Sue was left in a cardboard box as a small child. Luckily, a store clerk took her home and changed the course of her entire life. Now, in the form of an unexpected knock at the door, Sue has to face her past and the disappointment that comes with it. Is this a grand reunion or the biggest disappointment of Sue’s life?
I was left in a cardboard box in a supermarket twenty years ago. I was just a few months old, and all I had to my name were a few photos of my mother and a note.
A baby in a cardboard box | Source: Midjourney
The note read: I will always love you, Sue.
Nobody knew my surname or whether I had a middle name. Nobody seemed to know my mother or what had happened to my father. I was all alone in a world that didn’t know anything about me.
A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
But even then, at a few months old, I seemed to be fortune’s fool. I was found by a kind store clerk, Ruby, who took me in.
“I couldn’t leave you there, Sue,” she would say whenever the story came up. “I became your guardian shortly after and raised you as my own. You became my little bug.”
Ruby was everything to me. And as I grew, the closer we became.
A smiling woman in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
I was forever grateful that she gave me everything I needed. But still, I never stopped wondering why my mother left me and if she would ever come back.
“I know that it bothers you, darling,” Ruby told me one day as she made lasagna for dinner. “But she’s an enigma now. We have nothing that could lead us to her.”
A tray of lasagna on a board | Source: Unsplash
“I know,” I said, grating more cheese for when the dish was ready. “It’s just frustrating when I start thinking about it.”
“You love the internet, you love social media, Sue. Use it, share your story, maybe it will resonate with people, and you can connect with others just like you.”
A person grating cheese | Source: Pexels
She opened the oven and put the tray of lasagna inside.
So I did just that, and I became a well-known video blogger, sharing my story with the world.
“You’ve created a safe platform for people to share their stories, too,” Ruby told me when I read comments from my latest video to her.
A young woman holding her phone | Source: Unsplash
“It means something to me,” I said, helping myself to the eclairs on the table.
Fast forward to the present. I am successful and able to provide for myself and my guardian.
“So much for being an abandoned baby,” I said to myself as I washed my face one night.
A woman washing her face | Source: Pexels
But imagine my surprise when an unexpected knock on my door changed everything.
I opened the door to find a frail, older woman standing there, her eyes filled with regret and desperation.
“Sue, darling,” she said. “I am your mother, and I need your help!”
A person opening a door | Source: Pexels
I just looked at her, unable to blink for fear of missing the moment.
“Do you still have the note I left with you when I left you safely in the store?”
Safely? I thought to myself. I stood there, paralyzed by the flood of emotions that had come in when she entered my home.
A sad woman holding her face | Source: Pexels
“Yes, I have it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I kept it.”
“I know I have no right to ask for your help after what I did, but I need you to believe me when I say I had no choice back then. I was running from a dangerous situation. And I thought leaving you in a safe place was the only way to protect you. I needed to disappear.”
A person wearing boots | Source: Unsplash
“What kind of situation?” I asked.
I had wondered about this moment for years. And every second that went by, I was just disappointed by the reunion with my birth mother.
She hesitated, looking down at her hands.
A person holding their hands together | Source: Unsplash
“There were people after me, people who wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted. I stole something once, just to help me out financially. I stole the wrong thing from the wrong people. I had to keep you safe. So I left you.”
Of course, my mother was shady.
Two people dressed in black | Source: Pexels
“You could have come back sooner. You could have tried to find me.”
“I know, but I was scared.”
I took a deep breath, trying to process everything.
“What do you need help with?”
A woman with her eyes closed | Source: Unsplash
She looked up, her eyes pleading.
“I need a place to stay, just for a little while, until I can get back on my feet. I have nowhere else to go.”
My heart ached. But I knew that Ruby would want me to say yes. She would tell me to do it. I could almost hear her words in my head.
A smiling older woman | Source: Pexels
“That’s your birth mother, Sue. Help her,” Ruby would say, most likely bribing me with something to eat.
“Okay,” I said finally. “You can stay. But this doesn’t mean everything is forgiven. We have a lot to talk about.”
She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
“Thank you. I promise, I’ll make things right.”
She reached down, picked up a worn duffel bag, and followed me in.
The first few days went by relatively smoothly. My mother seemed genuinely remorseful and tried to help around the house.
A worn duffel bag on the floor | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll cook and I’ll clean for you, darling,” she said.
But it didn’t last long.
One evening, I came home earlier from the local radio studio where I was being interviewed for my content. The house was unusually quiet.
A person holding cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels
Walking to my bedroom, I heard the faint sound of drawers opening and closing.
And there she was, standing there in front of my open jewelry box, my most precious pieces clutched in her hands.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, unable to contain my rage, but also wanting to keep calm at the same time.
An open jewelry box | Source: Midjourney
She looked up, startled, and for a moment, I saw a flash of guilt in her eyes.
“I was just… I thought maybe I could sell some of these to help me out. They’re heavy, so they’re real.”
“Of course, they’re real! They’re gifts from my mother! She saved up for years just so that she could get that diamond necklace for my 18th birthday. And you want to steal from me?”
A diamond necklace | Source: Unsplash
She looked shocked, like the wind had been knocked from her sails.
“You have so much, darling,” she said, almost whimpering. “I just thought that you wouldn’t miss a few pieces. We could use the money.”
“We? This isn’t about us; it’s about you. And it’s not about money, either. It’s about trust. You said that you wanted to make things right, but all you’ve shown me is that I cannot trust you.”
A woman holding her head | Source: Unsplash
She reached out to me, but I stepped back.
“Please, don’t do this, Sue. I can change. I just need some time.”
I shook my head, tears of betrayal and disappointment filling my eyes.
A close-up of a crying woman | Source: Pexels
“I gave you a chance. I let you into my home. I let you meet Ruby. And you still chose to betray me. No, I’m sorry. But you need to leave.”
Her face crumpled, and she pulled a tissue from my vanity.
“Please, just one more chance,” she said.
“I can’t,” I said, my voice breaking. “You need to go.”
A box of tissues | Source: Midjourney
“Sue, I gave birth to you,” she said, putting the necklace down.
“And you left me in a box,” I said.
I watched as she gathered her things and left, the duffel bag looking considerably fuller than when she arrived. But I didn’t have it in me to fight her again.
A full duffel bag | Source: Midjourney
Sadness and disappointment weighed me down heavily. But there was also a sense of relief.
Later, I went over to Ruby’s house. It was the one place that would always feel like home to me.
“Darling girl,” she said, flipping grilled cheese onto a plate. “You took a chance on someone who loved you, that’s what you take away from this experience.”
Grilled cheese on a plate | Source: Midjourney
I smiled at her. At the woman who had taken me home in a heartbeat and had loved me ever since.
But now, I worry that I’ve just sent my birth mother back into the world she had been trying to escape from.
A worried woman with her head on a table | Source: Pexels
Was I right in my decision?
MY DAUGHTER-IN-LAW TRIED TO SEDUCE MY HUSBAND FOR MONEY — SHE DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO TELL ME ABOUT IT.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, a comforting scent that usually signaled the start of a hectic workday. But yesterday, it was different. Yesterday, the kitchen held a quiet magic, a warmth that transcended the simple act of brewing coffee.
On the kitchen table, amidst the usual clutter of keys and mail, sat a neatly packed lunch bag. Beside it, a folded piece of paper, its edges slightly crumpled. A note.
My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the familiar, slightly slanted handwriting. It was Colton’s. Our 10-year-old foster son.
We’d opened our home to fostering after years of battling infertility. The empty rooms of our house had echoed with a longing that no amount of well-meaning advice could fill. We wanted to give a child a chance, a safe haven, a loving family.
Colton had arrived a year ago, a whirlwind of boundless energy and insatiable curiosity. He was a dreamer, a boy who found wonder in the simplest things. He loved riding his bike, exploring the neighborhood, and most of all, he loved helping in the kitchen, his eyes sparkling with the ambition of a future chef.
The note was simple, written in his characteristic, slightly misspelled script: “Lunch for you. Have a good day. Love Colton.”
And inside the lunch bag, a perfectly assembled sandwich, wrapped in wax paper, a small bag of chips, and a bruised but perfectly ripe apple.
It wasn’t just a sandwich. It wasn’t just a note. It was a testament to the bond we’d built, a tangible expression of the love that had blossomed between us.
For months, I’d felt a shift within me, a growing certainty that Colton wasn’t just a foster child, he was our son. The way he’d seamlessly woven himself into our lives, the way he’d filled the empty spaces in our hearts, it was undeniable.
That note, that simple gesture of love, solidified it. It was a quiet affirmation of what I already knew.
I shared the note with my wife, Sarah, her eyes welling up with tears as she read it. We looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. It was time.
Today, we made the decision official. We’re going to adopt Colton.
The paperwork is already underway, the legal process a mere formality compared to the emotional journey we’ve already undertaken. We’re planning a surprise for him, a small celebration to mark this momentous occasion.
We’ve decorated his room with balloons and streamers, a banner proclaiming “Welcome to your forever home!” We’ve baked his favorite chocolate chip cookies, and Sarah has even prepared a special dinner, a culinary masterpiece that would make any aspiring chef proud.
Tonight, when Colton returns from school, we’ll gather around the kitchen table, the same table where I found his note, and we’ll tell him the news.
I imagine his eyes widening with disbelief, then filling with tears of joy. I imagine him running into our arms, his small frame shaking with emotion.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that this is the best decision we’ve ever made. We’re not just giving Colton a home; he’s giving us a family, a love that’s richer and more profound than we ever imagined.
MY DAUGHTER-IN-LAW TRIED TO SEDUCE MY HUSBAND FOR MONEY — SHE DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO TELL ME ABOUT IT.
Our son’s wedding was in full swing, and let me tell you, I was tearing up the dance floor with my boy! Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever danced like that in my life. At some point, though, I realized I hadn’t seen the bride for at least 30 minutes.
Then my husband came up to me, looking tense. “We need to talk. Now,” he said. We stepped outside the hall, and what he told me made my jaw drop.
“I ran into our DIL in the hallway,” he started. “I hugged her and told her how much we love her. But apparently, she took it… differently. She said she loves me too — and even more than our son! Then she tried to kiss me on the lips!”
He continued, “I pushed her away, and she said she understood there might be witnesses here. Then she told me to meet her in her hotel room on the third floor in 20 minutes. I think we should both pay her a little visit.”
In 20 minutes, my husband, our relatives, and I opened the door to her hotel room. write a long story base on that above
The wedding reception was a blur of twinkling lights, joyous laughter, and the infectious rhythm of the band. I was lost in the moment, twirling my son around the dance floor, tears of happiness blurring my vision. It was a perfect day, a celebration of love and new beginnings.
But as the night wore on, a nagging unease crept into my heart. I hadn’t seen my daughter-in-law, Clara, for quite some time. She’d been a picture of radiant happiness during the ceremony, but now, she was nowhere to be found.
Then, my husband, Richard, approached me, his face etched with a seriousness that instantly sobered me. “We need to talk. Now,” he said, his voice low and urgent.
We stepped outside the grand ballroom, the sounds of the celebration fading into a muffled hum. Richard’s words, when he finally spoke, were like a slap in the face.
“I ran into Clara in the hallway,” he began, his voice tight. “I hugged her, told her how happy we were to have her as part of the family. You know, the usual father-in-law stuff.”
He paused, his eyes filled with disbelief. “But she… she took it differently. She said she loved me too. And then, she said she loved me more than our son.”
My breath hitched. “What?”
“She tried to kiss me,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper. “On the lips.”
I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. “No…”
“I pushed her away,” Richard said, his voice hardening. “And she said she understood there might be witnesses here. Then she told me to meet her in her hotel room on the third floor in twenty minutes. Said she wanted to talk.”
My mind raced, trying to comprehend what I was hearing. Clara, our son’s bride, attempting to seduce my husband? It was beyond comprehension.
“We’re going,” I said, my voice firm. “But we’re not going alone.”
We gathered a small group of our closest relatives, people we trusted implicitly. They were as shocked as we were, but they stood by us, their faces grim.
Twenty minutes later, we stood outside Clara’s hotel room, a knot of tension tightening in my chest. Richard knocked, a sharp, authoritative rap on the door.
Clara opened it, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the crowd behind Richard. She was dressed in a silk robe, her hair slightly disheveled.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“We’re here for that conversation,” Richard said, his voice cold.
We entered the room, the silence heavy and charged. Clara’s eyes darted between us, her face flushed.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered.
“Don’t lie, Clara,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “My husband told me everything.”
Her eyes flickered to Richard, then back to me. “He’s lying,” she said, her voice rising. “He’s the one who came onto me.”
“That’s enough,” Richard said, his voice cutting through the tension. “We’re not here to argue. We’re here to understand. Why?”
Clara’s facade crumbled. Tears streamed down her face. “I needed the money,” she sobbed. “I thought… I thought if I could get close to you, you’d help me.”
“Help you?” I asked, my voice incredulous. “By betraying our son?”
She didn’t answer. She just stood there, her shoulders shaking, her face buried in her hands.
We left her there, alone in her hotel room. The wedding was over, the celebration tainted. Our son was devastated, but he understood. The marriage was annulled, the betrayal too deep to forgive.
The aftermath was a whirlwind of hurt and confusion. But through it all, one thing remained clear: family was paramount. And we would always protect our own, no matter the cost.
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