On an ordinary Tuesday, Rhiannon’s simple act of kindness would unknowingly lead her to a shocking revelation. When she handed money to a woman with a baby outside a grocery store, she thought it was just a momentary gesture. But the next morning, she found that same woman standing at her late husband’s grave, sparking a series of events that would shatter everything she thought she knew about him.
Rhiannon’s arms were full of groceries as she stepped into a light drizzle. The cold air bit at her skin, and she just wanted to get home. Then she saw her—the woman sitting on the curb, holding a baby wrapped in a faded blanket. Her face was pale, and her eyes were hollow with exhaustion, but she cradled the child like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Please,” the woman murmured as Rhiannon walked by. “Anything will help.”
Rhiannon never gave money to strangers, but something in the woman’s tired eyes made her pause. Fumbling for her wallet, Rhiannon handed her $50.
“Thank you,” the woman whispered, her voice shaking.
Rhiannon hoped the money would help them find shelter from the rain, but she never expected to see the woman again.
The next morning, Rhiannon visited her husband James’ grave, still grappling with the loss two years after his death. She preferred the early morning silence, but as she approached his resting place, she stopped in shock. The woman from the grocery store stood by the grave, holding the baby and pulling flowers from the vase Rhiannon had left.
“What are you doing?” Rhiannon shouted, startling the woman. The baby whimpered but didn’t cry.
“I… I can explain,” the woman stammered.
“You’re stealing flowers from my husband’s grave. Why?” Rhiannon demanded.
The woman’s face crumpled. “Your husband?” she asked softly.
“Yes. James. Why are you here?”
Tears filled the woman’s eyes as she hugged the baby tighter. “I didn’t know he was your husband. James is my baby’s father.”
Rhiannon’s knees buckled. “No… that’s not possible. He would’ve told me.”
Continue reading on next page…“I didn’t know about you,” the woman continued, her voice breaking. “I only found out about his death recently. I was pregnant when he disappeared. I learned about where he was buried from someone else.”
Rhiannon felt the ground shift beneath her. James had lived a life she knew nothing about.
The woman, now sobbing, explained, “I was angry. Angry that he left us, angry that I had to do everything alone. I thought maybe taking the flowers… it sounds awful, but I felt like he owed us something.”
Rhiannon’s heart was a mix of fury and confusion. The baby in her arms—James’ child—looked up at her, wide-eyed and innocent.
“Keep the flowers,” Rhiannon said bitterly, walking away. “Just take care of him.”
That night, Rhiannon couldn’t sleep. The truth about James had shattered her, and there were no answers, only a man she thought she knew who now felt like a stranger.Days passed, and the anger softened. Rhiannon couldn’t stop thinking about the baby—the innocent life caught in the chaos James had left behind. On the third day, she went to the apartment the woman had mentioned. It was small, rundown, and Rhiannon couldn’t fathom how James had let his child live like this.
