Meeting my fiancé’s parents should have been exciting, but nothing prepared me for the tension and judgment that followed. Between the quiet stares, sharp words, and unexpected secrets, the evening turned into a whirlwind I’ll never forget.
Mark and I had been together for about a year, and just recently, he proposed. It wasn’t the dreamy, candlelit proposal I had imagined as a little girl, but it was heartfelt, and I knew it came from a place of love.
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Besides, Mark and I would’ve ended up engaged anyway—it was just a matter of timing.
He proposed shortly after we found out I was pregnant. The pregnancy wasn’t planned, but the moment we saw those two little lines, everything changed. We were thrilled, nervous, and ready to tackle parenthood together.
That evening, we had dinner plans with Mark’s parents, and I was a bundle of nerves.
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Mark always described them as strict and traditional, which made me feel like I was stepping into an interview instead of a family meal.
Still, I told myself I could win them over. I’d always been good at making people like me—or so I hoped.
When Mark got home from work, I immediately began rifling through my closet.
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I must have tried on ten outfits, spinning in front of the mirror, asking, “Is this okay?”
Each time, Mark smiled and said, “You look great.”
But “great” wasn’t enough. I needed to look flawless. First impressions were everything.
In the end, I laughed at myself, realizing I had chosen the very first outfit I’d tried on.
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“Do you think they’ll like me?” I asked, twisting my hair into place.
“Of course, they’ll like you. How could they not?” Mark said, watching me in the mirror.
“But what if they don’t?” I asked, turning to face him.
“Then it doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice calm. “The only thing that matters is that I like you.”
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“Like?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.
Mark smirked. “I like you more than anyone. I love you even more.”
I laughed softly. “Good save.”
Mark leaned in and kissed me, his grin warm and reassuring. “You’ll be perfect.”
Once we were ready, I carefully picked up the cherry pie I had baked for the dinner.
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The warm, sweet scent was comforting, like a small reminder that I had put effort into tonight. Mark opened the car door for me, and we both climbed in.
During the drive to his parents’ house, I couldn’t help but notice Mark gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.
His jaw was set, and his eyes focused straight ahead. “Are you okay?” I asked softly.
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“Yeah,” he said, but his voice wavered. I reached over, taking his hand. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to calm him or myself.
When we pulled up in front of the house, Mark sighed and looked at me. “Just… don’t say anything unnecessary, okay?”
“I won’t,” I promised.
We walked to the door, hearts pounding, and Mark rang the bell. A moment later, his mother appeared.
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“Hi, we’ve been waiting for you,” she said, her tone sharp but polite. “I’m Erin, though I assume you already know that,” she added, her eyes fixed on me.
“Yes, I’m Danica,” I replied, forcing a smile as I held out the pie. “I baked a cherry pie. Mark told me it’s your favorite.”
Erin’s face changed instantly, her smile fading. “A pie, hmm? I thought the host was supposed to handle the food. Or do you think I can’t bake my own pie?”
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“No, of course not!” I said quickly. “I just wanted to bring something special. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
She looked at the pie, then back at me. “It’s fine. Come in,” she said, stepping aside without another word.
Dinner was painfully quiet. The only sounds were the clinking of silverware and the occasional scrape of a chair.
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Mark had warned me his family didn’t talk during meals, but I thought he was joking.
Sitting there in silence felt awkward and unnatural. I glanced at Mark, but he just gave me a small, reassuring smile.
When we finished eating, I stood up to help Erin clear the table. She didn’t say much, just nodded and muttered a quick “thank you.”
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We moved to the living room, where Mark’s father, George, sat stiffly, barely looking at me.
He seemed uninterested, like I was a guest he didn’t ask for. Conversation turned to the wedding, but I had little to share.
“What kind of dress are you thinking of?” Erin asked, her eyes scanning me like she was already judging my answer.
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Before I could respond, George spoke up. “Erin, leave the girl alone. You’ve been bombarding her with questions all evening.” His tone was gruff, but it was the first time he had addressed me.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” I said, offering a small smile, though my nerves were fraying.
“See, George? She doesn’t mind,” Erin said, smiling back at me for the first time. It felt almost like approval, and I let out a small breath of relief.
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I looked at Mark and smiled, taking his hand. His touch grounded me. But the warmth of the moment vanished as Erin’s smile hardened.
“Danica, dear, in our family, we don’t show affection in front of others, especially before marriage,” she said, her tone sharp.
I dropped Mark’s hand like it was on fire. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, embarrassed.
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“So,” Erin continued, her focus shifting back to me, “what kind of dress do you want? You have such a lovely figure. Something fitted and long would suit you perfectly.”
I hesitated, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Well, I won’t have this figure for long. I’ll be five months along by the wedding, so I was thinking of something more flowing.”
Mark groaned softly and buried his face in his hands. My stomach dropped.
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“Five months along?” Erin’s voice was clipped, her eyebrow arched in disbelief.
I nodded. “Pregnant,” I said simply.
The room felt like it froze. Erin gasped, clutching her chest like I had just confessed to a crime. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “What a disgrace! My son is going to have a child out of wedlock!”
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I blinked, stunned. “Excuse me, what?”
“This is shameful! You’re a disgrace to our family! How could you do such a thing before marriage?” Erin shouted, her voice rising with each word.
“We’re adults,” I said, trying to stay calm. “We’re excited about this baby—”
“Danica, stop talking,” Mark muttered under his breath.
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“How could you choose such a shameless fiancée?” Erin yelled at Mark. “She must have seduced you!”
“Erin, stop yelling at her. She’s pregnant,” George said, his voice cutting through her tirade.
“That’s the problem! What will people say?” Erin wailed. “Get out of my house! I don’t want to see you again!”
Tears spilled over as I stammered, “What did I do? I don’t understand…”
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“You and your illegitimate child are a stain on this family!” Erin spat. “Maybe it’s not too late for an abortion?”
I gasped. “What? What are you saying?” I cried, choking on my tears. Mark stayed silent, his face unreadable.
“Danica, let’s go,” Mark finally said, grabbing my hand.
Outside, his frustration boiled over. “What was that?!” he yelled at me.
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“I should be asking you that!” I shot back, my voice shaking.
“I told you not to say anything unnecessary!” he snapped.
“I didn’t know our child was ‘unnecessary’ to you!” I yelled.
“Not to me—to them,” he replied sharply.
“You said their opinions didn’t matter!” I cried, shaking my head.
“I warned you they were conservative,” he said, his voice flat.
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I looked at him, my heart breaking. “I’m staying at my place tonight,” I said, my tone firm, before turning away.
I still had a month left on the lease for my old apartment, so Mark drove me there. The ride was silent, tense.
When he pulled up, I stepped out without a word. Once inside, I sat on the couch, tears streaming down my face.
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My chest ached as I replayed the dinner over and over. Mark hadn’t defended me or our baby.
How could he let his mother say those things? My thoughts spiraled, and I placed a hand on my stomach, wondering if all this stress was hurting the baby.
The next morning, a firm knock startled me awake. Groggy, I shuffled to the door and opened it. George stood there, his expression unreadable.
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“How are you?” George asked, his voice calm but firm.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped, crossing my arms.
“I came to apologize for Erin,” he said, glancing down briefly. “She can be… overly emotional.”
I hesitated, then stepped back. “Would you like to come in?”
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“No, I won’t stay long,” he replied, shaking his head. “I just wanted to explain. This is personal for her. Her parents were very conservative, even more than she is. When we got married, she was already pregnant with Mark.”
I stared at him, stunned. “What? Then why did she react so negatively to me being pregnant?”
George sighed, shifting uncomfortably. “She has always felt ashamed of it. She thinks we should have waited. She doesn’t regret having Mark, but it’s something she struggles with. I wanted you to know.”
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I frowned, still hurt but trying to understand. “That’s why she treated me like that? To protect some old-fashioned idea of pride?”
George nodded. “Yes. You can share this with Mark or even tell Erin’s relatives if she keeps making a fuss.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I said softly. “I don’t want her to feel as hurt as I do now.”
George gave me a small nod, then turned to leave.
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After he left, I decided to return to Mark. But as I stepped outside, I froze. He was standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers.
“I’m sorry,” Mark said, looking right at me. “I should have stood up for you and the baby. I didn’t know what to do, and I was scared.”
“Thank you for apologizing. It hurt so much,” I admitted.
“It won’t happen again. I promise, I’ll always be on your side,” he said, his voice steady.
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I nodded, a small smile breaking through. “Thank you.”
Mark leaned in, and I kissed him.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He stepped aside to answer it.
“It was my mom,” he said when he came back. “She wants to apologize. She asked what your favorite pie is.”
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I smiled faintly. “Tell her I love cherry pie too.”
Mark grinned. “Looks like you already have something in common.”
“You have no idea,” I whispered, letting him pull me into a warm hug.
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Newborn Baby Cries All Day No Matter What Parents Do, after a While They Check His Crib – Story of the Day
Walter returns home from work to find his baby son crying. His wife has tried everything to quiet their son, but nothing works. Walter decides to check the crib and is shocked by what he finds there.
An ear-splitting wail echoed through the house as Walter entered from the garage. His wife, Abby, sat in the kitchen, and by the distressed look on her face, he knew Logan’s cries were bothering her again.
“Oh, honey,” he says and hugs her from behind. “How long has he been crying like that?”
“I’ve tried everything, Walter!” Abby broke down into sobs. “He’s been fed, changed, bathed, and burped! I even took his temperature! I don’t know what to do now. He keeps crying!”
After becoming parents a month ago, everything in the couple’s lives changed. And if there was something that really distressed Walter, it was Logan’s cries.
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“Come, we’ll figure this out together,” Walter said and took Abby to Logan’s room.
He cheerfully approached Logan’s crib. But all he saw in the crib was a dictaphone and a note. Walter pressed the stop button on the dictaphone, and Logan’s cries stopped.
“What did you do?” Abby called from behind. Walter wasn’t listening. He held the note and zoned out. It wasn’t until Abby snatched the note from his hand and opened it that he realized what had occurred.
“I warned you that you’d regret being rude to me.
If you want to see your baby again, leave $200,000 in the luggage storage lockers near the pier.
If you go to the police, you’ll never see him again.”
“Oh my God!” Abby gasped. “What does it mean? Was I rude to someone? Were you? Who would kidnap Logan?”
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Walter recalled the janitor he’d mistreated at the maternity hospital. He was bringing a cute bear-shaped pot for Abby while she was admitted to the hospital, but the pot broke when he tripped over the janitor’s broom.
Furious, Walter called the man awful names, and the janitor said, “You’ll regret it!”
“We’ll have to go to the police, honey,” Walter said, snapping out of his thoughts. “It must be him!”
“What? The note says we’ll never see Logan again if we go to the police, Walter. We should just pay the ransom!”
“We don’t know if he’ll return Logan if we do that. Think about it, honey. This guy is a janitor… there’s no way he’d know if we went to the police, and since we know where he works, they might be able to go straight to the maternity hospital, arrest him, and bring Logan home to us.”
Abby agreed.
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Walter parked their car outside the station. He and Abby were about to exit the vehicle when Walter’s phone buzzed with a message.
“This is your first and last warning. If you enter that police station, your kid’s going into the bay. Get the money to the location mentioned below.”
Abby gasped as she read the message, and Walter looked around, trying to spot the kidnapper. But there were too many people. The only way to rescue Logan now was to pay the ransom.
Walter decided to drive to the bank right away, but Abby’s condition deteriorated. She threw up once and was about to throw up for a second time. It was better to drive her home, Walter decided.
“Don’t hate me for it, honey, but that’s the best for you,” he said. And Abby didn’t protest.
“Fine…But Walter…does that kidnapper even know about caring for a newborn?” she asked and broke down into tears.
Walter said nothing and drove her home. But his imagination wasn’t immune to dark thoughts. He kept imagining Logan in a dark room, crying for help that never came.
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Somehow pulling himself together, Walter drove to the bank. Then he visited the storage locker mentioned by the kidnapper and placed the money inside it.
There were too many people around for him to spot the janitor, but Walter knew he would be somewhere nearby, watching him. So Walter returned to his car, drove a short distance, and parked around the lockers again. It wasn’t long before he spotted the janitor from the maternity hospital.
The janitor opened the locker. Walter sat up straighter, but then a tourist group walked past, hiding the janitor from view.
“Move it!” Walter snapped.
Painful minutes stretched out as the tourists headed toward one of the statues. After the last few people in the group eventually passed the lockers, Walter swore. The janitor had disappeared.
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Walter barely dared to breathe as he scanned the crowd. The man had been wearing the sort of flashy shirt sold in the more eclectic, hippie-themed stores, so he shouldn’t have been hard to spot.
There! A wave of relief washed over him as Walter spotted the janitor crossing the road. He was carrying the bag of money Walter had placed in the locker. Walter leaped from his car and followed him.
The man led him around a parking lot, past a variety of restaurants and several museums before he turned into a bus station. They were heading toward another row of lockers.
The janitor placed the bag inside a locker. When he turned around, Walter was ready. He shoved the janitor up against the lockers and held him there with his forearm.
“Where is my son?” Walter demanded. “I’ve done everything you asked, you jerk; now return Logan to me!”
“Look, I was offered $100 to collect the package and then drop it off here,” the man said. “I don’t know about your son!”
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“Don’t you dare lie!”
“I’m not! Some guy paid me to deliver the package! I ran into him in the parking lot after work one day, but he was standing with the light behind him, so I didn’t see his face. I have two kids of my own. I’d never hurt someone else’s child.”
Something about the janitor’s eyes told Walter the older man wasn’t lying. He let the man go, then opened the locker. But it was empty. Somebody had cut a hole in the back.
Walter jogged around to the back of the lockers. The hole was covered from the back with a thin steel plate, loosely secured by two screws. Nobody around was carrying a bag like the one he’d placed the money into.
Walter didn’t know how to break the news to Abby. Logan was their miracle baby. They’d been struggling for years before they conceived him. And now, he had lost his only chance to get Logan back.
Walter entered his home. He checked all the rooms downstairs but didn’t find Abby anywhere. He went upstairs to check their bedroom and noticed Abby’s things were gone.
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At first, Walter suspected she was kidnapped. He called her. Countless times. But she never answered. Then it dawned on him that the kidnapper wouldn’t have taken all of Abby’s things. Even her hand lotion was missing.
Walter was crushed, to say the least. How could Abby do this to them? No wonder she’d been so eager to return home after feeling sick. She had also insisted they pay the ransom. Abby was Logan’s kidnapper. Did she have an accomplice?
The only thing that consoled Walter’s heart was that the ransom money was fake. He would find a way to get his son back.
Walter drove to the maternity hospital where Logan was born, and near the vending machine, he found the man he was looking for—a doctor.
“Hi,” Walter approached him. “I hope you can help me. I need someone to call my wife—”
“I’m not a phone service,” the doctor replied sharply.
“You don’t understand. I’m willing to pay you handsomely for your assistance, doctor, and your silence.”
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The doctor studied Walter through narrowed eyes. He slowly smiled as Walter explained his situation and told him what he wanted the doctor to tell Abby.
Walter then retrieved his wallet and furtively showed the doctor the dollar bills inside it. The man nodded. “Okay, we have a deal. Come with me!”
Walter followed the doctor to a nurse’s station on the second floor. All the nurses were checking on their patients, judging by the activity in the hallways. Nobody took much notice as the doctor lifted the phone and dialed Abby’s number.
“Good morning, Mrs. Taylor; this is Dr. Jones from the maternity hospital. I’m calling to inform you that we just discovered something very serious in one of the routine tests we performed on your son after he was born. He needs to come in for treatment immediately.”
Walter heard Abby’s emotional outcry from the other side of the nurse’s station but couldn’t make out her exact words.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss the details over the phone. All I can say for now is that he has a rare genetic condition. I’m sure he does seem fine now, but that could change at any moment. He’s at a higher risk for SIDS and several other life-threatening conditions. You really need to bring him in today, Mrs. Taylor.”
Dr. Jones ended the call a few minutes later and showed Walter a thumbs-up.
“She’s going to bring the baby in ASAP.” Dr. Jones held out his hand and wriggled his fingers. “I did my bit. Now it’s time for you to pay up.”
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Walter paid the doctor and went back downstairs. He wandered around for a few minutes before his phone started ringing. His lip curled in disgust when he checked the caller ID.
“You have some nerve to phone me after what you did, Abby,” Walter said. “Where’s Logan? I demand you bring him back.”
“Says the man who doesn’t even care enough about him to pay the ransom!” Abby shrieked. “That money was all fake, you tight-fisted jerk. Logan needs to see a doctor urgently, and I can’t take him because of you. Where’s the real money, Walter?”
“In my account, where it’s been all along. What’s wrong with Logan, or is this just another scheme to get my money?”
Abby swore at him and began to cry. “I told you; he’s sick! You’ve got to send me the money so he can receive treatment. He’ll die without it.”
“I won’t let my son die! I’ll pay,” Walter replied and hung up.
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Hearing Abby confirm she was behind Logan’s kidnapping broke his heart all over again. It took a few minutes before he pulled himself together enough to send her an immediate payment via his money transfer app. Now, all he had to do was wait.
***
Tears trailed down Walter’s cheeks when his little brother, James, entered the hospital with Abby. James held Logan against his chest while Abby spoke to the receptionist.
It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion as the police officers and FBI agents came forward and surrounded Abby and James. Walter had informed the cops beforehand.
“You’re under arrest for kidnapping!” an FBI agent called out. “Hand the child over, nice and slowly, and raise your hands.”
“Get away from us!” Abby shrieked as she moved to stand between the FBI agent and Logan. “My son is sick. He needs to see a doctor.”
“No, he isn’t,” Walter called out as he approached the group. “There’s nothing wrong with Logan at all.”
Abby’s gaze locked onto him. Walter watched as the fear and uncertainty in her eyes shifted into red-hot fury. She rushed forward as though to attack him. But the police tackled her. She and James were arrested.
Walter hugged his son, relieved to have him back. But Abby wasn’t done yet.
“You think you’ve won? Logan isn’t even yours! You couldn’t get me pregnant, remember? But whatever’s wrong with you clearly doesn’t run in the family!” she yelled.
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Walter froze. He looked at his brother, who wouldn’t even raise his head to look at him. It pained Walter. But nothing mattered because he had Logan with him.
“I will adopt him if that’s what I have to do!” he shot back. “I will watch him grow up while you two rot behind bars!” he said and left with Logan.
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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who spots her husband taking his wedding ring off before leaving for work. She decides to follow him, only to discover something shocking.
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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