her face etched with concern.

“Richard is gone,” I managed to say, my voice breaking yet seemingly devoid of any tears left to shed.

“Okay. You’re coming to my house with me. Let’s go,” she declared immediately. Despite my attempts to refuse, she wouldn’t hear of it.

That night, I opened up to her about everything Richard had said, especially the most hurtful part—his family siding with him.

“I just can’t believe they would do something like this. But Richard was always a momma’s boy, in my opinion. It’s typical for mothers to cover their bad kid’s behavior,” Stephanie remarked.

“But they were so kind to me,” I protested, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Well, that’s now over, sweetie. I hate to be blunt, but you are about to have a baby and you’re now alone. It’s time to make a plan, and I will help you. I swear. You are not alone,” she assured me, holding my hand. That night, I slept in her guest bedroom.

But we never imagined what would happen the following day. Stephanie came with me back to my house, planning to buy groceries and some baby necessities. Richard and I hadn’t bought anything yet, expecting his family to throw us a baby shower—a plan obviously scrapped.

Arriving at my house, we found it empty. My furniture, most of the kitchen appliances, were gone. I rushed to our bedrooms, only to find our bed and a note from my husband claiming he had the right to take everything since he had bought them.

“Are you kidding me?” I gasped at the note, which Stephanie quickly snatched from my hands.

“Oh my god,” she uttered, shaking her head. She tore the note into tiny pieces, scattering them on the ground. “Don’t worry, Gwen. Don’t worry. I’m here for you.”

“How could he?” I asked, distressed, yet my friend had no real answer. She just thought Richard was the lowest of the low.

Still, Stephanie took me shopping. Besides groceries, we ventured into an appliance store. Richard had left me with a stove and fridge, but I needed a microwave and other items. Finally, my friend secretly bought a crib for the baby.

“Steph, this is too much. Cribs are so expensive. I have to check my finances. I don’t think I can pay you back for it,” I protested when the crib was delivered, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

I was overwhelmed by Stephanie’s kindness, yet clueless about how I’d navigate this ordeal Richard had left me in—alone and financially unstable. It seemed inevitable that I’d need an expensive lawyer for the divorce.

The following day, Mrs. Hanson, one of our older neighbors, stopped by with a heap of baby clothes. “Thank you, Mrs. Hanson. This is a huge help!” I said, stunned by the support and wondering how the word had spread.

“Don’t worry, honey. You’ll get through this. You’re not the first woman to pick the wrong man. You and your baby are not alone!” she declared fervently. Her words rang true as more neighbors showed up, each extending their hand in support.

They brought second-hand furniture and more baby essentials, and then Mr. Steinberg handed me the card of his nephew, a divorce attorney willing to work pro bono for me. “If there’s anything else you need, you tell me,” he said, embodying the community’s incredible generosity.

The last neighbor, Mrs. Pitts, came by with several casseroles, ensuring I wouldn’t have to worry about meals for a while. “Stephanie told us about what happened, and if you’re ever hungry or just need someone to talk to, reach out to me too. I raised my kids on my own, and I know it’s hard. But you can do it,” she shared.

It dawned on me then who had informed the neighbors about my plight. I was filled with gratitude for Stephanie, and when my son was born, I named him Stephan in her honor, a small gesture for the immense support and love she had shown me.

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