Husband Went to Friend’s Wedding for 3 Days, Leaving Me and Kids $20 — He Fell to His Knees after What He Saw upon Returning

Iris’s husband left her and the kids with a meager $20 for three days while he attended a wedding alone. Frustrated and desperate, she made a bold move to teach him a lesson. When he returned, the sight before him made him fall to his knees and burst into tears.

Hey there! Iris here. My life isn’t all sunshine and roses, even though it might seem that way from the outside. I’m a stay-at-home mom, juggling an eight-year-old firecracker named Ollie and a sassy six-year-old princess, Sophie…

My husband, Paul, works a stable job and brings home the bacon, or rather the chicken these days. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a fantastic dad, showers the kids with gifts, and makes sure we have everything we need.

But here’s the thing, after our second child, things shifted. Paul started focusing more on work and less on us. Gone were the days of spontaneous movie nights or romantic dinners. Now, whenever I’d suggest something, it’d always be “work stress” or needing “me time.” I brushed it off initially, but lately, it’s been gnawing at me.

A man heading to office | Source: Pexels

A man heading to office | Source: Pexels

Last week, something happened that threw a wrench into our already strained relationship. Paul came home early, beaming, announcing a half-day off for his friend Alex’s wedding. He said he would be gone for three days.

A spark of excitement ignited in me! Maybe this could be our little escape, a few days away from the constant demands of motherhood and household. But my balloon of hope quickly popped when I found out ONLY HE was invited.

Iris is so thrilled, only to be shattered moments later | Source: Midjourney

Iris is so thrilled, only to be shattered moments later | Source: Midjourney

“Why not me?” I pouted, disappointment clouding my voice.

Paul explained that Alex was a “bit strange” and wanted a close-knit gathering without partners. Now, that struck me as odd.

“Are there any single women attending?” I probed, biting my nails, a nervous habit I just can’t seem to kick.

An annoyed man | Source: Pexels

An annoyed man | Source: Pexels

Paul furrowed his brows, his mood shifting from casual to irritated. “Iris, come on,” he mumbled, and sensing his annoyance, I backtracked with a playful, “Just kidding! Stay away from those single ladies, alright?!”

Big mistake. He took it as a full-blown accusation, and before you know it, we were embroiled in a massive fight. Paul accused me of being suspicious, of dictating his every move. He even started lecturing me on the “secrets to a strong relationship,” making me feel like a paranoid control freak.

A furious man | Source: Pexels

A furious man | Source: Pexels

But hey, I wasn’t completely wrong, was I? I snapped, reminding him how he constantly prioritized his “me time” with friends, leaving me home alone with the kids.

“I want to enjoy life too, Paul!” I yelled, tears welling up in my eyes. “What’s the point of all this money if you’re never here?”

That’s when things got scary. Paul was practically glaring daggers at me. Then, in a move that left me speechless, he pulled out a measly $20 bill.

Man holding $20 | Source: Freepik

Man holding $20 | Source: Freepik

“Here,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “if you don’t need my money, run the house on this for three days while I’m gone!”

He shoved the cash into my hand and stormed out of the house before I could utter another word. My jaw hung slack, anger and disbelief swirling inside me. Did he seriously think I could run a household with three hungry members on a meager $20? The audacity!

Iris is visibly shaken | Source: Midjourney

Iris is visibly shaken | Source: Midjourney

Tears threatening to spill, I raced to the fridge, clinging to a sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was enough food to last for three days.

But as I swung open the door, my heart sank. The fridge was practically bare, containing only a row of Ollie’s brightly colored juice boxes, a lone pickle, and less than a dozen eggs. This wasn’t going to work. We needed groceries, and with only $20, I felt completely stranded.

A nearly empty refrigerator | Source: Pexels

A nearly empty refrigerator | Source: Pexels

Anger simmered within me. Paul knew our financial situation; I didn’t have any hidden stash of cash. He was deliberately trying to make a point, and guess what? It backfired. Now, I was determined to get revenge, to make him understand the struggle I faced every single day. But how?

My gaze darted around the room, landing on the glass cabinet where Paul kept his prized collection of antique coins. They were like trophies to him, each one with a story, some dating back to his great-grandfather’s era.

An assortment of antique coins on display | Source: Midjourney

An assortment of antique coins on display | Source: Midjourney

An evil glint flickered in my eyes. Maybe these could be the key to getting some groceries and teaching my husband a little lesson.

My heart raced as I reached for the glass cabinet. Guilt gnawed at the edges of my determination, but the image of the empty fridge and Paul’s flippant challenge fueled me.

With trembling hands, I gathered the coins, their smooth surfaces cold against my skin. Each clink against the glass echoed in the room, a tiny betrayal chipping away at my conscience.

Iris gathers the antique coins | Source: Midjourney

Iris gathers the antique coins | Source: Midjourney

Ignoring the rising tide of guilt, I raced to the local antique shop, a place I’d only ever admired from afar. The owner, a wiry man with a silver goatee, squinted at the coins through a magnifying glass.

My breath hitched in my throat. Would these even sell? But then, his voice, gruff but surprisingly cheerful, broke the tense silence. “Seven hundred dollars,” he announced, his eyes twinkling.

An antique store owner inspecting the coins | Source: Midjourney

An antique store owner inspecting the coins | Source: Midjourney

Relief washed over me so intense it felt like I could breathe again. “Sold!” I blurted, practically shoving the coins into his surprised hands.

The guilt, however, resurfaced with a vengeance as I clutched the wad of cash. This wasn’t just revenge anymore; it was a betrayal of Paul’s trust. But the thought of my children’s hungry faces spurred me on.

Woman counting cash | Source: Pexels

Woman counting cash | Source: Pexels

With a spring in my step, I stormed to the grocery store, filling my cart with mountains of fresh produce, enough meat to last a week, and a mountain of treats for the kids.

A part of me reveled in the freedom of not having to check the price tags, but a larger part ached for the trust I’d shattered.

As I unpacked the groceries back home, humming along to a classic playing on the gramophone, a dark shadow of apprehension loomed over me. How would Paul react when he saw his beloved coins missing?

Woman grocery shopping | Source: Unsplash

Woman grocery shopping | Source: Unsplash

I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the delicious aroma of the chicken casserole wafting from the oven. Tonight, dinner would be a feast fit for a king, or rather, a queen!

Three days crawled by, each minute stretching into an eternity. The silence in the house was deafening without Paul’s usual grumbles or the constant barrage of questions from the kids. Just as despair started to creep in, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway jolted me back to life.

A car outside the house | Source: Unsplash

A car outside the house | Source: Unsplash

I raced to the window, peeking through the blinds. There stood Paul, a sight that sent chills down my spine.

A wide, almost manic grin stretched across his face, completely out of character. In his arms, he cradled two grocery bags, overflowing with fresh produce and what looked like enough fruit to feed a small army.

Man holding a grocery bag | Source: Freepik

Man holding a grocery bag | Source: Freepik

This wasn’t the sight I’d braced myself for. This was… uncanny. My heart pounded as Paul practically skipped towards the front door, whistling a cheerful tune.

The door flung open and he barreled in. “Iris, my love!” he boomed, his voice uncharacteristically loud. “You won’t believe the deals I found! Fresh strawberries for half the price, and look at these juicy mangoes!” He thrust the bags at me, his eyes sparkling with a manic glint.

A cheerful man smiling | Source: Pexels

A cheerful man smiling | Source: Pexels

I stood frozen, the groceries a heavy weight in my suddenly numb arms. “Paul…” I stammered.

He didn’t seem to hear me. He launched into a torrent of apologies, each one delivered with an unsettling enthusiasm. He confessed his wrongs, admitted the stinginess, and swore he wouldn’t leave me stranded again.

A startled, teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels

A startled, teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels

Then, his eyes darted towards the trophy case. His smile faltered, replaced by a dawning horror. He took a hesitant step towards the glass cabinet, then another, his movements slow and deliberate.

My breath hitched in my throat. In the heart-stopping silence, the click of his shoes against the hardwood floor echoed like a death knell. He reached out, his hand hovering over the empty space where his prized coin collection once resided.

An extremely heartbroken man | Source: Pexels

An extremely heartbroken man | Source: Pexels

The world seemed to slow down. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Shame, guilt, and a crushing fear coiled in my gut. Paul’s joy had evaporated, replaced by a chilling stillness.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t scream. He simply crumpled to his knees and burst into tears, saying, “MY COINS??!”

An extremely upset man bursting into tears | Source: Pexels

An extremely upset man bursting into tears | Source: Pexels

The sound shattered the suffocating silence, and a torrent of apologies spilled from my lips, each one a desperate attempt to mend the damage I’d done. But Paul remained silent, his face crumpled with a profound hurt that pierced my soul.

Without another word, he rose to his feet, a haunted look in his eyes as he walked past me. Just as he reached the door, he turned back one last time, his gaze locking onto mine. It was a look of utter betrayal, a silent scream that spoke volumes.

A sad man's eyes filled with heartbreak and disbelief | Source: Unsplash

A sad man’s eyes filled with heartbreak and disbelief | Source: Unsplash

Then, with a quiet click of the doorknob, he was gone.

Tears streamed down my face, each one a bitter drop of regret. I had a mess to fix, and it was entirely of my own making.

I raced to the nearest pawnshop. There, under the harsh fluorescent lights, I surrendered my late grandmother’s ring, a precious heirloom gifted on my wedding day. The money it fetched was enough to cover all the coins.

Woman holding a diamond ring | Source: Pexels

Woman holding a diamond ring | Source: Pexels

I sprinted back to the antique shop, the money clutched tightly in my sweaty palms. The bell above the shop door chimed as I burst in. The owner, thankfully, recognized me.

“Can I help you again?” he inquired, his bushy eyebrows raised in surprise.

My face turned crimson as I spoke. “Actually, I’d like to buy the coins back.”

The antique shop owner recognizes Iris | Source: Midjourney

The antique shop owner recognizes Iris | Source: Midjourney

He squinted at me, a shrewd glint in his eyes. “Buy them back? You just sold them to me three days ago.”

“Yes, I know,” I confessed, my voice thick with shame. “It’s a long story, but it was a foolish mistake,” My voice cracked. “I just… I need them back. Please.”

A desperate and teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash

A desperate and teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash

The gruff man softened slightly. He studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “Alright, tell you what,” he said, “Since you’re the original seller, I’ll give you a discount. But it won’t be the same price you sold them for.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave. “I understand,” I rasped, tears welling up again. “Anything you ask, I’ll pay it.”

Iris pleads with the antique store owner | Source: Midjourney

Iris pleads with the antique store owner | Source: Midjourney

The transaction was swift, and moments later, I was clutching the familiar weight of the coins in my bag. My pulse quickened. Would it be enough to mend the broken trust?

The walk home was a blur. Every passing second felt like an eternity. As I reached into the driveway, my stomach churned with nervous butterflies. The house was eerily silent.

Paul wasn’t home yet.

Iris manages to get Paul's antique coins back | Source: Midjourney

Iris manages to get Paul’s antique coins back | Source: Midjourney

I walked towards the glass cabinet and carefully arranged the coins back in their rightful places.

When I finished, a small smile bloomed on my face. “I did it!” I exclaimed. When Paul returned home, I turned to him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“There,” I whispered, pointing at the trophy case. “They’re back!”

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, a single tear rolled down Paul’s cheek.

Iris retrieves Paul's beloved antique coin collection | Source: Midjourney

Iris retrieves Paul’s beloved antique coin collection | Source: Midjourney

“Iris,” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “We need to talk.”

The knot in my stomach tightened. “Yes,” I choked out, tears welling up in my eyes again. “We do.”

We talked for hours that night. We spoke of our frustrations, our unspoken needs, and the chasm that had grown between us over time. The conversation was raw, painful, and ultimately, necessary.

Iris is relieved | Source: Midjourney

Iris is relieved | Source: Midjourney

There were no easy answers. Trust, once broken, takes time and effort to rebuild. But as we sat there, holding onto each other, a fragile peace settled between us.

The ordeal with the coins had been a catalyst, a wake-up call that forced us to confront the cracks in our relationship. We learned a harsh lesson — communication, not revenge, is the key to a strong marriage.

Couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

Couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

That day, I realized that misunderstandings and arguments are inevitable, but it’s crucial to resolve them rather than escalate. Every family faces challenges that test their strength and make them stronger.

I also learned the importance of trust in a relationship and vowed never to doubt my husband’s loyalty, even in jest. They say “a happy wife is a happy life,” but both partners deserve happiness. In a healthy relationship, happiness should be a shared journey, not a prize for one.

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

In the days that followed, we started rebuilding, brick by brick. It was slow, messy work, but we were committed to making it work. We realized that a happy marriage wasn’t a destination, but a journey — a journey we were determined to navigate together, hand in hand.

A peaceful couple | Source: Unsplash

A peaceful couple | Source: Unsplash

Here’s another story: When Josephine found an ordinary bottle of men’s hair lotion in her bathroom, little did she know it would reveal a shocking truth about her bald husband and shatter their 20-year marriage.

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 Family Had Been Feuding with the Neighbors for Years, but Everything Got Worse When I Met Him Again – Story of the Day

My family’s feud with the neighbors had lasted for decades, filled with constant arguments and petty battles. I thought I’d left it all behind, but coming home for Christmas brought the chaos back. Then I saw him again—the man I wasn’t supposed to care about—and everything became even more complicated.

I couldn’t remember how it started or what caused the very first fight, but the Rogers family had been the main enemy of my family ever since we moved into this house 20 years ago.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

It felt like every day brought a new reason for conflict—whether it was the placement of the fence, an offhand comment, or even the weather.

At first, it was just my dad and Mr. Rogers bickering, their raised voices carrying across the yard.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My mom, ever the optimist, tried baking pies for Mrs. Rogers or complimenting her garden.

But the day Mrs. Rogers accidentally trampled my mom’s beloved roses, all attempts at peace were over.

For me, though, it was different. I had Mike. He was my age, and despite the feud, we became secret friends. We knew the truth would only cause trouble.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Everything changed one day when we were both 14. I came home and froze as I saw my parents, red-faced and shouting in the living room.

“How could you be friends with that boy?!” my dad yelled, slamming his hand on the table.

“After everything that family has done to us?!” my mom added, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What? I don’t understand…” I said, my voice shaking.

“Don’t play innocent with us!” my dad snapped. “We caught that boy climbing the tree to your window. He said he wanted to surprise you for your birthday!”

I stared at them, stunned. “I didn’t—” The words caught in my throat.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You will not see him again,” my mom said firmly, pointing toward my room.

“But why?!” I shouted, my chest tightening. “Why can’t I be friends with Mike just because you can’t stand the Rogers?!”

“That family has caused us enough trouble!” my dad bellowed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mike hasn’t done anything wrong!” I shot back. “And don’t act like you’re saints. You’ve done awful things to them too!”

“Go to your room!” my dad roared. “You’re grounded! No more Mike—ever!”

Furious, I ran to my room and slammed the door so hard the walls seemed to shake. Every few minutes, I glanced out the window, hoping to see Mike.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

When his light finally came on, I felt a flicker of hope, but then he pulled his curtains shut without even looking my way. My chest ached as I cried until I couldn’t anymore.

At school the next day, I tried to talk to him, but he turned away like I wasn’t even there.

Soon, his friends started spreading cruel rumors. I knew Mike could stop it if he wanted, but he didn’t say a word.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The lies grew worse, and I couldn’t take it anymore. When my parents saw how much it hurt me, they decided I needed to switch schools.

Many years have passed since then. I was almost 30 now, far from that 14-year-old girl, but some wounds lingered.

The sting of those childhood memories wasn’t as sharp, but they hadn’t completely faded either.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes I wondered why I still cared at all, especially since no one else seemed to have changed.

When I came home for Christmas, the first sight that greeted me was my dad and Mr. Rogers standing outside, yelling at each other.

“Your decorations aren’t even a meter tall!” Mr. Rogers yelled, pointing at our yard.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Well, your lights couldn’t even light up a closet!” my dad shot back, crossing his arms.

“Hi, Dad,” I said, dragging my suitcase past them, but he didn’t even glance my way.

“Of course, Mr. Rogers is more important than your daughter, who you haven’t seen in six months,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Inside, I found my mom peering out the kitchen window.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, setting my bag down.

“Oh, Alice, come look!” she said, waving me over with urgency. “I think that woman stole my pie recipe!”

I stepped up to the window, confused. “What are you talking about?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Look at her! She’s using the same spices as me!” Mom declared, pointing at Mrs. Rogers.

“How can you even see that from here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I know it!” she insisted, shaking her head.

“This is ridiculous,” I said, turning to leave for my old room.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Everything in my room was exactly as I had left it. The posters still hung on the walls, and my old books sat neatly on the shelves.

I wandered to the window, glancing outside. Across the yard, a light shone in Mike’s room, catching my attention.

My heart skipped as he appeared in the window. I hadn’t seen him in many years.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom said he went abroad to study and then stayed there. He looked so different—no longer the boy I once knew, but a man, confident and undeniably handsome.

I raised my hand, giving him a small wave. For a second, I thought he might wave back.

Instead, he pulled his curtains closed, shutting me out completely. My chest tightened, anger bubbling up.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

How could he? We had been friends once, yet he ignored me now like I didn’t exist.

That evening, after my parents finally stopped bickering with the Rogers, we ate dinner in tense silence.

The next morning, Mom handed me a shopping list. “We need this for Christmas dinner,” she said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After I finished shopping and walked to the parking lot, I stopped short. There he was—Mike.

“Hey,” I said, stepping toward him. Mike glanced at me but kept walking, ignoring me completely.

“Seriously?” I snapped. “I should be the one ignoring you after everything you did to me!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mike froze, then turned to face me, his eyes blazing. “After everything I did?” he shouted.

“Oh, so you can talk?” I yelled back. “Yes, after what you did! You ignored me, let your friends spread lies about me, and then you just disappeared abroad without a word!”

“Are you kidding me? Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Mike said, his voice rising. “You lied to your parents and told them I was stealing from you! I got grounded for a month because of that! And I liked you, Alice—I was in love with you!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What are you even talking about?” I shouted, throwing up my hands. “I defended you! I got grounded for standing up for you! Where did you get that crazy idea?”

“My dad told me,” Mike said, his tone harsh but uncertain now.

“Your dad, the same guy who hates my family?” I asked, shaking my head. “And you believed him?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mike looked down, his shoulders tense. “I felt betrayed,” he admitted. “And he said he wouldn’t pay for college if I kept seeing you.”

“They threatened me too,” I said, my voice softer now, “but I still tried. You acted like I didn’t exist. And now, almost 30 years old, you’re still holding onto this?”

Mike sighed, his voice low. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have believed him. I was a jerk.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Better late than never,” I said with a faint smile. “Want to grab a bite to eat?”

“I’d love to,” Mike replied, his face relaxing into a small smile.

As we walked toward a nearby café, I teased, “So, you were in love with me?”

“Shut up,” he said, grinning.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The days before Christmas passed quickly as Mike and I spent every moment we could together.

It felt like being kids again, sneaking around to avoid our parents, sharing stories, and laughing at memories we thought we had forgotten. We talked about everything, making up for lost time.

One evening, just before Christmas, Mike grinned at me. “Let’s climb the tree, like old times,” he said. I couldn’t resist.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Hope there’s mistletoe up there,” Mike said, grinning as he climbed the tree.

I laughed, glancing up at him. “Still in love with me?” I teased, keeping my voice light.

Mike stopped climbing for a moment and looked down at me. “All over again,” he said, his voice serious. I felt my cheeks flush and looked away, trying to focus on the next branch.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

We climbed higher, but suddenly, I heard a crack. “Mike, wait—” I started, but it was too late.

The branch beneath his foot snapped, and he fell straight onto me. We hit the ground with a thud, tangled together in a heap.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice breathless.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, then burst out laughing. “You’ve gained weight,” I said, looking at him with mock judgment.

“I’m light as a feather,” he shot back, holding my gaze.

We both stopped laughing, the air between us changing. His face was so close I could see every detail.

Slowly, he leaned in and kissed me. I smiled against his lips, my heart pounding.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What on earth is going on?!” my dad’s voice roared from behind us.

“This is outrageous!” Mrs. Rogers shrieked.

We scrambled to our feet, turning to see our parents glaring at each other.

“How dare you touch my daughter?!” my mom shouted, stepping forward.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The yelling grew louder, insults flying back and forth. Mike and I exchanged a look of pure frustration.

“Enough!” Mike yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos. “I’m sick of your fights! You’re adults, but you act like children! Alice and I aren’t teenagers anymore, and I won’t let you interfere in our lives!”

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me toward his car.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Where are you going?!” Mrs. Rogers shouted.

“If you can’t behave, we’ll spend Christmas Eve at a hotel!” Mike called. “Anywhere is better than here!”

We checked into the only hotel in town. It was small, with an artificial fireplace in the room. We sat by it, letting the silence settle around us.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I didn’t expect that speech from you,” I said, glancing at Mike.

He looked at the flames. “I’ve had enough of their fights. It was one of the reasons I moved abroad. I thought I could escape it all. But leaving meant losing you, and I won’t let that happen again.”

His words made me smile. I leaned in and kissed him softly, but a knock at the door interrupted us.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mike stood up to open it, and to our shock, all four parents were there.

“We’re sorry,” my dad said, looking awkward.

“We shouldn’t have reacted that way,” Mr. Rogers added.

“You’re adults, and we can’t tell you what to do,” Mrs. Rogers admitted.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Now get your butts back home for Christmas Eve dinner,” my mom said firmly.

“You won’t fight?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“We’ll manage for one evening,” my mom promised.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“If we’re dating, it’ll be more than one evening,” Mike said, squeezing my hand.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” my dad muttered.

We laughed, left the hotel, and returned home. Dinner still had its moments of tension, but it felt like progress.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: A struggling actress takes an unusual job after being hired by a wealthy man’s mother to pose as his girlfriend and sabotage his upcoming wedding. But as she spends more time with him and his fiancée, she questions her actions and the price of her desperation. What will she choose?

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers 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.

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