When my son asked to throw his birthday party at my place, I said yes without thinking twice. But the next day, when my house was in ruins and my heart in pieces, my 80-year-old neighbor knew exactly what to do.
You never expect your own child to treat you like a stranger. But somewhere along the line, that’s exactly what happened with Stuart. I used to think maybe it was just the years of growing up, moving out, and being busy.
A young man smiles while laying on a couch. | Source: Midjourney
I tried not to take it personally. But deep down, I missed the boy who used to bring me daisies from the garden and help me carry groceries without being asked.
When he called — rare as that was — I didn’t expect anything more than the usual quick check-in. But that day, his tone was almost… warm.
“Hey, Mom,” he said. “I was wondering. My place is kind of cramped, and I wanted to throw a party for my birthday. Nothing crazy. Just a few friends. Could I use your house?”
A house at night | Source: Midjourney
My heart did this little leap it hadn’t done in years. I should’ve asked more questions or just said no. But all I heard was my son reaching out. I said yes.
“Of course,” I told him. “I’ll be at Martha’s anyway, so you’ll have the place to yourselves.”
I didn’t hear any loud music that night. Martha’s house was a good walk away from mine, and her garden and trees muffled most sounds.
A big estate surrounded by trees | Source: Pexels
I spent the evening helping her with her crossword puzzle and watching some old cooking show reruns.
She fell asleep in her recliner, and I curled up with a blanket in the guest room, hoping my son was having a nice time with his friends and that maybe things could change.
Maybe Stuart and I would get back to what we used to have.
I was wrong.
A woman in her 50s with a small smile | Source: Midjourney
The morning air was brisk when I stepped out of Martha’s back door. Her caretaker, Janine, was brewing coffee, and I waved goodbye, promising to bring back her glass casserole dish later.
My boots crunched softly along the gravel path as I walked home. A minute later, I saw the front of my house.
I stopped mid-step.
My front door was barely hanging on its hinges, twisted like someone had kicked it in. One of the front windows was shattered clean through.
A completely destroyed front door | Source: Midjourney
There was also burn damage on the siding, which I couldn’t figure out, and my chest tightened.
I picked up my pace, then broke into a run.
Inside was worse.
The cabinet my husband built before he passed was burned, and a chunk was missing from its side. Dishes were smashed all over the kitchen floor.
My hand-embroidered couch cushions were torn, and beer cans, broken glass, and ash littered everything.
Cans and glass shards scattered across a living room floor | Source: Midjourney
I stood frozen, keys still in my hand, wondering how a bunch of 30-somethings could wreck the place like this.
Then I saw the note.
It was sitting casually on the counter, folded in half, with a message scribbled in Stuart’s handwriting.
“We had a bit of a wild party to say goodbye to our youth. You might need to tidy up a little.”
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry at that moment. I just dropped my keys on the floor, got my phone out, and started dialing his number. It went straight to voicemail.
A worried woman using the phone | Source: Midjourney
I tried calling again, knowing he wouldn’t listen to any messages. Finally, I had to leave him a message.
“Stuart,” I said into the phone, trying to keep my voice even but not managing at all. “You need to call me. Right now. What happened here?”
I called again.
By the tenth time, I was sobbing.
A woman with a heartbroken expression | Source: Midjourney
“Stuart! You can’t ignore me after what you’ve done! How could you?! This is the house I worked so hard to pay off and raised you in after your father died! If you don’t fix this, I swear I will sue you for every penny! Do you hear me?! I’ll sue!”
After leaving that message, I slumped to the floor, breathing roughly.
My knees felt weak, and my hands were shaking.
I closed my eyes to avoid staring at the place I’d kept up for 20 years, which now looked like one of those apocalypse movies Stuart used to watch.
A woman resting against a wall, breathing heavily with her mouth open | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know how long I sat there, surrounded by the mess. But when my breathing normalized, I stood and grabbed a dustpan from under the sink to begin sweeping broken glass, one jagged shard at a time.
Around an hour later, through the shattered window, I spotted Martha walking up the drive with her caretaker. She’d always walked in the mornings, arm linked with Janine, moving slowly but steadily.
Today, she froze.
An elderly woman and nurse with shocked expressions | Source: Midjourney
She looked at my house like she was seeing a corpse.
“Martha?” I said, stepping outside and brushing glass from my sweater. My voice cracked. “It’s… It’s bad. I let Stuart throw a party, and he trashed it. It’s a whole mess. I might not be able to come over for afternoon tea.”
Her eyes didn’t blink for a long moment. Then she placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, my dear Nadine,” she said, her voice low with a kind of quiet, rising anger. “You absolutely need to come over later. We have to talk.”
An elderly woman with an upset expression | Source: Midjourney
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what there was to talk about.
With a final nod, she turned and walked back the way she came with Janine.
A few hours later, I walked back along the same path, the long way to Martha’s estate, wiping dust from my pants and trying to look like someone who hadn’t cried all morning.
When I reached her big front door, Janine opened it with a small smile and let me in.
A grand front door | Source: Pexels
Martha was seated in her favorite wingback chair with a cup of tea balanced on her saucer. She nodded warmly at me. “Have a seat, Nadine. I’ve asked Stuart to come as well. He’ll be here any moment.”
I wasn’t sure my son would come, but true to her word, I heard the low growl of a car engine outside just a minute later.
I should’ve known. Stuart had always coveted Martha’s wealth and her house. Of course, he came running for her, while my voicemails and calls were ignored.
A man walking up a driveway, smiling | Source: Midjourney
My son strutted in, wearing sunglasses and sporting a confident smile. “Hey, Martha,” he said cheerily. “You wanted to see me?”
“Sit,” she said, gesturing to the empty couch.
He dropped onto it with a bounce, looking only at Martha while I stared daggers into his face.
Before I could say anything, my dear neighbor began speaking. “I’ve made a decision,” she started, folding her hands in her lap. “It’s time for me to move into a retirement community. I’ve resisted long enough, and Janine’s been helping me find a good one.”
People at a retirement facility | Source: Pexels
Oh, no. I was truly going to miss her.
Stuart sat up straighter. “Oh wow, yeah? That’s a big step.”
She nodded. “It is. I was going to sell the house. But then I thought, no. I’d rather give it to someone I trust.”
My son’s eyebrows shot up. He knew, just as I did, that Martha had no family left.
“I wanted to give my house to you, Stuart.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, looking serious | Source: Midjourney
He jumped to his feet. “Are you serious?! Martha, that’s… that’s incredible! Thank you! I mean, wow, this place is amazing.”
Martha raised a hand.
“But,” she continued, and the room went still, “after I saw with my own eyes what you did to your mother’s house and the state she was in this morning… I’ve changed my mind.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, looking serious and raising a finger | Source: Midjourney
My son froze.
Martha’s gaze moved to me. She reached out and laid a soft hand over mine but continued speaking to Stuart.
“I’m giving it to her… and the majority of my estate when I pass, so she doesn’t have to worry about money again.”
Stuart’s mouth fell open. “Wait—what?! No! We just had a bit of fun last night,” he sputtered, his voice rising with each word. “We didn’t do anything that couldn’t easily be repaired or cleaned up! C’mon, Martha, you know me. I swear, this is just a misunderstanding.”
A man yelling in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“You’d better lower your voice in my house, young man,” Martha stated firmly.
He took a step back and breathed deeply before trying to speak again. “Please… I can explain,” he started, but Martha’s hand came up again.
“No, I’ve made my decision,” she said, even more serious now. “And honestly, after what you pulled, I’m glad I never had kids of my own.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, raising a hand | Source: Midjourney
The room went quiet after that statement, which floored me, to be honest.
I had talked to Martha several times about her life. I’d asked if she regretted not building a family to focus on making money. She never outright said she would change anything, but sometimes, her tone was wistful.
I always thought she had some doubts, but now, I knew differently. Her voice was final.
After a minute of awkward silence, my son transformed.
A man with angry eyes in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“Fine! Keep your stupid money!” he shouted, looking between us with angry, hateful eyes. “I don’t need it! I don’t need either of you!”
Then he stormed out, slamming the heavy front door behind him.
Once again, silence fell. It was different, though. The tension was gone.
But I still stared at my hands, rubbing my fingers to keep from crying, and after a second, I met Martha’s eyes.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered.
A woman staring sadly at someone in a living room | Source: Midjourney
She smiled gently. “You don’t have to say anything, Nadine. You earned it. You’ve been the most beautiful friend I could’ve had over the decades. No one deserves it more than you.”
I nodded and couldn’t stop myself from crying this time. But I wasn’t sure if they were happy tears or not.
I’d just received the biggest gift of my life, and even though I was so appreciative, my son had just treated me horribly.
I couldn’t be fully happy with that knowledge. I had not raised him to be that way. But there was nothing I could do right then.
So I’d have to settle for enjoying this moment… bittersweet as it was.
A woman staring thoughtfully to the side in a living room | Source: Midjourney
I Went to Care for My Sick Boyfriend, but What I Found Changed Everything and Brought Someone Unexpected into My Life — Story of the Day
I went to check on my boyfriend, worried he was too sick to even text me back. But what I found shattered my trust and sent my world spinning. Days later, the last person I ever expected showed up at my door, and together, we started something that changed my life forever.
One crisp autumn day, I sat alone in my small, cozy apartment, the sunlight streaming weakly through the windows.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The orange and red leaves outside seemed to mock my restlessness as I stared at my phone, waiting for my boyfriend, Jace, to finally show up.
He hadn’t visited in days, claiming he was just tired, but something about his excuses didn’t sit right with me.
I fiddled with the hem of my sweater, tapping my foot anxiously against the hardwood floor. Finally, I gave up and dialed his number. The phone rang a few times before he answered.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Hello?” Jace answered, his voice low and groggy, like he’d just woken up.
“Are you sleeping?” I asked, trying to hide the edge in my voice.
“Yeah,” he said, pausing for a second. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I just fell asleep. I’m not feeling great—might have a fever or something.”
“Oh…” I said softly, not sure what else to say.
He coughed hard into the phone, making me wince. “Look, I’ll text you later,” he muttered, his words rushed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Feel bet—” I started, but the line went dead before I could finish.
Frustration bubbled up as I tapped my fingers on the table, my thoughts racing. If Jace was really sick, I couldn’t just sit there doing nothing. I’d take care of him, whether he liked it or not. That’s what girlfriends do, right?
Grabbing my coat, I headed out into the crisp autumn air, determined. The walk to the store was brisk, the kind that makes your cheeks tingle.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Inside, I picked up fresh fruit, tea, and a box of throat lozenges, imagining how grateful Jace would be when I showed up.
Back at his building, I pressed the elevator button, adjusting the heavy bag on my arm. Usually, I took the stairs, but not today.
The elevator hummed softly as it descended, and I distracted myself by humming along to a tune stuck in my head.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
When the doors slid open, my heart stopped. There he was—Jace—with his arms around a woman I didn’t recognize.
Her face pressed against his chest, and they were so close it made my stomach churn. This wasn’t just a hug. It was something more.
“Looks like you’re feeling better,” I said, my voice louder than I intended, cutting through the quiet hallway.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Jace’s head whipped toward me, his face draining of color. “Kate…” he stammered, his arms falling away from the woman. He stepped toward me, his hand reaching out like that would somehow fix things. “I can explain.”
His mouth opened, but I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Just don’t. If you take one more step or say one more word, I swear I’ll make you regret it.” I hurled the bag of groceries at him, the fruit spilling across the floor.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Without waiting for his reaction, I turned and walked away, my heart pounding with anger and disgust.
He didn’t call after me, didn’t try to stop me, and for that, I was glad. He wasn’t worth it. Not anymore.
A few days had dragged by since I’d caught Jace in the elevator with another woman. He hadn’t bothered to call, text, or even send a pathetic apology.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Not even a simple “I’m sorry, I’m a jerk, and I don’t deserve you.” Was that too much to ask?
It gnawed at me, this unfinished business. I couldn’t move on, couldn’t let go, because it felt like he was still lurking in my life, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
I decided I needed closure, even if it meant facing him. So, I texted him, my fingers trembling with anger. After a few minutes, he replied.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
@Jace:
Let’s meet tonight at 6 p.m., at our café.
Our café. The place where we had our first date. The nerve. Still, I agreed.
At 6 p.m., I sat in the corner booth, the one we always chose. The warm smell of coffee and pastries surrounded me, but it brought no comfort.
Every time the door opened, I glanced up, expecting to see him. But Jace didn’t show.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
By 7 p.m., I was tapping my foot under the table, staring at the cold tea I hadn’t touched. By 8 p.m., I was furious. Finally, my phone buzzed.
@Jace:
I can’t come. I can’t stand seeing you so sad like this.
I stared at the screen, stunned by his cowardice. What did that even mean? He couldn’t stand seeing me?
He was the one who had cheated, yet he was acting like the victim. My anger boiled over.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
When I finally got home, the fury still burned in my chest. I stomped up the stairs, muttering under my breath.
Then, as I turned the corner, I froze. Standing outside my apartment was her. The woman from the elevator. She looked nervous, like she’d been waiting for me.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the hallway. I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to show up.
“I want to talk to you,” she said, her tone calm but uneasy. “I feel like I owe you… more than just a conversation.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I folded my arms tightly, glaring at her. “You’re a few hours late,” I snapped. “I don’t want anything to do with that jerk. You can have him.” Turning away, I fumbled with my keys, determined to shut this conversation down.
“That’s the thing—I don’t want him either,” she said, her voice firmer this time. It stopped me cold. “I finally realized what he’s really like, and I wanted to talk to someone who understands.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I hesitated, my hand still on the doorknob. This was absurd, completely insane. But a part of me was curious.
With a deep sigh, I turned back to her. “Fine. Come in,” I said, pushing the door open and stepping aside.
As she entered, I asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Ashley,” she said softly, her eyes darting to the floor.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Kate,” I said, introducing myself reluctantly.
“I know,” she admitted, guilt written all over her face.
I walked to the kitchen, motioning for her to follow. “Come on,” I said. “I’d offer you tea, but I think this calls for something stronger.” I grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter and set it down.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ashley sat at the table, folding her hands nervously. “You didn’t know about me,” she began. “But I knew you existed. Jace told me he had a girlfriend, but he said you were awful to him. He claimed you ignored him, flirted with other men, made him feel worthless.”
“What the—?! That’s exactly what he did to me!” I burst out, anger flaring.
Ashley nodded slowly. “I see that now, after what happened when you caught us. But back then, I believed him. I thought he was going to leave you and be with me.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Looks like the jerk fooled both of us,” I said bitterly, pouring the wine.
“That’s why I’m here. I don’t want him to get away with it,” she said, her voice steady.
“What are you suggesting?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
Ashley smiled, a sly, mischievous grin. “Revenge,” she said simply. “You know how much of a homophobe Jace is?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her words made me pause, curiosity sparking despite my anger. And that was how it all began.
Ashley and I wasted no time setting our plan into motion. We created several profiles for Jace on popular dating sites, carefully crafting his “interests” and uploading photos we had saved from his social media.
We sent flirty messages to men who seemed eager to connect, pretending to be Jace himself.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m looking for someone special,” we wrote, ending with a winking emoji. We even set up meetups at his apartment, choosing times when we knew he’d be home.
The thought of him opening his door to confused strangers made us laugh until our sides hurt.
On another site, we posted his phone number with the tagline: “Night owl? Call me between 2 and 4 a.m. for some fun.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Though we couldn’t track the exact number of calls, the texts we received from Jace told us everything we needed to know. “Who are these people?” “Why won’t my phone stop ringing?” His desperation fueled us to keep going.
The billboard idea was the final touch. We found ad space in the busiest parts of town and designed a bright, eye-catching poster featuring Jace’s smiling face with the caption: “Looking for a man to support and cherish.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Seeing the first billboard go up was priceless. We high-fived in the car, imagining his face when he spotted it.
Our phones buzzed nonstop with texts and calls from Jace. “You have to stop this,” he wrote. “Please, I’m begging you!”
Eventually, we responded.
@Me:
We can stop, but there’s one condition.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
@Jace:
I’ll do anything. Just stop.
I sent him the amount—enough for a two-week vacation to Spain. When the transfer hit my account, I sent him one last text.
@Me:
Oops, we forgot the passwords to the accounts, and the billboards are prepaid for two months 
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
After sending that final text to Jace, Ashley and I blocked his number. There was nothing more to say. The moment felt oddly triumphant, like closing the chapter of a bad book I’d been stuck reading for far too long.
We immediately turned our focus to planning the trip. A few days later, Ashley and I landed in Spain.
The sun was bright, the air warm, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore was the perfect soundtrack to our newfound freedom.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
We found a spot on the beach, stretched out on lounge chairs, and ordered cold sangria.
Ashley turned to me with a grin. “Best team effort ever,” she said, raising her glass of sangria. I smiled, knowing she was right.
I’d lost a terrible boyfriend but gained one hell of a friend. Revenge never tasted so sweet.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When a grouchy old man slams the door on a persistent teen, he thinks he’s rid of her for good. But when a hurricane traps them together, the storm outside reveals the truth about her shocking connection to his past.
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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