As Lila was ready to celebrate her 17th birthday, she received an unexpected and creepy gift from her stepmother: a pink funerary urn. Like the type you keep ashes in? Yes, that’s the one. But that’s not all! Lila learns that her college fund was given to Monica to open her salon. What will Lila do?
Let me tell you, I’ve been sitting on this one for a few days, just trying to make sense of what went down.
I always thought my stepmom, Monica, was the worst, though not Disney villain evil. She was the kind of person who talks over you, forgets your birthday, and calls you “kiddo” when you’re practically an adult.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
But, what she pulled on my 17th birthday? It shattered whatever shaky truce we had.
At least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, things weren’t exactly what they seemed.
Here’s how it all went down.
My mom, Sarah, died when I was ten, and after that, it was just Dad and me. We were a solid team. The type of team that has pizza for dinner half the week, late-night movies, and this unspoken agreement that we’d always have each other’s backs.
Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
Then came Monica, about three years ago.
At first, she wasn’t horrible; she was just… there. Like a stray cat that never leaves, so you have no choice but to adopt it. Monica moved into our house, took over the bathroom with her fifty bottles of face serums and creams, and slowly pushed her way into my dad’s world.
Monica had big dreams of opening a hair salon, which was fine. I wasn’t against people having dreams. I had my own dreams waiting for me, but she treated me like I was just this annoying piece of furniture that came with the house.
A woman’s vanity | Source: Midjourney
Honestly, I was counting down the days until I could escape to college.
Dad had promised me since middle school that there was a college fund waiting for me.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he told me. “Your mom and I put together the fund when you were five. There’s more than enough, and every year on your birthday and Christmas, I add more.”
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Dad,” I said. “I just want to study and make something of myself, like Mom said.”
“You only have to worry about your grades, Lila,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest.”
Naturally, I worked my butt off in school, knowing that in a few years, I’d be out of here.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
College was my golden ticket, and no one — not even Monica — would stand in my way.
At least, that’s what I thought.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I came downstairs expecting the usual lukewarm effort. By lukewarm, I mean a sad card, some pancakes, and Monica forgetting my favorite syrup. Dad was at work, so it was just Mon and I.
A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney
She handed me a gift bag, which was already weird because Monica wasn’t exactly the thoughtful or sentimental type.
“Happy Birthday, kiddo,” she said, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles.
I wasn’t expecting much, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.
I reached inside the bag and pulled out… an urn.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
A funerary urn.
You know, the kind that people store ashes in. Cold, heavy, and, well, pink. It was pink.
I just stared at it, my brain short-circuiting.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding the urn like it was cursed.
A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, smug as ever.
“It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?”
Monica’s grin widened.
A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“It’s time to bury your dreams of college, kiddo. Your dad and I talked about this, and we decided to put the college fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I asked, a cold shiver running through me.
“Yep. We’re investing it in my hair salon. College is a gamble, Lila. A business? That’s something real, sweetie.”
A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney
She sipped her coffee like she’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world.
I was frozen in place, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. Had they really taken my future, everything I’d worked for, and sunk it into Monica’s salon dream?
“How could you do this?” I whispered.
Monica just smiled, a little too pleased with herself.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
“Life’s full of disappointments, kiddo. Better get used to it now,” she said.
Wow.
That was it. I was done. I ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me so hard that the walls shook.
I cried so hard it hurt. What else could I do? Everything I had been holding onto was gone, and the only person I thought I could count on, Dad, had let this happen.
An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
My mom wanted me to get out and make something of myself. And now? It was all over.
The next few days were a blur. I didn’t speak to Monica or my dad unless I absolutely had to. Every time I looked at that stupid urn sitting on my desk, my stomach twisted.
I couldn’t even bring myself to throw it out. It felt like some kind of morbid evidence. Like proof of the betrayal I didn’t see coming.
A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney
At school, my friends tried to cheer me up.
“Maybe she thought it was funny, Lila,” my friend Kira said. “Like, who really knows what Monica is thinking?”
“And anyway, there’s nothing stopping you from throwing it out! Just do it! Don’t overthink it,” Mel said.
Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney
But still, I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Monica was prancing around, acting like she was the queen of the house, while I sat there with no future.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk. Not in an envelope, just folded, with my name written in Monica’s messy handwriting.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me. -M.
I almost laughed out loud. Trust her? Yeah, right.
But something about the note gnawed at me. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to confront her one last time, tell her exactly what I thought of her.
Against my better judgment, I decided to go.
A note on a table | Source: Midjourney
When I got to the salon, the lights were off, and the front door was unlocked.
I hesitated for a second, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. But curiosity got the best of me.
I stepped inside, and there they were. Monica and my dad, standing side by side, both grinning widely.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted, throwing her arms up like this was the happiest moment of her life.
The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney
I just stared at them, completely lost.
“What is this?”
Monica stepped aside, and that’s when I saw it — a shiny, brand-new sign mounted on the wall.
Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah
I blinked, feeling like the room was tilting on its axis.
A hair salon | Source: Midjourney
“What… what is this?”
Monica smiled, but it wasn’t her usual smug grin. This one was softer, almost real.
“We didn’t use your college fund, kiddo. It’s all still there. The salon? It’s not just for me. It’s for you, too. For other kids like you, too.”
I couldn’t breathe.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“But then, why would you make me think otherwise?” I asked.
Monica winced, putting her hand on her head.
“Yeah, so, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it’d be motivational, like, bury the past and embrace the future. You know? But it turns out that it was just creepy.”
A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, speechless.
My dad stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“We’ve been planning this for months, Lila,” he said. “Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This salon is going to fund scholarships. For you and for others in her name.”
“The salon has been my dream, Lila,” Monica said. “But it was never going to come at your expense. This way, a great portion of all our profits in the future will go to the fund.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t know what to say.
Or what to think.
Just that I felt a warm haze take over me.
Monica laughed softly.
“I’m not a monster, darling,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was trying to take over your mom’s role.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, but things with Monica probably never would be. But, at that moment, standing in the middle of a salon named for my mom’s dream, I realized that she wasn’t trying to ruin my life.
She was trying to build something bigger than any of us.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
And somehow, against all odds, it felt like a new beginning.
And yeah, I kept the urn. But I planted white peace lilies in it, thinking it would be symbolic after all. And who knows, maybe I’ll take the urn to college.
What would you have done?
Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Transferred $24K to My Daughter for Her College Tuition, Only to Discover She Never Enrolled — What She Spent It On Made Me Pale
Caroline had been saving for her daughter’s college fund since Angela was born. But after a classmate of Angela’s reveals that Angela is not actually enrolled in college, Caroline must uncover what her daughter is doing and what she used the money for.
Children are always going to break your heart. This was something that I learned the hard way after trusting my daughter, Angela, completely.
A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
Since Angela was born, I have been saving for college. I needed to know that irrespective of what life threw my way, I would be able to educate my child.
“I think you can wait until she’s a little older,” my husband, Holden, said. “We can do it together.”
“You can add to her college fund later,” I said, looking at my baby girl. “But I’m going to start from next month. I wasn’t able to study, Holden. And it was because we didn’t have the opportunity to do so. Angela is going to get that opportunity.”
A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney
“Okay, Caroline,” my husband said. “You start it now, and I’ll add to it in a year. The house will be paid off, and I’ll be able to put that money into the fund.”
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 Husband Quit His Job Because He Was Sick—I Trusted Him and Gave Him All My Money for Treatment, Until the Truth Came Out
They say love makes you blind, and I guess I was living proof of that. When my husband, Kyle, quit his job, claiming he was sick, I trusted him without question. I worked harder and gave him every dollar I had. But the truth I uncovered? It shattered everything.
When you love someone, you never expect them to lie. Especially about something as serious as their health. But looking back, I should have seen the signs.
I missed them all until a stranger rolled down her car window and told me something I never saw coming.
A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney
Being a mom and wife has always been my pride and joy. My days were a whirlwind of work, chores, and family time, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I’m a project manager at a software company, and I really love my job. It pays me enough to support my little family.
Our two boys, Liam and Jake, are my biggest motivators.
Two brothers standing together | Source: Midjourney
Liam, 12, has a curious mind and a talent for science. He’s always tinkering with gadgets or asking a million questions about how things work. Meanwhile, Jake, 10, is our little athlete. He’s the kind of kid who’s always kicking a soccer ball or racing his bike around the neighborhood.
And then there’s Kyle, my husband of 15 years.
Kyle has always been my rock. He’s the calm to my chaos, the steady presence that keeps our family grounded.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
He worked as an operations manager at a logistics company, a job that kept him busy but provided well for us.
There were times when I’d look at him across the dinner table, watching him laugh with the boys or share stories about his day, and think, I’m so lucky.
Life was good.
But that all changed one afternoon when Kyle walked through the front door, holding a folder in his hands and looking like he’d seen a ghost.
A worried man | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, you’re home early,” I said, glancing up from my laptop. But the moment I saw his expression, I knew something was wrong.
His face was pale, his lips pressed tightly together as he set the folder down on the table.
“Kyle? What happened?” I stood and walked over to him, my heart pounding in my chest. “Is everything okay?”
He looked up at me, and his eyes had this look I couldn’t quite figure out.
Was it fear? Regret? I still don’t know.
“Laura,” he began, his voice shaky, “I have muscular dystrophy.”
A worried man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
I froze. “What?”
He sat down heavily, rubbing his face with both hands.
“I’ve been feeling off for months. I went to the doctor, ran some tests… This is why I’ve been so tired.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I can’t work anymore,” he continued. “I’ll need expensive treatment, but it’s my only chance.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Muscular dystrophy. The words echoed in my mind, making my stomach twist.
I sat down across from him, reaching for the folder.
A person holding a folder | Source: Pexels
Inside were test results, doctor’s notes, and medical papers. Everything looked serious.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but… I need to start treatment. I think we’ll need to cancel the trip with the boys. I hate to do this to them, but…”
I reached across the table, taking his hands in mine. “Kyle, stop. The boys will understand. We’ll figure this out. You’re going to get the treatment you need.”
Tears welled up in his eyes. “I hate that you have to deal with this.”
A man looking away | Source: Midjourney
“I’m your wife,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We’ll get through this together.”
But as I sat there, staring at those papers, a cold, creeping fear settled over me. How would we afford this?
Later that night, as we lay in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“We’ll need more money,” I murmured, staring at the ceiling.
Kyle turned to me. “Laura, I don’t want you working yourself to death for me.”
A worried man looking at his wife in bed | Source: Midjourney
“I can handle it.” I turned to face him, determination in my eyes. “I’ll get a part-time job after work. We’ll cut back on expenses. You’ll quit your job and focus on your health.”
His lip quivered. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.”
The next day, I went to a neighborhood restaurant and got a job cleaning tables in the evenings. After finishing my day at the software company, I’d head straight there to clean.
It was exhausting, but I didn’t care.
A person cleaning a countertop | Source: Pexels
I handed almost all the money I made to Kyle for his treatment. And I could see how he was changing. He looked happier and more relaxed.
Seeing that gave me the strength to keep going, even when I felt like collapsing from exhaustion.
The routine became second nature. Work all day, clean tables at night, and fall into bed exhausted.
I was running on fumes, but every time I saw Kyle smile or heard him say, “Thank you for everything, Laura,” it felt worth it.
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
He kept going to his treatments during the weekdays while I was at work.
“It’s best if I go alone,” he’d say. “I don’t want you missing work for this.”
I never questioned it. I trusted him completely.
But then one evening, something strange happened.
I was on my way to the restaurant, clutching my coat against the chilly wind when a white SUV pulled up next to me. The window rolled down slowly and inside sat a striking woman with dark glasses and perfectly styled hair.
A white SUV | Source: Pexels
She leaned over the passenger seat. “Are you Laura?”
I froze, tightening my grip on my bag. “Yes… Who’s asking?”
She took off her sunglasses, revealing sharp, piercing eyes. “Is Kyle your husband?”
“Yes,” I said. “Why? Is he okay?”
The woman tilted her head slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Oh, he’s more than okay. But you should really check where he goes for his ‘treatments.’ And while you’re at it, look at his bank statements.”
I blinked, stunned. “What? Who are you? What are you talking about?”
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
She pressed her lips together like she was debating how much to say.
“Let’s just say I’m doing you a favor,” she said before rolling the window back up. The SUV then drove off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk in a daze.
What the heck was that about?
The whole walk to the restaurant, her words echoed in my mind. Why would a random woman say something like that? And how did she know Kyle?
A woman walking on a street at night | Source: Pexels
When I got home that night, Kyle was already asleep.
I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock, my mind racing. Something about that encounter wasn’t sitting right with me.
The next morning, Kyle grabbed his usual bag and kissed me on the cheek before heading out.
“I’ll be back around three,” he said. “I’ve got two procedures today. The other one’s at night.”
“At night?” I asked.
“Yeah, my therapist scheduled a special session today.”
“Okay,” I said, forcing a smile. “Take care.”
As soon as he left, I went straight to his laptop. My hands shook as I opened his banking app. I told myself I wasn’t snooping. I just needed peace of mind.
A woman using her husband’s laptop | Source: Pexels
But as I scrolled through the transactions, my stomach dropped.
There were no payments to medical facilities. No hospital charges. No doctor’s fees. Nothing.
Instead, I saw restaurant bills, golf club memberships, expensive clothing stores, and even a charge for a weekend trip to a resort I’d never heard of.
What the heck?
I scrolled faster, hoping I was missing something. But it was all there in black and white.
Kyle wasn’t paying for treatments. He was spending our money on luxury items. Things we never discussed. Things I never approved.
A woman looking surprised while using her husband’s laptop | Source: Midjourney
By the time I closed the laptop, I was trembling. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Later that evening, I decided to follow him when he left for his “special session.”
I stayed a safe distance behind, my heart pounding with every step.
But Kyle didn’t go to a hospital or a clinic.
He went to a small bar downtown. The kind of place where people went to relax and unwind.
A neon ‘bar’ sign | Source: Pexels
I stood outside that bar, frozen in place, watching Kyle laugh and joke with his friends. It felt like I was watching a stranger. The man inside wasn’t the sick, struggling husband I thought I knew.
He was someone else entirely.
I took a deep breath and stepped closer to the window, just in time to hear him speak.
“I told you I could do nothing for three months,” Kyle said, raising his glass. “And you were wrong!”
His friends burst out laughing, clinking their glasses together.
A man laughing | Source: Pexels
“Man, I still can’t believe you pulled this off,” one of them said. “Your wife really bought it?”
Kyle chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Hook, line, and sinker. Told her I was too sick to work. Now I’ve got all the time in the world to hang out with you guys.”
They laughed again, loud and carefree, while my heart shattered into pieces.
“And she’s still giving you money?” another friend asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
A man sitting in a bar | Source: Midjourney
“Yep.” Kyle took a sip of his wine, looking smug. “She even picked up a part-time job to make sure I’m covered. I gotta say, being married to someone so gullible has its perks.”
His words cut through me like a knife. My mind reeled with images of him sitting at home, watching me rush from one job to the next, while he lived it up with his friends.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned around and walked away as tears blurred my vision.
A woman standing outside a bar | Source: Midjourney
As I was about to head back home, I saw the same white SUV outside the bar. The woman from before rolled down her window when she saw me.
“Did you see it?” she asked softly.
I nodded, unable to speak.
She sighed. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. My boyfriend is one of his friends. When I heard what they were doing… I couldn’t stay silent. You deserved to know.”
I wiped my eyes, trying to compose myself. “Thank you.”
An upset woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
That night, I said nothing to Kyle.
I sat through dinner, listening to his usual stories about “difficult procedures” and “promising results.”
But the next morning, I took action.
I called his office and told them he was well enough to return to work.
Then, I went to the bank and froze our joint account. With the remaining money, I paid off our mortgage and opened a new account in my name.
A woman walking on a street | Source: Pexels
When I was done, I sent Kyle a text.
It read, Kyle, treat your vanity and your cruelty — that’s your real illness. Don’t bother coming home.
Then, I packed my things, changed the front door lock, and took the boys with me to my parents’ place. I didn’t want to see Kyle’s face again.
He tried calling me for weeks, but I didn’t talk to him. Instead, I filed for divorce, and now I’m waiting for it to be processed so I can get rid of the man who betrayed me in a way that I could’ve never imagined.
A young woman | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: They say secrets can destroy a marriage. When I discovered my husband had secretly bought a second house, I braced myself for the worst. But nothing could prepare me for what I found when I drove there. I ended up crying at the sight, and there was nothing that could console me.
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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