His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he seemed to drift off during our conversations, especially when we talked about the baby.
“Maybe he’s just stressed about work,” I reassured myself, pushing away the nagging doubt that had been creeping in. Yet, that night, as we sat down for dinner, I knew I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
“Ethan, are you okay?” I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil I felt inside.
He looked up, startled as if pulled from some deep thought.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, his tone unconvincing. He shifted in his seat and looked away, his hands fidgeting with the napkin in his lap.
“Are you sure? You’ve seemed… distracted lately,” I pressed gently, reaching for his hand.
He sighed, squeezing my hand briefly before pulling away.
“It’s just work. They’re being tough about the paternity leave. I talked to my boss, and he’s not very supportive. He’s hinted that if I take the leave, I could lose my job.”
The words hung in the air, and I felt like I had been doused with cold water. Lose his job? That wasn’t what we had planned for! We needed his income, especially now!
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I didn’t want to stress you out,” he replied, his gaze dropping to the table. “I thought I could figure it out.”
A knot tightened in my chest. Why did it feel like there was more he wasn’t saying? But I forced myself to smile, trying to be supportive.
“We’ll get through it, my love. We always do.”
He gave me a small, strained smile in return, but it did little to ease my worry. As I cleared the dishes, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.
The following week, I found myself at the grocery store, my mind still tangled with worry. I wandered the aisles aimlessly, unsure what to buy or even what we needed. It felt like my life was spinning out of control, and I was grasping at straws to hold it together.
“Sarah! Is that you?” a familiar voice suddenly called out, bursting my bubble of stress.
I turned to see Amanda, Ethan’s boss’s wife, pushing a cart down the aisle. Amanda had always been cheerful and outgoing, her smile lighting up any room she entered. We’d known each other since university, and though we weren’t close friends, we shared a casual camaraderie.
“Amanda, hi!” I greeted her with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. “It’s good to see you!”
“How are YOU holding up girl?” Amanda asked, her gaze flickering briefly to my belly. “And how’s that precious baby bundle coming along?”
“We’re doing fine,” I replied, though the lie tasted bitter. “Just a little stressed. Ethan’s been having trouble with his paternity leave.”
Amanda frowned, genuine confusion crossing her face.
“Trouble? I thought Ethan’s leave was approved without any issues. My husband even mentioned how happy he was for him to take some time off to be with you.”
The words were like a punch to my gut.
I stared at Amanda, my mind racing. “Are you sure?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling slightly.
“Absolutely! Hubby thought it was great for Ethan to take the leave, especially now. It’s all been sorted out.”
A cold sense of dread washed over me. Why would my husband lie about something like that? What was he hiding?
“Um, thanks, Amanda,” I muttered quickly, forcing another smile. “I really need to get going.”
I hurried through the rest of my shopping, my thoughts a chaotic mess of confusion and fear. Back home, I paced the kitchen, replaying the conversation over and over in my head. If Ethan’s leave had been approved, why would he say otherwise?
Then my eyes landed on his phone, left carelessly on the kitchen counter as he took a shower. My heart pounded as I picked it up. I hesitated, guilt gnawing at me. But the need for answers overpowered my hesitation.
I immediately opened his family chat, scrolling through messages, each one like a dagger to my heart. My instincts had told me his parents, who didn’t quite approve of me, were involved in all of this and I was right.
In a recent conversation, Ethan’s mom had texted, “Ethan, you really don’t need to take time off for the baby. Sarah’s mom can help. We need you here for the renovations.”
His dad replied, “Exactly. It’s not like you’ll be far away. You can come home on weekends.”
Ethan responded “I know. I’ll take the leave and come over to help. Sarah will understand.”
My breath caught in my throat.
He was planning to take paternity leave, not to be with me and our baby, but to help his parents with house renovations? I felt the world around me shatter.
My mind spun with disbelief, anger, and heartbreak. How could he do this to me, to our unborn child? I had imagined sharing this precious time together, but he had chosen his parents over his family. Tears blurred my vision as I quickly took pictures of the messages for proof.
Later, we had dinner together, and I pretended nothing was wrong as I made my mental plan.
By the time Ethan came home the following evening, I had already made up my mind. I decided I couldn’t stay with someone who would betray my trust so easily, especially at a time when we should be united.
“I got fired,” he announced to the empty house as soon as he arrived. My mother told me later that’s what his mom told her.
He looked around the house, noticing my absence. Then, his eyes fell on the envelope I had left on the kitchen table, addressed to him in my handwriting.
With trembling hands, he opened the letter and read the words that would seal our fate.
Ethan,
I found the messages from your parents. You lied to me about the paternity leave. If you can lie about something so important, how can I trust you with our future? I need honesty, especially now. I’m leaving because I deserve better, and so does our baby.
I’ve sent the pictures of your messages to your boss, and that’s why you were fired. I cannot stay with someone who would betray me like this, especially at a time when we should be united. I’m going to file for divorce.
Goodbye,
Sarah.
Ethan stood there, stunned and broken, staring at the letter. He had lost everything: his job, his wife, and the chance to be a present father in his child’s life, all because of his lies and choices.
I, on the other hand, knew I had made the right decision. As I sat in my parents’ living room, holding my growing belly, I realized that the future I had imagined with Ethan was gone. But I also knew I had to be strong for my baby and myself. It was time to start a new chapter, one built on truth and integrity.
Sacrificing for Our Baby
Growing up, I was a troubled teenager, the kind who made people shake their heads and mutter that I’d never amount to anything. But I found solace in studying the brain, understanding how it works, and what makes us tick.
Becoming a neurologist helped redeem me. It was a way to prove to myself and everyone else that I could do something meaningful. For years, the satisfaction of helping people gave me purpose. Yet, it wasn’t just the work itself that fulfilled me; it was the life I built around it… a life with my husband.
When we first got married, I was the breadwinner, and James supported me in every way possible. My husband of four years worked in marketing, earning significantly less than I did, but we never let money define our roles or our happiness.
From the very beginning, he and I had agreed that having children wasn’t a priority for us. If we were ever to consider kids, adoption was the preferred route. Biological children? I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic either. I liked my life the way it was: predictable, structured, and driven by my career.
But everything changed the day his best friend had a baby boy.
I still remember the moment James held that tiny bundle of joy for the first time. His entire demeanor softened, and his eyes filled with a tenderness I’d never seen before.
He suddenly started talking about having a child of our own, painting this picture of a life I’d never envisioned for myself. I tried to brush it off, telling myself it was just a phase, but life decided for us when I unexpectedly found out I was pregnant.
“What do we do now?” I asked him that evening, clutching the positive pregnancy test in one hand and my composure in the other.
“Let’s keep it! We’ll make it work,” he replied without hesitation, squeezing my hand reassuringly.
And so, despite my reservations, I agreed.
We came to a compromise: My husband would quit his job and become a stay-at-home dad once the baby arrived, allowing me to continue pursuing my demanding career. It seemed like a logical plan; a perfect balance between parenthood and professional aspirations. But I was so wrong…
When our daughter, Lily, was born, everything shifted.
The moment I held her, I knew I’d never regret having her. Yet, a part of me was still desperate to hold on to the life I’d carefully built before her arrival. Soon, my short maternity leave came to an end, and I found myself booked for a medical conference out of state.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I asked James before leaving. He stood in the doorway, cradling Lily with that same tender look he had the first time he held her.
“Don’t worry, Rachel. We’ll be fine. You just focus on your work, okay?”
“Call me if you need anything,” I insisted, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.
My husband smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I will.”
But when I returned from the conference, everything felt different. James was distant, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something darker and more strained.
“Hey, how was the conference?” he asked, his gaze fixated on a spot somewhere beyond me.
“Good,” I replied cautiously. “How’s everything here?”
He shrugged, his face a mask of indifference. “Fine. Just… tired, I guess.”
Alarm bells rang in my head. “Tired?” I echoed. “What’s going on, babe?”
He hesitated, then spoke quietly, his voice tinged with something I hadn’t heard before; fear.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Rachel.”
“Do what?” I asked, though I already knew where this was heading.
“THIS… staying home with Lily. I feel trapped. Overwhelmed.”
His confession hit me like a sledgehammer!
“You said you could handle it. You agreed to this!”
“I know, but it’s harder than I thought. I’m not cut out for this,” he moaned.
“So, what are you suggesting? That I give up my career? Extend my maternity leave?”
“No, I just… maybe we could look into daycare?” he replied.
“Daycare?” I stared at him in disbelief. “We talked about this. We agreed that I’d go back to work and you’d stay home with Lily.”
“I know, but…”
“I made sacrifices, James!” My voice rose in frustration. “I pushed myself back into work mode for us. You knew how important this was for me!”
“And I made sacrifices too!” he shot back, his voice breaking. “I quit my job, Rachel. My career is gone.”
Silence fell between us, thick and suffocating. Lily’s soft cries echoed from the nursery, and my husband glanced over his shoulder like a man about to shatter.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I just need help.”
For the first time since Lily’s birth, I realized the depth of his struggle. I wasn’t the only one fighting to keep everything together. But I still couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal. James had promised, and now he wanted to back out?
The next few days were a blur of strained conversations and forced smiles. We barely spoke, each of us retreating into our separate worlds. I spent more time at work, and he spent more time avoiding eye contact.
Finally, one evening, after putting Lily to bed, I sat down beside him on the couch.
“We need to figure this out, James.”
He nodded, though he didn’t meet my gaze. “Yeah, I know.”
“This isn’t working. We’re both miserable, and our daughter deserves better.”
“What do you want me to do, Rachel?” he snapped, frustration leaking into his voice. “I’m doing my best here.”
“Maybe we need help,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Maybe we rushed into this.”
“What are you saying?” His voice cracked. “You regret having Lily?”
“No! But I regret that we’re failing her.”
He looked away, pain etched into his features. “So, what do we do?”
“I’ve hired a nanny.”
His head whipped around, disbelief flooding his eyes. “What? A nanny? We can’t afford that!”
“Yes, we can,” I said firmly. “You’ll start working from home again, and all your income will go toward paying her. We’ll find a way.”
The argument that followed was heated, but I stood my ground. My husband wanted to be there for Lily, but he needed help. And if I couldn’t be there, then I’d make sure someone else was.
Claire, our new nanny, started the following Monday. She was a godsend. She was calm, experienced, and exactly what James needed. Slowly, he began to find his footing again. The tension in our home eased, and for the first time since our daughter’s birth, there was a sense of peace.
One evening, as I watched James feed Lily with a gentle smile on his face, I knew I’d made the right decision. Maybe things would never be perfect, but we were finding a new normal.
“I’m sorry,” he said one night, his voice low and sincere. “I should’ve been more supportive.”
“I’m sorry too,” I whispered back. “I should’ve listened and communicated my plans more.”
It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a start. We were learning to navigate this new life together, one day at a time. As we sat on the porch that evening, watching the stars twinkle above us, I felt a glimmer of hope.
We still had a long way to go, but as long as we faced it together, I knew we could make it work.
The Secret Behind the Sale
The golden light of the setting sun bathed the porch in a soft glow, and I swayed gently on the swing, listening to the rhythmic creak of its chains. Mark stood before me, his eyes filled with a familiar intensity.
“We need more space if we want to start a family, Layla. This place is just too small,” he said, his voice tinged with an earnestness that tugged at my heart.
Little did I know that conversation would change the trajectory of my life.
I glanced around, taking in the cozy house and its blooming garden, framed by the white picket fence that my parents had installed for us. This house was more than just a home; it was a gift from my parents when we married a year ago, a symbol of their love and support for our new life together.
“But Mark, this house is perfect,” I replied softly, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving it behind. “My parents were so generous with this gift.”
My husband sighed and sat down beside me on the swing, his presence comforting yet somehow distant. He took my hand, his fingers warm against my cool skin.
“I know, sweetheart. But think about the future. A bigger house means more room for a nursery and a backyard for our child or children to play in. It’s a step forward, a step toward the life we’ve been dreaming about.”
His words painted a beautiful picture; one filled with laughter, late-night feedings, and watching our children take their first steps in a spacious, sunlit room. But as enchanting as it sounded, something about it didn’t sit right with me.
I looked around at the roses we had planted together, the cozy living room where we spent countless evenings curled up on the couch, and the kitchen where we cooked our first meal as husband and wife.
Could I really leave all this behind?
“Are you sure this is what we need to do?” I asked, searching his face for any hint of hesitation, any sign that he, too, was struggling with this decision.
But my husband’s gaze was steady, unwavering.
“I know it’s hard, my angel. But we’ll create new memories in the new house. It’ll be our home, where we’ll raise our children and build our future together.”
I knew he was right, or at least, I wanted to believe he was. I trusted Mark and his vision for our future. If moving to a bigger house was what he thought we needed, then I would follow him, no matter how difficult it was to let go.
“Alright,” I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat. “We’ll sell the house… for our future.”
Mark’s smile was radiant, his relief palpable. He pulled me into a tight embrace, his lips brushing against my hair.
“Thank you, my love. I promise you, it’ll be worth it!”
I agreed with a heavy heart.
Within weeks, our cozy little house was on the market, and buyers were lining up. I couldn’t shake the sense of loss that lingered, but Mark’s enthusiasm and optimism kept me from voicing my doubts.
He assured me we would find the perfect home, one that I would fall in love with just as much as this one.
“It’s the right decision, Lay. You’ll see, it’s for the best,” he said, sealing another moving box with tape.
I nodded, even though my heart felt as if it were being squeezed.
The living room, now filled with boxes labeled “Kitchen,” “Books,” and “Decor,” seemed foreign, stripped of its warmth and familiarity. We were set to move out the following day, staying with Mark’s parents for a few days until he revealed the “surprise” of our new home.
Everything felt rushed, but I pushed my concerns aside. My husband knew what he was doing… or so I thought.
That’s when my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.
“Hey, Layla. I heard you guys sold the house. I’m so happy Mark finally confessed to you. You deserve to know the truth,” the stranger texted.
I stared at the screen, confusion swirling in my mind. Confessed? What truth?
My fingers trembled as I typed back, “Who is this? What confession?”
A few moments later, my phone buzzed again.
“Ummm… It’s Candice, Mark’s ex. Oh, so he didn’t… YOU NEED TO CHECK THE ATTIC.”
Candice? Mark’s ex? My heart raced as a sense of dread washed over me. Why would she be reaching out now? And what could possibly be in the attic that she felt the need to warn me about?
The attic door creaked as I slowly pushed it open, revealing a dusty, dimly lit space filled with old boxes and forgotten items. I hesitated, fear and curiosity battling within me.
What could be up here?
I began searching through the boxes, my heart pounding harder with each breath.
After what felt like an eternity, I spotted a small wooden chest tucked away in the corner, partially hidden beneath a stack of old blankets. I hadn’t noticed it before.
As colegas de quarto da minha filha tratavam os pertences dela como lixo — eu intervim para trazê-los de volta à Terra
Quando a filha de Sandra, Abigail, liga para ela, ela ouve tudo sobre como a situação de vida de Abby está deixando-a tudo, menos feliz. Então, ela decide entrar no modo mãe e salvar o dia para sua filha e suas amigas.
Nunca vou esquecer o dia em que minha filha, Abigail, me ligou. A voz da pobre garota tremia de frustração.
Uma mulher segurando seu telefone | Fonte: Midjourney
“Mãe, é um pesadelo. Tudo isso é só um pesadelo!” ela exclamou.
“O que está acontecendo?”, perguntei, de repente cedendo ao instinto materno. “Conte-me tudo e fale devagar, querida.”
Uma jovem mulher ao telefone | Fonte: Midjourney
“Minhas colegas de quarto!” ela gritou. “Os namorados delas são mais do que ridículos. Você quer saber o que elas fizeram ontem? Os namorados delas pararam minha carga de roupa para lavar, tiraram todas as minhas roupas, jogaram a bagunça molhada no chão e começaram a lavar a própria carga delas!”
“O quê?” exclamei, minha raiva aumentando.
Uma cesta com roupa para lavar | Fonte: Midjourney
“E tem mais, é claro”, ela disse. “Eles comem nossa comida e deixam pratos sujos em todo lugar. E você sabe o quão frio tem estado ultimamente? Bem, adivinha quem tem tomado banho frio! Eles sempre usam toda a água quente. E para piorar, eles pararam de contribuir para o fundo de lanches compartilhados.”
“Oh, querida,” eu disse, tentando acalmá-la. “Sinto muito, mas nós vamos resolver isso.”
Louça suja | Fonte: Midjourney
Minha filha suspirou profundamente antes de murmurar seu adeus.
Eu sabia que tínhamos que ser inteligentes nessa situação. Havia muitas maneiras pelas quais as colegas de quarto de Abby, Ella e Danielle, poderiam tornar a vida dela ainda pior.
Um grupo de meninas | Fonte: Midjourney
Mas quando descobri que duas das meninas sentiam o mesmo em relação aos namorados, ficou mais fácil lidar com a situação horrível.
“Por favor, Sra. Landon,” Ella disse. “Apenas nos ajude a lidar com isso porque não podemos mais viver.”
Uma jovem chateada | Fonte: Midjourney
Sabendo que três das cinco colegas de quarto estavam na mesma página, eu sabia que só precisávamos lidar com Tess e Rachel, as duas meninas que trouxeram esses meninos para a vida da minha filha.
Confrontar essas meninas provavelmente levaria a mais drama e a um ambiente tóxico para Abby e suas amigas lidarem. Mas tínhamos que tentar. Eu sabia que não havia outra opção.
Uma mulher preocupada | Fonte: Midjourney
Felizmente, o contrato de locação da casa compartilhada de Abby estava chegando ao fim, pois o ano universitário também estava chegando ao fim. Rachel e Tess decidiram que celebrariam o fim indo acampar com seus namorados.
“É isso, mãe”, disse Abby. “Este é o momento em que podemos fazer o que for preciso. Eles vão embora na sexta-feira e só devem voltar no domingo à noite.”
Pessoas em um acampamento | Fonte: Midjourney
Enquanto eles estavam fora, Abby, Danielle, Ella e eu começamos a trabalhar.
“Certo, meninas”, eu disse, quando as conheci em um restaurante no começo da semana. “Vamos dar uma lição em suas colegas de quarto e seus namorados. Vocês não podem esperar viver nessas condições, e eu vou dar um fim nisso.”
O interior de um restaurante | Fonte: Midjourney
“Obrigada, Sra. Landon”, disse Ella. “Quando falei com meus pais sobre a situação, eles apenas me disseram para lidar com isso da melhor maneira que eu pudesse. Isso não ajudou em nada.”
“E meus pais me disseram para não dizer absolutamente nada!” Danielle entrou na conversa. “Eles disseram que melhoraria com o tempo.”
Uma pessoa sentada à mesa | Fonte: Midjourney
“Não, estou aqui agora e estou ouvindo vocês três”, eu disse enquanto nossos milkshakes chegavam. “Nós vamos consertar isso. Eu prometo a vocês.”
Quando os casais estavam fora, nós mudávamos todas as coisas deles para fora. Tudo, desde os móveis da sala de estar, pratos, talheres, utensílios de cozinha, recipientes de plástico, suprimentos de panificação e muito mais.
Caixas de papelão empilhadas | Fonte: Midjourney
“Infelizmente, a cortina do chuveiro pertence a Tess”, disse Abby, enquanto a removia. “Então ela também tem que ir embora.”
“E a vassoura e a pá de lixo mais novas”, Danielle entrou na conversa. “Elas ainda são novas porque Tess mal as usou.”
Uma pessoa usando uma vassoura e uma pá de lixo | Fonte: Pexels
“Bom,” eu disse, encorajando o comportamento deles. “O que for preciso ir, jogue em caixas.”
“Mãe, os dois não contribuem para nenhum suprimento doméstico compartilhado há meses”, disse Abby. “Você sabe, todos os detergentes e papel higiênico e tudo mais.”
Então, decidimos que, como Rachel e Tess não tinham contribuído, elas não tinham absolutamente nenhum direito aos suprimentos.
Detergentes em uma mesa | Fonte: Pexels
“Eu tenho um armário na garagem que tranca”, eu disse. “Ele pode funcionar bem em um banheiro ou até mesmo em uma copa. Vou trazê-lo e vamos usá-lo, ok?”
Voltei para casa e troquei de carro com meu marido, pegando a van para poder levar o armário de volta para as meninas.
Um close-up de um caminhão | Midjourney
Também embalamos todo o papel higiênico, toalhas de papel, detergentes para louça e sabão em pó.
“Quando você precisar dessas coisas,” eu disse, guardando o sabão em pó. “Você pode destrancá-lo e usá-lo no seu tempo.”
Um armário com detergentes e produtos de higiene pessoal | Fonte: Midjourney
Abby me disse que quando os casais retornaram, eles ficaram extremamente chocados.
“Você deveria ter visto a cara deles”, ela exclamou alegremente.
Acontece que quando eles viram tudo acabado, eles estavam perdendo a cabeça. E para piorar ainda mais as coisas (ou melhorar para nós), Rachel, Tess e seus namorados tiveram intoxicação alimentar na viagem e estavam se sentindo particularmente miseráveis.
Uma jovem mulher nada impressionada | Fonte: Midjourney
“Vou encaminhar todas as mensagens de texto deles para você, mãe”, disse Abby, rindo do outro lado da linha.
Momentos depois, meu telefone vibrou com mensagens mordazes.
Um close-up de um telefone | Fonte: Midjourney
Como você pôde fazer isso conosco? Nós voltamos de uma viagem, doentes e exaustos, apenas para descobrir que tudo se foi?
Onde estão nossos pertences?
Você colocou seus pertences no quintal?! Como pôde?
Uma caixa do lado de fora | Fonte: Midjourney
E vocês também levaram todos os itens domésticos compartilhados! O papel higiênico?! Estamos com intoxicação alimentar!
Eu ri sozinho enquanto minha filha me encaminhava essas mensagens.
A raiva e a confusão deles eram palpáveis por meio de suas mensagens. E eles exigiam saber por que não tinham sido avisados.
Uma mulher mais velha rindo | Fonte: Midjourney
Minha filha, agora calma e serena porque estava no controle da situação, respondeu calmamente:
Você estava acampando. Provavelmente você só não tinha sinal para receber nossas mensagens. Desculpe, não desculpe.
Nos dias que se seguiram, Tess e Rachel pareceram perceber a gravidade da situação. Sem Abigail, Ella e Danielle, elas realmente não tinham nada em casa.
Uma garota mandando mensagem | Fonte: Midjourney
Cada item que eles pegaram era essencial para seu estilo de vida diário.
Por fim, os aproveitadores não tiveram outra escolha a não ser fazer as malas com seus pertences mínimos e ir embora ainda mais cedo do que o planejado.
“Mãe, você nunca acreditaria”, Abby me disse quando nos encontramos para tomar café.
Um interior de uma cafeteria | Fonte: Midjourney
“O quê, querida?”, perguntei.
“As meninas foram morar com os namorados!”, ela disse, olhando o menu.
“De jeito nenhum!”, exclamei, imaginando como aqueles quatro iriam sobreviver sozinhos.
Uma garota sentada em uma cafeteria | Fonte: Midjourney
“Sim! Dani esbarrou com Tess no mercado outro dia e viu as quatro tentando fazer compras. Ela disse que Rachel e Tess pareciam exaustas e além de irritadas.”
“Bem feito para eles”, eu disse, adicionando uma colher de açúcar no meu café. “Eles precisavam provar o próprio remédio. Aqueles garotos provavelmente estão fazendo uma confusão em casa. E aquelas garotas estão finalmente abrindo os olhos para a realidade da situação.”
Um close-up de uma xícara de café | Fonte: Midjourney
“Eu só queria que eles saíssem das nossas vidas, mãe”, disse Abby. “Já era hora.”
“E quanto à renovação do contrato de locação?”, perguntei. Abby ainda tinha dois semestres antes da formatura.
“Nós vamos fazer isso”, ela disse, comendo sua fatia de bolo. “Os primos gêmeos da Dani estão ficando com os outros dois quartos, e eu os conheci, então sei que todos nós seremos uma boa combinação!”
Duas mulheres sorridentes | Fonte: Midjourney
Nosso plano funcionou perfeitamente, ensinando a Rachel e Tess uma dura lição sobre respeito e contribuição. Foi um delicioso momento de vingança, colocando-as de volta em seu lugar.
Mas o mais importante é que as meninas finalmente puderam ter sua casa de volta e aproveitar em paz, livres das colegas de quarto arrogantes e desrespeitosas que tornaram suas vidas miseráveis.
Uma mulher mais velha sorridente | Fonte: Midjourney
O que você teria feito?
Se você gostou desta história, aqui vai outra para você |
Padrasto me entregou um recém-nascido para cuidar dele – Levei o maior susto da minha vida quando troquei a fralda do bebê
Quando o padrasto de Ellie aleatoriamente lhe dá um bebê recém-nascido para cuidar, ela não tem ideia de quem é o bebê ou de onde veio. Mas quando ela tem que trocar a fralda do bebê, Ellie encontra um nome e um endereço. Com o bebê a tiracolo, ela vai até o endereço para descobrir a verdade sobre a criança e seu padrasto.
Nunca imaginei que um cobertor pudesse revelar tanto, mas quando agarrei o tecido macio com um nome e endereço rabiscados na borda, meu mundo mergulhou em mais incerteza do que eu já havia experimentado antes.
Um pequeno pé sob um cobertor rosa | Fonte: Pexels
Até agora, minha vida tem sido uma série de surpresas — desde meu pai nos deixando quando eu tinha cerca de três anos até minha mãe se casar novamente com William, um homem de poucas palavras, mas de profunda gentileza que mudou minha vida.
Quando minha mãe morreu, o vazio deixado para trás foi outra coisa. Eu estava no meio do ensino médio e ainda navegando pela minha dor.
Flores em um caixão | Fonte: Unsplash
Mas meu padrasto me comprou cadernos para anotar meus sentimentos e sentou-se comigo em silêncio enquanto ouvíamos músicas que ambos amávamos.
Com isso, nós dois nos curamos.
Cadernos e canetas | Fonte: Pexels
“Iremos ao túmulo da mamãe toda semana, Ellie”, ele me prometeu um dia, enquanto comíamos macarrão na sala de estar enquanto assistíamos TV.
“Eu não tinha muito antes de conhecer sua mãe, mas então eu ganhei você, e tudo mudou. Eu me tornei pai.”
Flores em um túmulo | Fonte: Pexels
Eu sorri para ele. Lembrei-me dos primeiros dias quando William se mudou, suas caixas enfileiradas pela casa enquanto minha mãe tentava abrir espaço para ele — misturando todas as nossas coisas em uma grande família.
Mas era feriado antes de eu me preparar para ir para a faculdade, e meu padrasto entrou em casa, me entregando um recém-nascido sem nenhuma explicação. Ele colocou o bebê em meus braços.
Um homem carregando uma caixa | Fonte: Pexels
“Ellie”, ele disse, franzindo profundamente as sobrancelhas enquanto se sentava no sofá, com a cabeça entre as mãos.
“Você pode cuidar dela por apenas alguns dias?”, ele perguntou em seu tom reservado de sempre, evitando meu olhar enquanto se preparava para sair para o trabalho novamente.
“Espere!”, gritei, completamente confuso sobre o que estava acontecendo.
Este trabalho é inspirado em eventos e pessoas reais, mas foi ficcionalizado para fins criativos. Nomes, personagens e detalhes foram alterados para proteger a privacidade e melhorar a narrativa. Qualquer semelhança com pessoas reais, vivas ou mortas, ou eventos reais é mera coincidência e não intencional do autor.
O autor e a editora não fazem nenhuma reivindicação quanto à precisão dos eventos ou à representação dos personagens e não são responsáveis por nenhuma interpretação errônea. Esta história é fornecida “como está”, e quaisquer opiniões expressas são as dos personagens e não refletem as opiniões do autor ou da editora.
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