Single mother Riley was trying her best to find love, even though it was tough. As soon as her dates found out she had a son, the romance quickly faded away. Her desperation grew, and Riley felt she had no choice but to hide her son. However, she immediately regretted that decision.
Riley stood in front of her 8-year-old son, Roy, with a heavy heart, unsure if she was making the right choice. At 32, balancing life as a single mother and trying to find love felt like walking a tightrope.
Ever since her ex-boyfriend walked out on her as soon as he found out she was pregnant, Riley had been left to raise Roy on her own.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Over the years, she had embraced being a mom and built a world around her son, but deep down, there was still a longing—someone to share her life with, someone to love her as much as she loved Roy.
But finding that someone was harder than she ever imagined. Every time she met someone new, things seemed promising until they found out about Roy.
It was as if the mere mention of her child made them pull away. The disappointment stung every time, and Riley was growing tired of it.
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Now, with this new date on the horizon with Mitchell, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was her last chance to see if there was hope.
Mitchell seemed different—kind, charming, and someone who could be the one. But she was afraid that if she introduced Roy too soon, she’d scare him off like the others.
“I don’t want to go to Kyle’s tonight,” Roy whined, clutching his favorite toy tightly in his arms.
His face was scrunched up in a pout, his big eyes pleading.
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“I want to stay here with you.”
Riley crouched down so that she was eye-level with her son, trying to push aside the guilt gnawing at her. She gently brushed a strand of hair off his forehead and forced a smile.
“Roy, it’s just for one night,” she said, trying to sound upbeat.
“You always have so much fun with Kyle. You two will stay up, watch movies, play games—it’ll be a blast. And I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning.”
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Roy’s expression softened slightly, but he still looked uncertain. “But what if I don’t want to sleep there?”
“You’ll be fine,” Riley reassured him. “It’s only for tonight, and tomorrow we’ll do something fun, okay?”
As much as she loved Roy, she needed this night to go well. She had arranged for him to have a sleepover at his friend Kyle’s house, something she rarely did. But tonight was different.
Tonight, she was going to see if there was a future with Mitchell, and to do that, she needed to focus on herself.
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She didn’t want to have to worry about Roy or the complications that might arise from mentioning she had a child too soon.
The taxi arrived at the Kyles house, and with one final hug, Riley sent Roy inside.
She felt a pang in her heart as she watched him walk up the steps, his shoulders slightly slumped, but she quickly reminded herself that this was necessary.
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She wasn’t doing this just for herself—if things went well with Mitchell, it could mean a better future for both of them.
As the taxi pulled away from Kyle’s house, Riley took a deep breath and tried to focus on the evening ahead.
She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.
When Riley arrived at the restaurant, she spotted Mitchell waiting at a small table near the window. He looked sharp in a clean-cut suit, his hair neatly combed, and when he saw her approaching, his face lit up with a warm smile.
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Riley’s nerves immediately kicked in, but she had put effort into her appearance tonight—her favorite dress, just enough makeup to feel confident, and a pair of heels that made her feel taller.
She wanted to feel good about herself, especially since she was hoping this date could be something more than just casual.
They exchanged a few pleasantries as they sat down, but there was an awkward tension in the air.
Neither of them seemed to know what to say to get the conversation going. Riley’s mind raced as she tried to think of a topic to break the ice, but Mitchell beat her to it.
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“So, do you think the menu is a bit too… fancy?” Mitchell asked, a playful smile on his face. “I mean, I’ve never seen so many different kinds of salad in my life.”
Riley couldn’t help but laugh. The tension broke, and the joke made her feel more at ease.
“I know, right? Who knew you could have six varieties of lettuce?” she joked back.
With that, the conversation flowed more easily. They started talking about their favorite foods, funny stories from their jobs, and some light-hearted moments from their past.
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Riley found herself laughing more than she had in months, and for a while, she felt like she could enjoy the evening without overthinking everything.
But as they finished dinner and stepped outside for a walk, that nagging thought crept back into her mind. She still hadn’t told him about Roy.
The guilt weighed on her. She liked Mitchell, and they were getting along so well, but would that change if he knew she was a single mother?
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Taking a deep breath, Riley decided to test the waters.
“Mitchell, what do you think about kids?” she asked, trying to sound casual but feeling her heart race as she waited for his answer.
Mitchell’s expression shifted slightly. He hesitated for a second and then quickly changed the subject.
Riley’s heart sank. His avoidance was clear, and it made her even more anxious about telling him the truth.
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She didn’t want to lose this connection, but hiding such a big part of her life felt wrong.
Before she could figure out what to say next, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Startled, she quickly excused herself and answered. It was Kyle.
“Kyle? Is everything okay?” she asked, trying to hide her rising worry.
Kyle’s voice was shaky. “Roy fell really bad, and he won’t stop crying. You need to come get him.”
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Riley’s heart leaped into her throat. Her son needed her, and there was no question in her mind about what she had to do next.
Riley took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she turned to Mitchell. She knew she couldn’t avoid the truth any longer.
“Mitchell, I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice slightly trembling.
Mitchell looked at her with genuine concern in his eyes. “What is it?”
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“I have an 8-year-old son, Roy,” Riley admitted, the weight of the words hanging in the air. “I didn’t tell you earlier because… I was afraid it would scare you away.”
She paused, gauging his reaction. His face showed a hint of surprise, but he remained silent, letting her continue.
“I left him at his friend’s house tonight so we could have some space, but he just got hurt, and I need to go get him. I’m so sorry. I lied, and I shouldn’t have done that.”
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Mitchell stared at her for a few moments, and Riley braced herself for the worst. But then, he smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that reassured her.
“Riley, it’s okay,” he said gently. “I understand. And honestly, I’ve been hiding something too.”
Riley blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
Mitchell let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair.
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“I have a daughter. She’s twelve. I didn’t mention her because I was afraid of how you’d react too.”
Riley’s heart lifted with relief. “You do?” she asked, her voice softening with surprise. She hadn’t expected this.
Mitchell nodded.
“Yeah, and I get it, Riley. Being a parent is tough. You’re constantly juggling everything, trying to make sure your kid is okay while also trying to live your own life. Dating is even harder when you’re trying to balance it all.” He smiled warmly at her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Why don’t I come with you? We can go get Roy together. I’d like to meet him.”
Riley’s eyes welled up with gratitude, a mixture of relief and joy washing over her.
She had been so scared of telling him, of being judged, but here he was, offering to help.
“You’d do that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
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Mitchell smiled again, his expression calm and reassuring. “Of course. I know how important he is to you. Let’s go make sure he’s okay.”
Riley couldn’t believe how everything had turned out. She smiled back at Mitchell, feeling a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in a long time. Together, they headed to the car, ready to get Roy.
Mitchell drove Riley to Kyle’s house, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. Riley sat beside him, her mind racing with worry about Roy.
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They barely exchanged words, but Mitchell’s presence was comforting. As soon as they arrived, they both hurried to the front door, their nerves apparent in their quick steps.
Kyle’s mother greeted them with a calm expression, clearly puzzled by their urgency. “Is everything alright?” she asked, looking from Riley to Mitchell.
“Kyle called and said Roy was hurt,” Riley explained, her voice trembling with concern.
Kyle’s mother’s brow furrowed in confusion, but she remained calm.
“Oh, I’m sure he’s fine. The boys are just upstairs, playing video games. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Riley and Mitchell followed her upstairs, hearts pounding, though the woman’s calm demeanor reassured them slightly.
When they reached Kyle’s room, Riley pushed the door open carefully, bracing herself. There, sitting on the floor, were Roy and Kyle, engrossed in their game, completely unharmed.
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Relief washed over Riley as she knelt in front of Roy, her voice soft but full of concern. “Roy, what happened? Kyle said you were hurt.”
Roy blushed deeply, fiddling with the controller in his hands. “I… I just missed you, Mom. I wanted you to come back.”
Riley’s heart melted. She pulled Roy into a tight hug, tears welling up in her eyes. “Oh, Roy. You don’t have to make up stories to see me. I’ll always come back for you, no matter what.”
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Behind her, Mitchell chuckled softly, the tension in the air dissolving. “Well, looks like the crisis has been averted,” he said with a grin.
As they drove home, Riley couldn’t help but laugh at how the night had turned out. All the stress and fear had vanished, replaced by the warmth of the moment.
She glanced at Roy, who was happily chatting away in the back seat, and then over at Mitchell, who smiled at her.
“How about our next date?” Mitchell asked, his eyes twinkling. “We bring the kids.”
Riley smiled back, her heart light. “I’d like that.”
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Demanding Parents Expect Nanny to Pay $1000 for Vacation Flights – Their Harsh Reality Check
“Jane, we need to talk about the vacation.”
I nodded, curious.
We had been home for two days now. Back from our trip to the seaside, staying in a luxurious resort. It was almost the break I needed, minus the fact that I had the Smiths’ three children, and their friends, the Johnsons’ two sons to care for as well.
I was just doing my job in a fancier location.
“Of course,” I said. “It was a lovely trip. Thank you again for inviting me.”
“Yes, well,” Mrs. Smith started. “We need to discuss the plane tickets. When will you be able to return the $1000?”
I blinked. I was sure that I had misheard her.
“Sorry, $1000? For the tickets? What?”
“Yes, for the tickets, Jane,” she spoke slowly as if I was stupid. “We spent a lot on them, and we thought you’d be grateful enough to pay us back.”
My heart raced. I didn’t have that kind of money to spare. I was their full-time nanny, with a mother to care for at home.
“But you told me that everything was sorted. You said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Jane. We’ve got it all covered.’”
Mrs. Smith’s expression hardened. Mr. Smith gazed at me.
“That was before the Johnsons refused to sign a business deal with Craig. That was the entire purpose of the holiday. Mr. Smith and I needed to woo them. So, there’s no need to seem generous now, Jane. You have exactly one week to return the money, or it will be taken from your pay.”
I was stunned. The room felt like it was spinning.
“But… I can’t afford that, Mrs. Smith,” I admitted. “Most of my salary goes to the rent at home and my mother’s medication. I can’t take that away from her. And you didn’t mention anything about paying you back!”
“That’s not our problem, Jane. One week,” Mr. Smith reiterated, reaching for a croissant from the tea tray left for Mrs. Smith. With a wave of his hand, he signaled the end of the discussion.
That night, I sat in my tiny room a few feet away from the Smiths’ house. I was seething. How could they do this? I needed a plan, and I needed it fast.
Then it hit me: the Smiths cared deeply about their social standing and their reputation.
“Of course, that’s all they care about,” I muttered to myself as I brushed my teeth before bed. “But I can use that to my advantage.”
The next day, after I dropped the kids off at school, I created a fake email account. I drafted a polite but detailed message about my experience, making sure to be clear without naming any names.
But there were enough telltale signs pointing to the Smiths, from their cars to the kids, to the gold facial appointments that Mrs. Smith bragged about.
Thereafter, I sent it to the key people in their social circle, including the other influential families that the Smiths wanted to be in league with.
“I just don’t understand what they want from us,” I overheard Mrs. Smith say into the phone later that day. “Eva asked me if everything is true, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
A few days later, the gossip started spreading. The Smiths’ dirty little secret on how they treated “their staff” was out, and naturally, their reputation took a hit.
Mrs. Smith called in a masseuse to soothe her muscles.
“Just let them into the spa when they arrive, Jane,” she said. “I need all the help I can get.”
Later that day, when I went to pick the kids up from school, the other nannies were hanging about, waiting for the bell to ring.
“Did you read the email about the Smiths?” one of the nannies said. “Jane, are they really like that?”
I nodded.
“They’re good parents, but they’re horrible people,” I admitted, not wanting to give away that I was the person who sent out the email.
“How long will you work for them?” another asked me. “I couldn’t live or work under those circumstances. Rich people need to learn that respect for them is earned, too.”
I smiled.
The nannies went back and forth as we waited. And through their chatter, I discovered something interesting about Mrs. Smith.
Turns out that my employer had a habit of “borrowing” items from her friends and never returning them.
“An entire Gucci handbag, Jane,” Mina said. “Mrs. Smith asked my ma’am if she could borrow it for a fundraising gala two months ago.”
“That’s ridiculous!” I said, shocked. “I didn’t know that she was capable of that sort of thing. But she doesn’t like me getting too close to her things anyway.”
A few days later, Mrs. Smith held one of her ladies’ luncheons. It was a monthly event that she loved hosting, but this time it was only two weeks into the month.
“I need this to go well, Jane,” she said as I cut fruit up for the kids. “So, you need to attend it. The kids will be at school. Everything will be catered for. Just walk around and talk to the women. Make us seem human.”
I knew that she was puzzling. She must have heard more than enough through the grapevine.
During the event, I walked around as requested of me. But I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip. And I had nothing to lose. The Smiths were probably going to fire me at the end of the week when I couldn’t make the $1000.
“We’ll deal with it, darling,” my mother coughed into the phone when I told her the truth of the matter.
At the luncheon, I walked around, casually mentioning to the ladies how much I admired Mrs. Smith’s collection, making sure that I spoke to Eva, Mina’s employer.
“Mrs. Smith has a stunning handbag similar to yours,” I said. “Gucci. Did she lend you this one? She’s always telling me that she lends her things out because she has so much.”
Eva looked at me over the top of her champagne glass.
“Is that so, Jane?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
Whispers started circulating. By the end of the luncheon, Mrs. Smith’s reputation for borrowing without returning was the hot topic.
The next morning, her friends began asking for their things back.
Mrs. Smith was mortified.
During dinner the next night, Mr. Smith called me to the table, asking me to join them.
“Thank you, but I usually wait for Ivy and Melanie to eat,” I said politely, mentioning the chef and her helper.
“No, sit with us,” he insisted.
I obliged.
Despite his tone, I hoped that maybe he was going to tell me that the money could be forgotten. And that everything would return as normal.
“It has come to my attention that an anonymous email has gone out,” he said, cutting into his steak.
“A disgusting email,” Mrs. Smith added, taking a long sip of her wine.
“Did you have anything to do with it?” he asked me, his eyes trying to coax a confession out of me.
I shook my head, looking down at my plate.
“Then that settles it,” he said, knowingly. “You’re dismissed. You can pack up and get out tomorrow.”
I did exactly as I was told and moved back home. A week later, Mrs. Johnson called me.
“Jane, can you come over for tea?” she asked warmly.
“Of course, Mrs. Johnson,” I replied, curious about the nature of the invitation.
As we sat in her luxurious living room, she looked at me with genuine concern.
“I heard about what the Smiths did to you. It’s disgraceful.”
I nodded, trying to keep my composure.
“Well,” she continued. “We’ve decided to cut ties with the Smiths entirely. And we’d like to offer you a job. Better pay, better working conditions. We could use someone like you for our kids.”
I was stunned.
“Of course!” I exclaimed. I needed the job desperately.
“You’ve earned it,” she smiled. “The boys loved having you watch them during the holiday. And somehow, you got Jonathan to eat his peas!”
I don’t know how the Smiths reacted to me working for the Johnsons, but I hoped that they felt betrayed.
What would you have done?
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