After Years of Leaving and Going back to My Cruel Dad, My Mom Showed up on My Doorstep Again — Story of the Day

My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything.

I sat across from my friend Sandy in my kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of free time together. Life got busy, and it felt like we never saw each other anymore.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s nice to finally catch up,” Sandy said with a smile.

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, pouring her a glass of wine.

After a pause, she looked at me curiously. “Is your mom living with you now?”

“No, why would she?” Sandy’s eyebrows furrowed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I thought she left your dad again?”

“Oh, you know how it goes with them. Every two years, same story. He messes up, she gets mad, packs her bags, and swears she’s done for good. Then he buys her something fancy, and suddenly all is forgiven. They act like they’re in love again, like nothing ever happened.” Sandy sighed.

“Have you tried talking some sense into her?”

“I did,” I said, feeling the old frustration return.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I told her she deserves better. But then she goes back to him, and she’d get mad at me, saying I wasn’t supporting her.”

Sandy frowned and took a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry, Amalia. That sounds hard.”

My eyes landed on the corner of the kitchen table, where my mom had left a note the last time she left my dad. I could still picture her then—standing in my doorway, suitcase in hand, her face full of hope.

“I’ve left him for good this time, Amalia,” she said with a determined smile.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to believe her, but deep down, I doubted it. Still, a tiny hope stirred inside me, whispering that maybe this time would be different.

We went to a café nearby for breakfast, sitting across from each other. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and finally said what I’d been too scared to say before.

“Mom, you know you can’t keep going back to him, right?” I asked, my voice steady.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked down at her coffee, then back up at me with a weak smile. “Of course, I’m not planning to. I’ve made up my mind.”

I sighed and leaned closer. “He’s awful, Mom. He treated you terribly. He doesn’t change.”

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and took her hand.

“I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, you know?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She squeezed my hand, her eyes watering. “Thank you, dear. It means a lot.”

I thought maybe my words got through to her. Maybe this time would be different. But when I came back from work that evening, the house was quiet. I called for her, but no answer.

Instead, a note sat on the table: “Your father apologized and bought me a new car. I realized I overreacted and went back. XX Mom.” I crumpled the note, tossing it into the trash. How foolish I’d been to hope.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Sandy’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. “You should understand your mom better than anyone,” she said. “You left Robert, and that was hard. But you did it.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, it was hard. But I knew I had to.” She lifted her glass, her eyes warm.

“Well, I think you’re strong as hell. Cheers to that.”

I laughed and raised my glass. “Cheers.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up late. My alarm didn’t go off, or maybe I just slept through it. Either way, I was rushing around, trying to get dressed, find my keys, and grab my bag all at once.

My hair was a mess, and I could barely think straight. I could already tell it was going to be one of those days where nothing goes right. As I tried to slip on my shoes, I heard the doorbell. I glanced at the clock.

I didn’t have time for this. “Damn it,” I muttered, frustrated. I opened the door and froze. There stood my mom, holding a suitcase, her face serious.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the words slipped out. “What did Dad do this time?!”

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and she said, “He died.”

For a moment, everything around me just stopped. I couldn’t breathe or think. My mind went completely blank, like a switch had been turned off. I tried to say something, anything, but no words came out.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After hearing the news, I called my boss and said I needed the day off. There wasn’t much I could explain, so I just told him there was a family emergency. My mom and I got in the car and drove back to my childhood home.

When we arrived, I walked into my old bedroom and felt a rush of memories. Everything was the same—the posters on the wall, the faded bedspread, even the little figurines on the shelf. It was like stepping back in time, and for a moment, I felt like I was a teenager again.

On the morning of the funeral, I woke up to loud music blasting through the house. I groaned, pulled the pillow over my head, but Mom just turned it up louder, filling every corner of the house.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mom! Turn it off!” I shouted, my voice barely cutting through the blaring music.

“What?!” she yelled back from somewhere down the hall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you!”

A moment later, the music stopped, and I heard her footsteps. She appeared in my doorway, looking calm, like it was just a regular morning. “What were you saying?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Why is the music so loud?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s too early for this.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “This song makes me happy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I stared at her. “You’re not supposed to feel happy today. It’s the funeral.”

She looked at me, still smiling. “Why not? You should feel happy every day, no matter what’s happening.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Besides, this song is like 20 years old. Nobody listens to it anymore.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it,” she said. “I remember you dancing around your room, singing every word.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “and then I got sick of it, like everyone else.”

She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. When I love something, I love it forever,” she said softly, then turned and walked out. A few seconds later, the music started up again, just as loud.

After greeting everyone at the church, shaking hands, and hearing the same phrases—”I’m so sorry for your loss,” “He was a good man”—I felt drained. It was like I was on autopilot, just nodding and thanking people without really thinking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I needed a break, so I slipped away to a small, quiet room at the back of the church. I was hoping to be alone for a minute, but when I walked in, Mom was already there, sitting by the window. She looked up and smiled, her eyes tired but calm.

“I don’t like funerals either,” Mom said, staring out the window.

I just scoffed, feeling a bitter laugh rise in my throat. “Yeah, well, we’re stuck here.”

She turned back to me. “Did you prepare your speech?” she asked, her tone gentle.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head. “I’m not saying anything. I don’t have anything good to say about him.”

Mom’s face softened, like she was trying to understand. “Why not? He was a good father and a wonderful husband.”

I stared at her, stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we talking about the same person?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked confused. “Why do you hate him so much?” she asked, almost like she truly didn’t understand. “I never got it.”

“Why? Do you really want to know?” I felt something snap inside, and the words just came pouring out. “When I was 13, you went on a business trip, and my friend stayed over. We heard noises from your bedroom. We thought someone was hurt, so we went to check…”

“…And there he was, in bed with Mrs. Brown, our neighbor. I just screamed and ran out of the house. And when I came back, he didn’t say a word to me. He pretended like it never happened, like I didn’t see it. That’s why I hated him. And I still hate him,” I said, my voice trembling.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s eyes softened. “I know.”

“You don’t know how I feel!” I shouted, tears welling up.

“I mean, I know about the affairs,” she said, her voice calm.

“You knew?” I asked, shocked. “And you did nothing?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Of course I knew,” she said softly.

“Then I hate you too,” I said, my voice cold. I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.

“I’m sorry, Amalia,” Mom said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong like you. I was scared to leave him. I didn’t know how to do it for good.”

“You think I wasn’t scared when I left Robert? I was terrified,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “But I did it because I knew I had to. And you know what? It was hard, but eventually, it felt… freeing.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m glad to hear that. I never liked Robert, you know. When you left him, I was so proud. You knew you deserved better. But it wasn’t the same for me. When I love something, I love it forever. And I loved your father.” I stared at her, confused.

“Even after he treated you that way?”

She nodded. “He wasn’t perfect. I never needed him to be. He had flaws, and some were really big ones. But he always came back.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I frowned, trying to understand.

She sighed, her eyes meeting mine. “Honestly, I’m glad to hear you hate me. Because all this time, I thought you didn’t care. And between hate and indifference, I’d rather have your hate.”

I didn’t expect those words to hit me the way they did, but they did. For some reason, I found myself smiling a little. I glanced at the clock. “We need to go. People will be waiting.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom gently placed her hand on my back. “You know, your father loved two things most in life: expensive liquor and making you laugh. Maybe you can mention that in your speech, but… skip the first part,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I couldn’t help but laugh, a real, honest laugh, and for a moment, the tension lifted. We left the small room together, side by side, and I felt something shift inside me.

I glanced at Mom and realized she wasn’t just my mom—she was a person, with her own fears, flaws, and regrets. I had always seen her as someone who should be stronger, someone who should have known better. But in that moment, I understood she was just trying her best, like I was.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While helping her mother, Sarah, move into a new house, Natalie stumbles upon an old photograph hidden in a box. It shows a young Sarah holding a newborn baby with a distinctive birthmark on its cheek. But Natalie never had a birthmark. Confused and unsettled, she realizes there’s a secret her mother has been hiding.

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.

Old Woman Took My Hand and Started Predicting My Future, Persuading Me to Cancel My Wedding

When a strange woman grabbed my hand and warned me not to go through with my wedding, I brushed it off. But when I found out she was a paid actress, I had to know: who would go to such lengths to stop me from marrying the man I loved?

I was never the superstitious type. I’m Penelope, just your average woman juggling work, wedding plans, and spending time with my best friend, Esther. Life had been a blur of excitement lately. Cameron, my fiancé, was everything I could ever ask for — thoughtful, funny, and supportive.

A grayscale photo of a loving couple | Source: Pexels

A grayscale photo of a loving couple | Source: Pexels

Our wedding was just a couple of months away, and Esther, as usual, was by my side through all the chaos, helping me pick out flower arrangements, dresses, and everything in between.

It was a normal Saturday afternoon when the strange encounter happened. Esther and I had just left our favorite boutique, where we’d spent hours browsing through racks of dresses and debating which honeymoon destinations were overrated.

She was still trying to convince me that Fiji wasn’t all it was cracked up to be as we strolled through the supermarket, picking up a few groceries for the week.

A shopping cart in a grocery store aisle | Source: Unsplash

A shopping cart in a grocery store aisle | Source: Unsplash

We were halfway down the cereal aisle when I felt someone standing a little too close behind me.

Turning around, I was face-to-face with an old woman: her dark hair messy, her piercing eyes locked onto mine. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand, her grip firm, almost desperate.

“I feel four scars,” she said, her voice low and gravelly. “All on your legs. An animal… a wolf?”

An old woman with dark messy hair and piercing eyes is standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

An old woman with dark messy hair and piercing eyes is standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

I froze, my heart nearly stopping. My legs — she was right. I had those scars, deep and jagged from when a wolf attacked me on a family camping trip when I was five. I hadn’t told many people about that. How could she possibly know?

Esther, who had been distracted by a message on her phone, turned just in time to see the woman holding my hand. “Hey! Let go of her!” she snapped, stepping closer, ready to intervene.

A woman looking angrily at someone while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking angrily at someone while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

But the woman didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes stayed locked on mine. “I see your upcoming wedding,” she murmured, her grip tightening. “Don’t do it. Trouble awaits you.”

My breath caught in my throat. I felt like I was rooted to the spot, unable to move. How did she know about my wedding? What kind of “trouble” was she talking about?

A woman looks surprised and worried while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks surprised and worried while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

Before I could ask her any of these questions, Esther pulled my hand free from the woman’s grip with one sharp tug. “Are you out of your mind?” Esther hissed at the woman. “Get lost, witch!”

The woman blinked, as if waking from a trance, then slinked away without another word. I stared after her, my heart still pounding.

“Penelope, are you okay?” Esther asked, her voice softening now that the stranger was gone. “She was probably just some crazy lady. Don’t let it get to you.”

A woman looks concerned while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks concerned while standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

I tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said, though deep down, I wasn’t so sure. For the next two weeks, her words haunted me. “Don’t do it. Trouble awaits you.” They replayed in my mind like a broken record, and no matter how many times I told myself it was nonsense, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.

A woman looks worried and thoughtful | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks worried and thoughtful | Source: Midjourney

Then yesterday, while having lunch with my mom at a small café, I saw her again — at least, I thought I did. Across the street, a woman was hurrying into a shop, but this time, her hair was blonde, her eyes light. She looked completely different, but there was something about her, something familiar.

Without thinking, I jumped up from my chair and rushed outside. “Hey! You!” I called, catching up to her just as she was about to enter the shop.

A woman with blonde hair standing in a flower shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman with blonde hair standing in a flower shop | Source: Midjourney

The woman turned, startled. “Let me go!” she shrieked as I grabbed her wrist.

“Who are you?” I demanded, tightening my grip.

“I… I’m an actress,” she stammered. “I was paid to scare you into canceling your wedding.”

My heart dropped. “Paid? By who?”

She hesitated, then reluctantly pulled out her phone. My blood ran cold when she showed me the photo on her screen.

I could barely feel my legs as I stared at the picture on her phone screen.

An extremely shocked woman staring at a phone screen | Source: Midjourney

An extremely shocked woman staring at a phone screen | Source: Midjourney

It was Cameron. The man I was supposed to marry in a few months. The man I trusted, loved, and thought I would spend my life with.

“He… he paid you?” My voice cracked as I asked, still trying to process the betrayal.

The actress shifted nervously, glancing around as if afraid someone might see us. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I was just doing my job. Please let me go.”

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Why? Why did he do this?”

An angry and upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry and upset woman | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know,” she admitted, rubbing her wrist where I had grabbed her. “He just said he couldn’t go through with the wedding, but didn’t know how to tell you.”

I felt a burning rage rise in me, but it wasn’t the fiery kind that made me want to scream. No, this was cold. Ice cold. He couldn’t call off the wedding himself, so he hired someone to manipulate me into doing it? The sheer cowardice was almost laughable. Almost.

A closeup of a man paying money to a woman | Source: Pexels

A closeup of a man paying money to a woman | Source: Pexels

I exhaled slowly, forcing a calm that I didn’t feel. “Thank you for being honest,” I muttered, turning away from her. I didn’t wait for a response. My feet carried me down the street in a daze. My mind raced, thoughts of Cameron, the wedding, everything spinning out of control.

By the time I got home, I had already made up my mind. Two could play this game.

That evening, I set the table for dinner as if nothing had happened. I cooked his favorite — roasted chicken with rosemary potatoes — and made sure everything looked perfect.

A photo showing roasted chicken served with rosemary potatoes for dinner | Source: Midjourney

A photo showing roasted chicken served with rosemary potatoes for dinner | Source: Midjourney

The scent filled the apartment, warm and comforting, masking the cold storm brewing inside me.

When Cameron walked in, his usual cheerful demeanor seemed a bit off. Maybe it was guilt gnawing at him. Good. He deserved it.

“Hey, babe!” he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, oblivious to what was coming. “Something smells great.”

“Just your favorite,” I replied, forcing a smile as I placed the plates on the table. “I thought we could have a nice night in.”

A woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

He sat down, and for a moment, we ate in silence. I waited, watching him between bites, waiting for the perfect moment. My heart raced, but outwardly, I stayed calm. When the time felt right, I casually began the conversation I had been planning all day.

“So,” I started, my tone light and easy, “you won’t believe what happened to me today.”

He looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

A man looks surprised while sitting at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A man looks surprised while sitting at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

“I was at the supermarket with Esther,” I said, setting my fork down and meeting his gaze. “And this woman just came up to me, grabbed my hand out of nowhere.”

Cameron froze, his fork hovering mid-air. “What?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “What did she want?”

I shrugged, pretending it was no big deal. “Oh, she started talking about these scars I have on my legs. It was weird — she knew about them, even though I’ve never met her in my life.”

A closeup of a person's body with a scar | Source: Pexels

A closeup of a person’s body with a scar | Source: Pexels

His eyes widened slightly. “That’s strange,” he said, his voice a little too tight. “What else did she say?”

“Oh, you know,” I continued, keeping my voice light, “she mentioned our wedding. Said some interesting things about it.”

Cameron’s grip tightened on his fork. “Really? What… what exactly did she say?”

I smiled sweetly, watching him squirm. “She said you’d be a super successful man and that we’d have a very happy marriage.”

That’s when he choked. Right on cue.

A stunned man sitting at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A stunned man sitting at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

He coughed, gasping for breath as I sat back, watching with an almost detached amusement. His face turned pale, his eyes wide with panic as he tried to recover.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” I asked, doing my best to sound concerned, though inside, I was relishing every second of his discomfort.

“Y-yeah,” he sputtered, wiping his mouth. “Just… unexpected.”

I leaned in slightly, dropping the playful tone. “Unexpected? What’s unexpected, Cam? The part about us having a happy marriage? Or the fact that you’re such a coward, you couldn’t even break off the engagement yourself?”

An angry and upset woman  at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

An angry and upset woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

His face went white as a sheet. “W-what? What are you talking about, Pen?”

I didn’t let him off the hook. “I ran into your actress today. The one you hired to freak me out and get rid of me!”

For a moment, Cameron just sat there, stunned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He had no words: no explanation, no excuses. He was caught, and we both knew it.

“How… how did you—” he stammered, but I cut him off.

An extremely shocked man | Source: Midjourney

An extremely shocked man | Source: Midjourney

“Don’t you dare deny it! I know everything” I kept my voice low and steady. “You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out, huh?”

His hands trembled slightly as he set his fork down, staring at the table. “Pen, I—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted, standing up slowly. “Don’t even try to explain. I’m done being fooled by you.”

He finally looked up at me, his face a blend of guilt and desperation. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Pen. I thought it would be easier this way.”

A man looks guilty and desperate | Source: Midjourney

A man looks guilty and desperate | Source: Midjourney

I laughed — actually laughed at the absurdity of it. “Easier? You thought hiring some stranger to spout nonsense about our wedding would be easier than just talking to me? We’ve been together for years, Cam! And this is how you handle it?”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

I leaned in close, just enough to see the shame in his eyes. “I guess I’ll be the one to call off the wedding then,” I whispered.

A woman looking at someone at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at someone at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

With that, I turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving him sitting there, stunned and speechless. As I closed the door behind me, the weight that had been crushing me for weeks finally lifted. The future I had envisioned with Cameron crumbled, but in its place, a new path opened — one where I no longer had to pretend.

Game over, Cameron. Game over.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Did you find this story exciting? Wait till you read this next one: I was just moments away from saying ‘I do’ when the church doors burst open, and my father shrieked that the WEDDING WAS OFF. What he said next shattered my heart in the blink of an eye.

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.

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