Tag: Stories

When my brother Ben brushed off my polite requests to return the LEGO masterpieces his son swiped during a family dinner, I stayed calm. But after a month of “forgetting” to bring them back, I decided it was time for a creative lesson in karma.

“Look, Dad! A bank robber is hiding from the cops on the mantel!” he cried.

I frowned and wandered over with my brother. “Well spotted, Jason. That’s a new one… even I haven’t seen it yet.” I turned to my teen boys. “When did this join the decor?”

Toby, my sixteen-year-old, rolled his eyes. “Two days ago… I was certain you’d find it while dusting, but nope!”

I chuckled. Some parents bond with their kids over football games and movies, but me and my boys? We build little LEGO scenes and leave them around the house like Easter eggs.

I bent over then and whispered to Jason, “You should go look in the bookcase in the hallway and see who you can find hiding there.”

His face lit up, and he raced off. A few minutes later, he shouted, “It’s Iron Man! And he’s fighting Darth Vader!”

“Hey Toby, Max, why don’t you show Jason our LEGO room?” I said. “I think he’d like our latest project.”

“It’s great you guys are living closer now,” I remarked. “An hour’s drive is nothing compared to flying across the country for visits.”

“Yeah.” Ben grinned. “We already have Christmas plans, but I want you guys to come over for a BBQ for New Year’s. Deal?”

“Deal!”

As the afternoon progressed, it became clear Jason had made it his mission to find every hidden LEGO diorama in our house.

My boys seemed content to leave him to it while they worked on our latest big project: Han Solo proposing on the Millennium Falcon. Then we all sat down for dinner together.

I dried my hands on a dish towel, already dreading what I might find. “What kind of situation?”

“Chewie is gone, and the whole build with the Minecraft Creeper studying in the Hogwarts Library!” Max called out.

My stomach dropped as I walked into the room. Max, Toby, and I promptly searched the house and soon discovered numerous empty spaces where our treasured creations had stood just hours ago.

The three of us shared a look of dawning realization.

We’d all seen how fascinated Jason had been with our builds. He must’ve taken them!

“I’m sure Uncle Ben will bring them back,” I said. “Jason… well, sometimes kids that age do dumb things even though they know better.”

I pulled out my phone and dialed Ben’s number, carefully keeping my tone light when he answered.

“Hey, bro! Funny thing — it seems like some of our LEGO masterpieces decided to take a field trip home with you guys. When can you bring them back?”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. Those “toys” represented countless hours of family time, and his condescending words ticked me off.

“Make sure you remember, Ben. Those toys mean a lot to us and we need them back.”

That “next time” turned into a month of excuses. Each time I met Ben for coffee, he’d conveniently “forget” to bring them.

I watched my boys’ expressions grow more disappointed with each empty-handed visit, and something inside me hardened. Christmas came and went, and I realized Ben had no intention of returning our LEGO.

“Look, guys,” I began, “I think it’s time we face facts. Uncle Ben isn’t going to return our LEGO models.”

Max’s shoulders slumped. “So we just give up? Let him steal our stuff?”

“Oh, honey.” I leaned forward, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. “Who said anything about giving up? I think it’s time we showed Uncle Ben exactly how it feels when someone ‘borrows’ your stuff without permission.”

“We’re going to his New Year’s BBQ this weekend,” I said innocently, stirring my hot chocolate. “I’ve already texted him to tell him he needs to return our stuff the minute we walk through the door. If he doesn’t… well, let’s just say I have a plan in mind to motivate him.”

The boys exchanged gleeful looks. By the time I’d finished outlining my plan, they looked like little kids plotting to raid the cookie jar.

At the BBQ, I watched Ben manning his precious grill, wearing that stupid “Kiss the Cook” apron he loved so much.

“Hey, bro!” I marched up to him. “You said you’d have our LEGO sets ready to go when we got here, so where are they? I want to put them in my car right now, so I don’t need to worry about it later.”

I caught Toby’s eye across the patio and gave him a subtle nod. Operation Payback was officially a go.

I’d spent years teaching my boys about respect and responsibility, but sometimes, being a good parent means teaching creative life lessons.

What happened next would have made any heist movie proud. Max casually wandered inside to “use the bathroom,” returning minutes later with suspiciously bulging pockets.

Toby helped Ben’s wife, Carol, bring out more drinks, and somehow managed to make Ben’s favorite bottle koozies disappear in the process.

I kept Ben distracted with questions about his new grill, while my boys systematically liberated various small items from around the house.

The real masterpiece was when they managed to snag his prized Bluetooth speakers right off the kitchen counter. I nearly burst out laughing when I saw Max slide them into his oversized hoodie pocket with the skill of a seasoned pickpocket.

Three hours later, I gave the signal to wrap things up. We said our goodbyes and headed to the car, looking perfectly innocent. That’s when I realized my boys might’ve taken things a little too far.

“Boys!” I whispered fiercely. “We are not dog-nappers! Take him back right now!”

“But Mom,” Max protested, hugging Cooper, “he looked so lonely! And he’s technically a small item.”

“Now.” I tried to look stern, but I couldn’t help laughing.

While Toby sneaked Cooper back inside, I started the car, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Ben discovered the state of his house.

“CARLY!” Ben’s voice was several octaves higher than usual. “Where are my remotes? And my speakers? And everything else?”

“Oh?” I examined my nails casually. “Have some things gone missing? How strange. That must be so frustrating.”

“This isn’t funny! I need my stuff back!”

“Hmm.” I paused for dramatic effect. “You know what? I’ll check with the boys. They might know something about borrowed items. Though I can’t promise when we’ll remember to return them. You know how it is… things just slip your mind sometimes.”

The silence on the other end was delicious.

Ben showed up at our door forty-five minutes later, red-faced and carrying not just our missing builds but three additional LEGO sets he “thought might be ours too.”

“You know,” Ben said sharply, “I really think you took this too far. Jason is just a kid and—”

“Let me stop you right there,” I cut in. “Jason should know better than to take things that don’t belong to him, but you’re right, he is just a kid. The real problem here is his adult parent, who promised to return the stuff Jason took and didn’t.”

Ben’s face grew even redder.

“Fine! I didn’t take it seriously, and I’m sorry, okay?” He said, letting out a long-suffering sigh.

He laughed nervously, clutching his recovered speakers to his chest. As I watched him drive away, Toby and Max high-fived behind me.

“Mom,” Toby said admiringly, “you are seriously scary sometimes.”

I grinned, feeling the last knot of tension release from my shoulders. Sometimes the best family bonds are forged through a little creative justice.

Here’s another story: When Darla’s children repeatedly return sick from visits to their stern grandmother, she initially blames weak immune systems. One day, a forgotten bag leads her back to Grandma Eileen’s house, where she discovers the gut-wrenching truth about what happens at Grandma’s house. Click here to keep reading.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My 18th birthday was a day I’ll never forget, not just because it marked my official transition into adulthood, but because it was the day I planned to reveal a surprise for my stepmom — one that I hoped would change her life in a way she never saw coming.

My life’s been a bit like that.

Navigating through the choppy waters of loss and new beginnings, I found myself at the helm of a decision that could either be the most heartwarming episode or a plot twist gone wrong.

My name is Sarah and this is the story of how my entry into adulthood became unforgettable for the most surprising reason.

After my mom passed away when I was just 11, life felt like an endless storm. My dad, lost in his own sea of grief, found a beacon of hope in a new woman and eventually remarried.

That’s how my stepmom, Olivia, came into my life, and she would become much more than just a new face in the house. She became a great source of stability for me, always offering love and support when I needed it.

At first, though, I wasn’t ready for her. I was too angry, too wrapped up in my grief to see her for who she was. I remember the day she moved in — I stayed locked in my room, listening to the muffled sounds of her unpacking, refusing to acknowledge that she was now a part of our lives.

But contrary to my fears, Olivia never forced her way in. She gave me space, patiently waiting until I was ready to talk. And when I finally did, she was there, listening without judgment. One night, I had a nightmare about my mom. I woke up sobbing, drenched in sweat. Olivia heard me from the hallway and quietly opened my door.

“Sarah, sweetie, it’s okay. You’re safe,” she whispered as she sat beside me, her hand gently rubbing my back. I didn’t push her away. For the first time, I let her comfort me, and as she held me, I felt a small sliver of warmth amid the grief.

And just like that, Olivia and I became close. She never tried to take my mom’s place but filled our home with a light I thought we’d lost forever. “I’m here for you, always,” she’d tell me, her words a soothing balm for my aching heart.

But life had another curveball waiting. When we lost my dad, the silence in our home was deafening. I remember us sitting in the dimly lit living room, the air heavy with fear and uncertainty.

“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I want you to know, I’m here for you. We’re family, no matter what.”

Her words were a lifeline in my sea of despair. “But everyone’s saying you’ll leave… go back to your family,” I mumbled, struggling to hold back tears. “Will I…will I go to an orphanage?”

“No, sweetie. You’re not going anywhere and neither am I. Look at me,” she said, her hand finding mine in the darkness. She then cupped my face, planting a tender kiss on my forehead. “We’ll get through this together.”

For a moment, the heaviness in my chest lifted. Olivia’s presence had always been steady, like an anchor in the storm. She stayed by my side through every awkward family gathering where people looked at us with pity and through every sleepless night where grief threatened to swallow me whole. And slowly, I began to trust that she meant it when she said she wasn’t going anywhere.

On the morning of my 18th birthday, the air was thick with anticipation, not just for the usual celebrations but for a surprise I had been planning for years.

Olivia greeted me with her warm, comforting smile, one that had often brightened my mood since the day she stepped into our lives.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said, handing me a small, beautifully wrapped box. Her eyes sparkled with the love and care that had become her trademark.

I took the box, my hands shaking slightly. I wasn’t nervous about the gift inside — it was the gift I had for her that had my heart racing.

“Thank you,” I replied, my heart swelling with gratitude for this woman who had chosen to stand by me through everything. “I have a surprise for you too, but… you’ll need to pack your things.”

The look of confusion on her face was immediate. “Pack my things?” she echoed, the joy of the moment fading into uncertainty. “Are you… Are you serious?”

Her laughter, light and disbelieving at first, died down as she saw the seriousness in my eyes. “But why, dear? I thought we were a family…” Her voice trailed off, a hint of despair creeping in.

I could feel my resolve wavering. The way her voice cracked, the pain in her eyes — it was more than I had anticipated. But I couldn’t back down. Not now. Not yet.

“It’s time,” I began, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. “I’ve been planning this since the day Dad died. You are going to another city.”

In a moment that felt more like a scene from a movie, I loaded her sparse belongings into the car and drove her to a new destination, all while she sat beside me in a silence that was heavy with confusion and sorrow.

The drive was a long and silent one, filled with unspoken questions and tension. I was the first to talk.

Olivia turned to me, a mixture of pain and understanding in her eyes. “I understand. You’re an adult now, you have money and you don’t need me anymore. But why are you sending me so far away? You don’t want to see me at all?”

Her voice cracked, and the words felt like daggers in my chest. I had never imagined this moment would hurt so much.

As we pulled up in front of a quaint, beautiful house, the surprise I had been harboring was finally ready to be unveiled.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice laden with confusion and a trace of hope.

“I bought this house for you,” I revealed, the tension finally breaking. “There was enough money for everything. Now I will study here and you will live next door. We won’t have to be apart, and if you want, you can go back to our old house at any time, or we can return together after I finish my studies.”

She sat in stunned silence for a long moment, her eyes locked on the house. “You… you bought this for me?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

The tears came then, unbidden and free, marking the moment with an emotional intensity that words could hardly capture. We hugged, our tears mingling, a testament to the depth of our bond and the love that had grown between us over the years.

“I love you, Sarah,” said Olivia, her voice barely a whisper but still audible.

“I love you, too,” I replied, reaching for the house keys in my bag and placing them in her hand.

This was our story, a stepdaughter and her stepmom, navigating the complexities of life together, proving that love, indeed, knows no bounds.

As we stood there, holding onto each other in front of her new home, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I had done it: I had given back to the woman who had given me so much.

For the first time in years, I felt like I could truly breathe, knowing that we had a future, together.

Do you think my surprise was a good one?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My marriage was perfect until the day I came home from a business trip to find our backyard transformed into a venue for a funeral. My funeral. My husband Jake was standing in front, greeting guests dressed in black. What was going on?

Jake and I have been married for six years. We met through my college friend Rachel at a dinner party, and I still remember how he made everyone laugh with his terrible dad jokes.

That night, I told Rachel he was different from anyone I’d ever met.

Six months later, he proposed in our favorite coffee shop, and I knew I’d made the best decision of my life by saying yes.

We started trying for a baby right after the wedding.

At that point, we were really hopeful. We thought this would work and we’d get the positive test results we’d been waiting for.

But I guess fate wasn’t on our side. It was so heartbreaking to see how none of the treatments were working for us.

Meanwhile, the constant questions from well-meaning relatives crushed my soul.

“Have you tried those fertility herbs I told you about?” my aunt Susan would ask at every family gathering. “My neighbor’s daughter swears by them!”

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, kneeling in front of me. “Want to ditch this place and get some terrible diner food?”

I laughed through my tears. “Everyone will know why we’re leaving.”

“Let them know,” he shrugged. “Their opinions don’t pay our bills or make our happiness. We’re perfect just as we are.”

That’s Jake. He always knew how to lift me when the world felt too heavy.

While society kept trying to make me feel like less of a woman for not being a mother, he made me feel whole. Complete.

Now, let me share a bit about the better part of my life. The part that excites me.

I’ve been climbing the corporate ladder since I started my career. Currently, I’m a manager at a large firm, overseeing a team of fifteen people.

We landed three major clients last quarter, and I couldn’t be prouder of what we’ve achieved.

Meanwhile, Jake works as an accountant at a smaller firm. He makes less than I do, but it’s never been an issue between us.

“Guess what?” he’d bounce into the kitchen after work. “Remember that reconciliation issue that was driving everyone crazy? I figured it out!”

I’d match his enthusiasm every time. “That’s amazing! Tell me everything about it!”

Some of my friends didn’t understand our dynamic. They thought it was weird that I earned more, that we didn’t have kids, and that we were content with our simple life.

Jake and I had always been on the same wavelength until last month. Until the day my world turned upside down.

“Lexi, we need you in Denver,” he said while looking at his computer screen. “The account is hanging by a thread, and you’re the only one who can salvage it.”

“Denver? When?”

“Tomorrow morning. Should be about a week.”

Oh, no, I thought.

Going on the trip meant missing Jake’s birthday that weekend. We’d been planning a huge BBQ party for weeks, and he had already bought a new grill.

I felt so terrible and had no idea how to break the news to him.

“Something smells amazing,” I said, trying to delay the inevitable.

“Just trying out a new marinade for the party,” he grinned. “Want to taste?”

“Jake, honey… I need to tell you something.”

I think he heard something in my voice because he immediately put the knife down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I have to go to Denver. Tomorrow. For a week.”

“But…” he began. “The birthday BBQ…”

“I know, I’m so sorry. It’s this huge client, and David specifically asked for me. We can celebrate when I get back! Maybe even take that road trip we’ve been talking about?”

He forced a smile, but I could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “We can definitely take that road trip. It’s gonna be great.”

I watched as he picked up the knife again and continued chopping the vegetables.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” I said. “It’s just a week. I’ll be back in no time.”

I hugged him from behind, breathing in his familiar scent.

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” he murmured. “Just… come back soon, okay?”

The week in Denver was intense but successful. Through marathon negotiation sessions and late-night strategy meetings, we managed to not only save the account but expand it.

Everything went so great that I managed to wrap things up a day early. I was super excited to surprise Jake.

However, when I turned onto our street, I knew something was wrong.

Cars lined both sides of the road, and people were walking toward our house. My first thought was that something had happened to Jake.

I parked haphazardly in our driveway and rushed toward the backyard, where I could hear murmured conversations. What I saw stopped me in my tracks.

Rows of chairs were set up on our lawn and flower arrangements covered every surface. As I looked around, my gaze landed on the massive portrait at the front.

I was standing in my backyard, watching people attending MY funeral. I couldn’t believe it.

As I walked into the backyard, all I could hear were gasps and murmurs. Some people even dropped their lemonades.

Then I saw Jake. He was greeting everyone like I had actually passed away.

“Jake!” I called out.

He spun around, and his face turned red in anger.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Your mom told me the truth!” he shouted. “About your promotion. About Denver. About how you’re leaving me behind!”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

He was talking about the promotion offer that I hadn’t told anyone about except my mother. I didn’t tell him yet because I wanted to discuss it with him after returning from the trip.

“Mom told you?”

“I thought he knew, sweetie,” I heard my mother calling out while pushing through the crowd. “I came here as soon as your neighbor called me after seeing the funeral setup. I’ve been trying to talk sense into Jake for the past hour, but—“

Then, I turned back to Jake.

“And this?” I gestured at the funeral setup. “This is your response? Throwing me a funeral because you think I’m leaving you?”

“You were gonna abandon everything we built!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “You were gonna leave me to settle in Denver. I know you’ve always prioritized work over me, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to get rid of our relationship. After all, we don’t even have kids—“

“No, you absolute idiot!” I interrupted. “The company offered you a position too! I was waiting to tell you everything. I wanted us to make the decision as a team!”

Jake looked at me with eyes wide open. He didn’t know what to say.

Meanwhile, people started shuffling away, probably realizing this wasn’t the entertainment they’d signed up for.

“They… what?” Jake’s voice was barely a whisper.

“They offered you a senior accountant position. Better pay, better benefits. I wanted us to move together.” I felt tears streaming down my face. “But this? Hosting my funeral because you assumed I’d abandon you? That’s not what partners do, Jake. That’s not what trust looks like.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I just thought you’d leave me because I didn’t earn as much… I just—”

“Enough, Jake,” I cut him off. “I’m staying at my mom’s tonight.”

Then I looked at her.

“Though we need to have a serious talk about boundaries.”

As I walked past the chairs, flowers, and that ridiculous portrait, I realized this funeral wasn’t just for the woman Jake thought was leaving him.

It was a funeral for our marriage, for the trust we’d built, and for the partnership I thought we had.

I called my boss the following day and accepted the promotion. Then, I called a divorce lawyer and told him about my decision. I had to leave Jake.

Looking back now, I’m grateful that fate had its own plans. All those years of unsuccessful attempts to have children turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

At least there weren’t any kids who had to watch their father throw a funeral for their living mother just to prove a point.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Doctor Spellman adopted and raised his sister’s triplets after she passed away during childbirth. But five years later, his life was turned upside down when the triplets’ bio father showed up to reclaim the children.

Leah’s sweaty brows furrowed as she tried to take a deep breath. “You’re… You’re the best older brother I could ask God for, Thomas,” she whispered as they entered the OR.

Leah had gone into labor at only 36 weeks of pregnancy, and the doctors had suggested performing a C-section. But soon after delivering the first baby, Leah’s pulse began dropping, and her condition worsened…

“Leah, please stay with me! Nurse, what’s happening? Look at me, Leah! Look at me,” Thomas cried, his palms wrapped around his sister’s hand.

Thomas sank onto one of the chairs in the waiting area, his tears not stopping. He could still smell his sister’s scent on his palms. He buried his face in his hands, hoping it would all be fine soon.

But when a doctor’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he could tell something was not right. “Doctor…how…how’s Leah?” he asked, jumping to his feet.

“We’re sorry, Thomas,” Dr. Nichols said remorsefully. “We tried our best, but we couldn’t stop the bleeding. The children are safe and have been placed in the NICU.”

What am I going to do now?” Thomas thought disappointedly when a voice boomed in the hallway. “Where the hell is she?! She thought she could deliver the kids, and I wouldn’t know?”

Thomas’s rage knew no bounds when he saw his sister’s ex-boyfriend, Joe, storming into the hospital. “Where is your sister?” Joe growled.

Thomas grabbed the man’s collar and pinned him to the wall. “Now you’re interested in where she is, huh? Where were you when she spent a night on the streets because of a lowlife like you? And where were you, Joe, when she collapsed four hours ago? She’s dead! My sister…she didn’t even survive to see her kids!”

“Don’t you even dare talk about them, Joe! Get out of my hospital, or I will call security!” Thomas warned him. “OUT!”

“I’m leaving now, but I’m going to get my children back, Thomas! You can’t take them away from me,” Joe shot back as he disappeared away from the hallway.

For the sake of his three little nephews, Thomas decided he couldn’t just sit and mourn his sister’s loss. He was all his nephews had, and he would do anything to ensure the children didn’t grow up under their alcoholic father’s care. So Thomas decided to adopt the triplets, and he fought for their custody in court.

“This is unfair, your honor!” Joe screamed on the witness stand, shedding fake tears. “I am the kids’ father. How would I survive without those little lives? They are Leah’s flesh and blood, MY flesh and blood, and they are all I have now!”

“Well, you’re not wrong, your Honor,” Joe sighed, lowering his head. “I work as a handyman and take up small gigs. I couldn’t afford to support her, and that’s the reason why we didn’t get married.”

“Pardon me, your honor, but my client has text messages and voice notes from his sister where she clearly states that Mr. Dawson is a heavy drinker,” said Thomas’s lawyer. “And she refused to marry him unless he entered a rehabilitation program.” The lawyer presented the evidence in court, convincing the judge that Joe was not fit to raise the children, and the court decided in favor of Thomas.

As Thomas walked out of the courtroom, he looked up at the bright skies, remembering his sister. “I had promised you I would do my best to help you. I hope I didn’t disappoint you, Leah,” he whispered with teary eyes.

Thomas pulled his arm from Joe’s grasp and glared at him. “That’s exactly why you’re not fit to become their father, Joe! You shouldn’t fight for the children but for the children’s sake!”

When Thomas returned home from the court, satisfied that Leah’s kids were safe with him, he saw his wife packing her bags.

“What’s going on, Susannah?” he asked, bewildered. “What’s with all the packing at this time?”

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” she huffed, zipping the last bag. “I’m not even sure if I want children at all, and here you have three at once. You won the case, didn’t you? Well, I thought it over, but I don’t think I want to spend the next few years of my life changing diapers. I didn’t sign up for this when I married you, Thomas. Sorry.”

His three little nephews were waiting for him. He couldn’t just drown in his sorrows and leave them to their fates.

“I promised Leah I would give them a good life. I can’t do this!” He returned the wine bottle to the rack and walked away.

Time flew by, and the triplets, Jayden, Noah, and Andy, were raised in the love and care of Thomas. Whether it was cleaning the boys’ poopy diapers or lulling them to sleep with his tragically unmelodic voice, Thomas loved each moment he spent with his nephews.

But as he arrived home, the sight of the man across from his house sent shivers down his spine. Joe stood there on the sidewalk, in front of Thomas’s house, after five long years.

“Kids, get inside. I’m gonna join you soon, okay?” Thomas smiled as the kids went in.

Then he approached Joe. “What the hell are you doing here?!” he snarled. “Have you been stalking us all along?”

“I’m here to take back what’s mine, Thomas. I’m here for my children!” he admitted brazenly.

“Your children?” Thomas scoffed. “Where were you all those five years when I was raising them? They were never yours, to begin with, Joe. You walked out on them when they weren’t even born, and now you’ve returned to claim them? They’re no longer your children. Get lost!”

“Oh really?” Thomas challenged him. “I bet the new car you’re driving around will convince the judge otherwise. Don’t waste your time!”

Thomas was confident that Joe wouldn’t be able to take the kids back, but a few months later, he received a court summons. Thomas’s heart dropped as he read it, but he still mustered courage and appeared at the court.

During the hearing, Joe’s lawyer summoned Thomas to the witness stand. “It has recently come to our attention that Dr. Spellman is on a very specific regimen of prescription medications,” Joe’s lawyer said. “After consulting a medical specialist, I’ve come to—”

“Objection, your honor!” Thomas’s lawyer cried, jumping to his feet.

“I will allow it since the guardian’s health directly impacts these proceedings,” the judge said.

Thomas hung his head as he said, “Yes.” He was indeed diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor months ago and was taking medications to shrink the size and prevent seizures.

After listening to both parties, the judge looked at Thomas with sympathetic eyes and delivered the judgment.

“Considering the new circumstances, the court believes that it would be best for the children to be in the care of their biological father. Dr. Spellman, I wish you strength and good health, but if you truly love these children, you must understand that this is what’s best for them. Hence, I am awarding the custody of the children to their biological father. You have two weeks to prepare them.”

Thomas had seen it all coming the day he received the summons, but he wanted to fight for his nephews and for the sake of his promise to Leah.

“Uncle Thomas, we want to live with you! Please, Uncle Thomas,” the kids insisted.

“Boys,” Thomas said. “If you love Uncle Thomas, you know he would never choose something wrong for you. I want you to be happy, and Joe will keep you happy, boys. Will you please get your things to his car now?”

As the three little boys loaded their bags into Joe’s car, they didn’t even look at him. In fact, they turned around and ran and hugged Doctor Thomas’s leg.

“I love you, Uncle Thomas,” Jayden said in tears. “I…I don’t want to leave you!”

“Hey, hey, guys,” Thomas crouched down to face the kids. “Didn’t we make a solid deal? I will come to see you on weekends, and we’re going to be good to Daddy Joe.”

Thomas wrapped the boys in a tight hug, swallowing his tears. “Now come on; Joe’s waiting,” he said, trying to pull away, but the children held onto him even tighter.

Joe had never liked Thomas. In fact, he would’ve done anything to have his kids back. But at that moment, something in his heart shifted. He looked at Thomas and the boys and couldn’t stop himself from joining them.

“You were right all along, Thomas,” he said, hugging them and shaking his head. “We should not fight for the children but for their sake.” After that, Joe helped Thomas carry the boys’ bags back into the house.

Tell us what you think of this story, and share it with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who adopted her late best friend’s son despite being a single mother of four kids. But 13 years later, the boy’s birth father showed up on her doorstep to take him away.

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Three women discover that they are engaged to the same con man at his funeral but only one of them inherits his fortune of $8.3 million.

Of course, Bart wasn’t Mr. Right, he was Mr. Wrong, and he justified his cruel manipulation of his victims’ emotions by saying to himself, “About time the stupid thing learned what life is all about! As if anyone was going to fall in love with HER…”

So he first moved in on Frannie Karl and stripped her of $300,000, then he moved on to her neighbor Tessa Williams, and robbed her of a cool $430,000, and then he decided to try for a hat trick with their next-door neighbor, Clara Funcinno.

Sooner or later, the bill for malice will come due.

He met Clara Funcinno, a 56-year-old widow at her gym after ascertaining she had a considerable amount on deposit from the insurance payout after her husband’s death. For six weeks, he romanced Clara, took her dancing and dining at the most expensive restaurants in town, and sent her flowers and love letters.

When two months after their first meeting Bart fell on one knee and asked her to marry him, she didn’t even hesitate. Clara said yes and proudly wore the huge diamond Bart had given her.

The two started planning their wedding. Bart said, “I know you were married before, Clara, but I wasn’t. I want a big wedding, and I want you to wear white for me.”

Clara blushed. “Oh Bart!” she gasped. “At my age! White is for virgin brides, young girls…”

Bart kissed her hand and whispered, “Clara, I think I won your virgin heart. Tell me, have you ever loved anyone the way you love me? Because I know I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you.”

So of course, Clara went shopping for a gorgeous wedding dress and melted every time Bart played “White Lace and Promises” for her. Clara was flying high on love, and that was when Bart struck.

“It’s nothing, my sweet,” Bart said smiling. “It’s just business, nothing to worry your pretty head about.”

“You know,” Clara said. “I have an MBA! I might be able to help!”

“Clara, the thing is, I’ve been offered the possibility of buying into a new company and it might be the deal of a lifetime,” Bart said sadly. “Unfortunately, my money is tied up in a six-month deposit my financial manager concocted for taxes… And so I’m going to have to pass the opportunity by.”

“Two hundred thousand dollars,” Bart said. “Quite a chunk of cash.”

“But Bart,” Clara cried. “I can lend you the money!”

“No, Clara,” Bart said firmly. “I won’t take a cent from you! What if something goes wrong? No, never!” But Clara kept insisting and Bart, feigning great reluctance, finally agreed but on one condition.

“We’ll go to my bank, Clara,” he said. “And I’ll give you the transfer code, so if anything goes wrong you know you’ll get your money back!”

Bart took Clara to the bank and showed her the printout of his account that held $8.3 million, then he gave her the code. After that, Clara happily wrote Bart a check for $200,000.

“Babe,” Bart said with tears in his eyes. “I love you so much! I’m going straight to the broker with this, and I’ll pick you up for dinner tonight at 20:00, OK? Wear something special!”

She phoned him several times but the calls went to voice mail time after time. By Saturday morning, Clara was a wreck. She was sure Bart had an accident, that he lay somewhere in a hospital…

Finally, Bart answered the phone. “Yes?” he snapped coldly. “What is it?”

“Bart!” gasped Clara. “Thank God you’re alright! I’ve been so worried…”

“Listen you old bag, stop calling me, OK?” he said. “We’re finished. I have what I wanted from you.”

“I’m sick of you, is what it is!” he snapped. “Are you so stupid you don’t know you’ve been conned?” And with that, he disconnected the call. When Clara tried to call again she realized she’d been blocked.

Bart smiled. He derived as much satisfaction from hurting the women as from taking their money, and Clara with her gentle smile and kind heart had been so irritating… Bart stepped out of his building aglow with satisfaction.

Maybe he was ready to settle down now, just one more con… Bart stepped out onto the street and was still smiling when a speeding taxi ran him over. There was no saving him. He was gone. And since he’d listed Clara as next of kin at his bank, the police contacted her.

So Clara contacted a funeral home and arranged everything for a modest funeral for the late unlamented Bart. Monday morning, bright and early, Clara was at the bank and she transferred the entire $8.3 million to her bank account.

Bart’s funeral wasn’t well attended, except for two other women Clara recognized from the neighborhood. Then Clara saw the engagement rings on their fingers — identical to hers!

“How much did he take you ladies for?” Clara asked.

Frannie sighed. “With me, it was $300,000! All my savings. I’m going to be struggling,” she said. “And the diamond? It’s glass! He got us good!”

Clara grinned. “No he didn’t!” she said. “Karma got him! He died before he could cancel the withdrawal code he gave me and I got the entire $8.3 million!”

Clara split the money with Frannie and Tessa, and a week later, the three women left for the Bahamas for vacation, paid for by Bart!

What can we learn from this story?

• Whenever a boyfriend or lover mentions money, head for the door! Clara, Frannie, and Tessa fell for the oldest trick in the book. Keep money and love separate.
• Sooner or later, the bill for malice will come due. Bart lived by conning women and breaking their hearts, but Karma brought his career to a sudden halt.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a florist who becomes curious when she notices an 89-year-old man buying red roses every day, so she follows him.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

When I found a pair of women’s underwear in my husband’s pocket, my world turned upside down. What started as innocent help for our elderly neighbor spiraled into a web of suspicion, secrets, and a mysterious young woman I never saw coming.

Our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Wilson, is like family. She’s a sweet woman in her 60s, and she lives alone. She’s had some health issues lately, so Chris started helping her with little things around the house. At first, it was just simple stuff.

“Chris, could you fix the leaky faucet?” Mrs. Wilson would ask. Or “Can you help me move this chair?”

But after a few weeks, things started to change. Chris was spending more and more time over there. What used to be a quick trip to fix something turned into hours. Sometimes, he’d be gone half the day.

One afternoon, I asked him, “What’s taking so long over there?”

He looked a little surprised by my question. “Oh, Mrs. Wilson just needed some extra help today. We ended up talking for a while. She’s lonely, you know.”

Then, a week later, I found something that made my heart stop.

I was doing laundry, emptying Chris’ pockets like I always do, when I pulled out a pair of women’s underwear. Lacy, small — definitely not mine. My hands trembled as I held them. My mind raced. Where did these come from? Why did Chris have them? My stomach twisted into knots as a thousand horrible thoughts flashed through my head.

I shoved the underwear back into his pocket, my heart pounding. I couldn’t confront him. Not yet. I needed more information. But more than anything, I needed proof.

That night, I could barely sleep. My mind kept replaying everything over and over again. Every excuse Chris had made, every long visit to Mrs. Wilson’s. Was he really helping her, or was something else going on? I didn’t know what to believe.

The next day, I decided to watch him. I needed to see for myself what was happening when he went over there.

So, when Chris left to “help Mrs. Wilson,” I waited about thirty minutes. Then, I quietly slipped out the back door, making my way through the yard, my heart racing in my chest. I felt ridiculous, sneaking around like this, but I had to know the truth.

When I reached Mrs. Wilson’s house, I crouched low by the window. I could hear voices inside, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Slowly, I raised myself up just enough to peek inside.

There, lounging on the couch in a lacy robe, was a young woman. She was much younger than Mrs. Wilson, maybe in her twenties. She looked so comfortable, so at home. My heart nearly stopped. Who was she? And why was she in Mrs. Wilson’s house?

My mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Had Chris been sneaking around with this woman? Was this the real reason he was spending so much time there? I felt sick.

I ducked back down, my head spinning. I couldn’t stay there any longer. I needed answers, but I wasn’t sure I could handle them.

“We need to talk,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. I stood in the kitchen, gripping the counter.

Chris looked at me, confused. “What’s going on?”

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the lacy underwear I had found in his jeans. “I found this.”

His face went pale. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could feel the tension crackling in the air between us.

“Why,” I continued, my voice trembling, “do you have another woman’s underwear in your pocket? And who is the woman I saw at Mrs. Wilson’s house today? The one in the robe?”

Chris blinked, and for a second, I thought he might deny everything. But then he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Okay, I can explain,” he said, his voice quiet. “Just… let me explain.”

I folded my arms, waiting. My heart was pounding in my chest.

I frowned. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Why was she lounging around in a robe like she owned the place? And the underwear — how do you explain that?”

Chris looked pained, running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because… well, I knew how it might look. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, but obviously that backfired. As for the underwear, Mrs. Wilson asked if I could throw Amy’s laundry in with ours since I was already helping around the house.”

“Chris, I feel like you’ve been hiding things from me,” I said, my voice soft but strained. “You’ve been spending so much time there, and I’ve felt like you’re pulling away. I didn’t know what to think.”

Chris reached out, taking my hands. “I swear, nothing’s going on. I’m just trying to help out. I didn’t mean to make you feel this way, and I’m so sorry I didn’t explain things sooner. I should have.”

The next day, I decided to go straight to the source. I needed to hear it from Mrs. Wilson herself. I walked over to her house, feeling a knot of nerves tightening in my stomach. What if Chris wasn’t telling the truth? What if this was something more?

When I knocked on the door, Mrs. Wilson answered with her usual warm smile. “Oh, dear, come on in,” she said, opening the door wide. Her frail frame moved slowly as she led me into the living room.

Amy was sitting on the couch, but this time, she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She looked up in surprise when she saw me.

“Hi,” I said, trying to sound casual, though I felt anything but. “I just… wanted to clear something up.”

Mrs. Wilson sat down in her armchair, looking from me to Amy, clearly sensing my unease. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

I took a deep breath and explained everything: how I’d found the underwear, how I’d seen Amy lounging around in a robe, and how Chris had been spending so much time in their home without telling me about Amy.

Mrs. Wilson nodded. “Chris has been a godsend, really. I didn’t want to burden him, but he’s been insistent on helping with everything.”

I felt a bit of relief wash over me, but there was still a part of me that wasn’t entirely convinced. I smiled politely, trying to hide my lingering doubt.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, my voice tight. “I guess I just misunderstood.”

Later that evening, I called my sister. She had always been the one to give it to me straight, even when I didn’t want to hear it.

After I explained everything, there was a long pause on the other end of the phone.

“Listen,” my sister finally said, her voice serious. “I don’t want to make you paranoid, but are you sure Mrs. Wilson doesn’t have her own agenda?”

I blinked, stunned by the thought. “You think she’s trying to push them together?”

Her words left me feeling more confused than ever. Was there something more going on, or was I letting my imagination run wild again?

I hung up the phone, staring at the wall. I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. All I knew was that I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

The next day, I decided to stop playing games and talk to Mrs. Wilson directly. If there was anyone who could give me the answers I needed, it was her. I marched over to her house, heart pounding, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

When she opened the door, she greeted me with her usual warm smile. “Oh, dear. It’s you again! Come on in. What’s on your mind?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

I stepped inside, trying to stay calm. “Mrs. Wilson, I’m not sure what to think, but I feel like something’s going on that I need to know about. Something that you didn’t tell me about the last time we talked.”

“Well, dear, like I said before, there’s nothing to worry about,” she began. “Chris has been such a blessing to me, helping out around the house. And Amy, well, she’s been staying with me to take care of things I can’t manage.”

“But why does it feel like there’s something more happening here?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Mrs. Wilson sighed, her gaze softening as if she pitied me. “You’re a smart girl. I suppose there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Hiding what?” I demanded, my voice rising.

I stood there, frozen in shock. “You were trying to set him up with your granddaughter?”

I felt the room spin around me. This seemingly sweet, grandmotherly woman had been plotting to break up my marriage, using her granddaughter as bait. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

“You’re insane,” I spat, my voice trembling with anger. “Chris loves me. He would never—”

Mrs. Wilson raised a brow, her voice cool. “Men don’t always make the right choices, dear. I just thought I’d give him an opportunity. It’s up to him, of course.”

When I got home, I told Chris everything — Mrs. Wilson’s confession and her twisted plan to push him toward Amy. He looked horrified.

“I had no idea she was doing that,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought I was just helping her. I swear, nothing’s been going on. I love you, and I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Tears filled my eyes as I realized the depth of Mrs. Wilson’s betrayal. But Chris’ sincerity broke through my fear. I believed him.

We decided to cut all ties with Mrs. Wilson. Chris stopped going over to help her, and we made sure Amy knew exactly what her grandmother had been trying to pull.

Amy, to my surprise, was just as disgusted as we were. She apologized profusely, saying she had no idea what her grandmother had been planning.

A few weeks later, I heard from a neighbor that Mrs. Wilson had fallen ill and moved into a care home. She wouldn’t be meddling in anyone’s life anymore.

Looking back, I’m grateful that I trusted my instincts and confronted the situation head-on. Mrs. Wilson’s plan backfired, and in the end, her manipulation drove her away from the life she thought she could control. Karma, it seems, has a way of working things out.

Liked this story? Take a look at another one: When husbands act like they run the world, their wives are there to remind them who’s really in charge! From couch crises to lingerie smackdowns, these husbands learned the hard way that “happy wife, happy life” isn’t just a saying — it’s survival!

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Alex was sitting in the park, lost in thought when he was interrupted by a voice from behind. “Please help my mother!” it begged. When Alex turned around, he saw a little girl crying bitterly. Alex was frozen in place by the mere sight of her. She looked so much like him!

He’d arrived home early from work to surprise his wife on their wedding anniversary. But all of his excitement was dashed when he discovered her in their bedroom with another man. The man was holding her waist, and her arms were wrapped around him. After a brief moment, they clasped hands, kissed passionately, and didn’t stop until Alex barged into the room.

“Is this what you do behind my back, Charlotte?” he lashed out at his wife, still holding the bouquet and cake he’d brought for the special day. “You’re cheating on me with a man half your age?!”

“You have one hour to leave this place, Charlotte, with that man! Run away as far as you can! I don’t want to see you again,” he threatened her and left the room. Then he ordered the guard to go into the house and make sure that behind his back, Charlotte didn’t take anything extra from his home.

Alex got into his car and drove all night aimlessly, stopping only once to refuel. Then, as his fuel gauge reminded him that he needed to fill up, he pulled over to a park and sat on a bench, lazy to go to the station again.

A quick glance at his wristwatch revealed that it was around 6 a.m. The park was as deserted as a cemetery, and he was glad he was alone there because the sad thoughts of his wife cheating on him hadn’t left him even after the long drive. He soon covered his face with his hands, attempting to calm himself and get over the events of the previous night.

Perhaps she never wanted a relationship. Maybe she was always after my money, he pondered.

Suddenly, a sobbing sound from behind interrupted his thoughts. “Sir, can you please help me? My mother needs help!” it said.

Turning around, Alex noticed a small child holding a teddy bear. The sun had nearly risen, and the rays falling on the girl’s face froze Alex in place. No way! This isn’t possible! She can’t be… Wake up, Alex! You’re imagining things because you didn’t sleep last night!

“Sir,” she said again, pulling his jacket closer to her. “Please help my mom!”

What if she’s a member of one of those gangs that threaten and rob people? After all, what is she doing here alone at this hour of the morning?

“Umm…where is your mom? And what happened to her?” Alex asked, looking around for anything suspicious, but when he didn’t see anything dubious, he hurried after the girl.

As they moved deeper into the forest, the girl came to a halt in front of a massive oak tree. She then turned to Alex and motioned with her hands to the tree. “My mom… she’s there. She needs help!”

Seeing a human’s hand protruding from one corner of the tree, he quickened his pace and found a woman lying there unconscious. Squatting next to her, he touched her hand to check for a pulse. She was still alive and breathing, but her body was sweltering. He gently turned her over on her back and froze in shock once again. The woman was his first love, Camilla.

Having splashed water on the woman’s face, he tried to bring her to her senses, but she began shaking from the cold. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her, holding her tightly in his arms.

“How did your mom come here, sweetie?” he asked the little girl, trying to control the tears in his eyes at having doubted her. “Where’s your father?”

“I don’t have anyone other than my mother,” the girl sniffed. “Will mommy be alright?”

“Of course she will!” Alex comforted the child.

When the ambulance arrived, the doctors examined Camilla quickly and loaded her onto a stretcher. They didn’t even ask Alex if he knew Camilla. “Is the child staying with you?” asked the orderly quickly. Alex nodded in agreement.

The little girl cried and asked to join her mother, but Alex promised her that he would definitely take her to her mother when she gets better. “I know your mom. She and I were close friends once, so don’t worry, okay?” he said gently. But the girl looked at him incredulously as they both walked to his car to head home.

“Please, Camilla, calm down. She’s at my house and safe. I can video call her right now if you want.”

“Yes! Do that!” Camilla cried. “I want to see her!” Camilla didn’t rest until she saw and spoke with her daughter on the phone. Once the call was over, she burst into tears. “I’m sorry for doubting you, Alex, but I really have none other than Kate in my life.”

“It’s all right, Camilla. For the time being, you should rest. The doctors said it was pneumonia, and you’re lucky your fever went down; otherwise, they’d have to keep you in the intensive care unit… By the way, how did you end up in the forest?”

“But where’s her father? Why doesn’t he take responsibility for his child?” Alex asked curiously.

Camilla fell silent. “Well…” Before she could say anything, doctors walked into the room and asked Alex to leave. They said Camilla would be under observation for a few days.

During Camilla’s stay at the hospital, Alex visited her every day and looked after her. When she was discharged, he took her home, and during that phase, they became close involuntarily.

One day, as he and Camilla were about to leave the house for a check-up, they ran into Charlotte, who’d come to discuss the divorce settlement with Alex.

Imagine her shock when she spotted her husband’s ex-lover at the house. “Oh! So you’re back together now? Is she the reason you were so eager to get rid of me, Alex, without even giving me a chance to explain myself?” She sneered.

“Well–” Before Alex could say anything, little Kate came running and hugged Alex. “Let’s go! But the doctor won’t give me those tablets, right?” she asked Alex curiously.

“Woah! Look at you! Aren’t you happy after kicking me out of the house? You have your lover and your daughter with you. What else do you want?” Charlotte mocked.

“Oops! Looks like someone didn’t tell you the truth!” Charlotte added.

“I’ll tell you everything, Alex,” Camilla said in a quiet voice. “You go inside and play, honey. Mumma will come soon,” she added, turning to Kate, who happily followed her mom’s instructions and went inside. Then Camilla revealed the whole story to Alex.

It turns out Charlotte always knew Kate was Camilla and Alex’s child. She liked Alex a lot and decided to drive a wedge between him and Camilla. Hence, she asked one of her friends to take false photographs of Camilla with another man to convince him that Camila was cheating on him.

Alex was heartbroken when he saw those photographs of Camilla hugging and kissing another man and broke up with her. Charlotte saw this as the perfect opportunity and started dating Alex. They were childhood friends, after all, and their families were also convinced that they were perfect for each other. Meanwhile, Camila had not informed Alex of her pregnancy. She decided to raise their child alone after Alex left her.

“I didn’t want to break your marriage, so even after I came here, I didn’t tell you about Kate,” Camila explained. “I had no idea you and Charlotte were divorcing.”

Alex started hating Charlotte even more after learning the whole truth. He not only divorced her but also made sure she received no money from his inheritance. Later, after the divorce case was resolved, he married Camilla and they lived happily together.

What can we learn from this story?

• You always meet people because you’re destined to and not by chance. Alex was destined to reunite with his lover and daughter, and that’s precisely what happened in the end.
• Karma is unavoidable. Charlotte thought she could get away with cheating on her husband, but in the end, karma reached her.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.