When Piper returns from a trip with her friends, she cannot wait to get home to her husband. But as she unpacks her car, a neighbor approaches her, complaining about the noise from her apartment. If Piper wasn’t home, who was Matthew entertaining in her absence?
I had just returned from a blissful week-long camping trip with my friends. It was all about us taking time away from our lives and enjoying being away from the city.
My husband, Matthew, had stayed behind, claiming that he needed to stay at home.
“I have to be home, Piper,” he said when I was packing my bags. “It’s just work responsibilities. There are meetings and presentations coming up.”
“Are you sure?” I asked him. “Why don’t you come along, and then we can find you a place to work in between it all?”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “You go and join the others and have fun. You need some time away from this place.”
He continued to persuade me to go on the trip, and eventually, I gave in.
“If you’re sure, then it’s settled. I’ll go,” I said. “But I’ll meal prep your food for you before I go.”
Two weeks later, I was back home, feeling rejuvenated and happy to be back with my husband.
“I missed you,” I said when I walked into the house.
Matthew was cooking for us, music was playing in the background, and I felt grateful that I could come home to him.
“I’m just going to unpack the car,” I said. “But dinner smells great!”
I went outside and began to unpack my things when our downstairs neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, approached me by the car. Her stern expression made me pause everything.
“Is everything okay?” I asked her, ready to jump at whatever she needed.
“No, Piper,” she said, crossing her arms. “I know that you and your husband are a young couple and stay up until the late hours. But could you try and keep it quiet at night? At least from about nine-thirty. For the past week, I could barely sleep.”
I blinked, taken aback.
“What? Mrs. Peterson, I haven’t been home all week. Are you sure that it was coming from our place?”
The old woman frowned, and I could tell that she was trying to see if I was joking or not.
“Well, someone was making a lot of noise, Piper,” she said. “It sounded like a party every single night.”
I wasn’t sure what I was listening to. I knew that Matthew was a good guy, but we were on the top floor, and there wasn’t anyone living above us.
Was there a possibility that I didn’t know my husband as well as I thought?
I apologized profusely, my mind racing. As soon as she walked away, I rushed upstairs to confront Matthew. I needed to know what Mrs. Peterson was talking about.
If he had been entertaining people, then that was one thing, and it was okay.
But what if he was having an affair?
“Stop it,” I muttered to myself as I stood in the elevator.
I found my husband lounging on the couch, watching TV.
“Matt, we need to talk,” I said, my voice giving me away.
He looked at me, picked up the remote, and switched the TV off.
“What’s wrong, Piper?”
“Mrs. Peterson just complained about noise coming from our apartment every night last week. I wasn’t here, Matthew. What the hell is going on, and who were you making so much noise with?”
My husband’s face paled, and he buried his face in his hands. My heart sank.
There was something about the resignation of his body that made me think that he was guilty. But guilty of what?
Was he simply guilty of having friends over? Or an affair?
“Please, just tell me the truth,” I pleaded, sitting down on the couch across from him.
“I’m not having an affair,” he muttered, barely audible. “And I know that’s what you’re thinking. But I was just ashamed to tell you the truth.”
“What truth? What do you mean? What’s going on?” I asked, the questions hurling themselves at Matthew.
My husband took a deep breath and looked up, his eyes filled with something that I couldn’t understand.
“I lost my job a few months ago, Piper. I didn’t know how to tell you. But I’ve been desperate to make money so that you wouldn’t notice the shortfall. While you were gone, I rented out our apartment to make some money. I stayed at Trent’s place while the apartment was rented out.”
I sighed, the relief and confusion dissipating from my body.
“So, the noise was from the people who rented out the place?” I asked, needing to hear it from him.
He nodded.
“I’m sorry, love,” Matthew said. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to worry. And I didn’t want you to miss the trip just because of me. I also had an interview during the first week, and I wasn’t about to reschedule it.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me, Matt?” I asked. “We could have figured something out together.”
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I was just scared about letting you down.”
“We’re a team, Matthew,” I said. “You don’t have to face things like these alone. We can deal with this together. That’s what marriage is about.”
My husband smiled and pulled me toward him.
“I understand that now,” he said.
We sat in silence for a while, both trying to figure out the next move. I knew that he would have been trying to find another job, and I didn’t want to ask him a million questions about it.
He would tell me when something came up.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s eat.”
We sat down at the table, and Matthew asked me about the trip.
“Tell me everything,” he said. “Did Liam get drunk and do something stupid?”
“Of course he did!” I laughed as Matthew poured me a glass of wine. “He tried moonshine from some other campers and ended up streaking, running through tents.”
“I bet Sasha wasn’t impressed,” Matthew laughed. “That couple is always disagreeing.”
As we did the dishes together that evening, Matthew sighed and leaned against the counter.
“Thank you for understanding,” he said. “Thank you for not thinking that I was covering up an affair.”
I smiled at my husband, ashamed that I entertained the thought of him having another woman in our home.
“But did you make sure to change the bedding?” I asked him. “I’m not about to sleep in a bed that other people have been in.”
Matthew laughed loudly.
“Our bedroom was locked, darling,” he said. “They only used the guest room.”
Over the next few days, we talked about everything. We spoke about the loss of his job, the financial strain, and our plan moving forward.
“I’m actively looking, Piper,” he said over coffee and toast the next morning. “I’ve set up alerts for job positions that I would fit into. And I’ve cut down on any other unnecessary expenses. This isn’t going to be for long. I can promise you that.”
As for Mrs. Peterson, I went downstairs to her apartment, ready to explain everything.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know about everything Matthew was going through. And he ended up letting our apartment out as an Airbnb for the week, just to make some money off it.”
“Oh, honey,” she said, her eyes softening as she put the kettle on. “It’s okay! I understand it now. I just thought that you two were taking advantage of the situation. But I get it now.”
“Thank you for understanding,” I said. “We just need a minute to get back on our feet.”
Mrs. Peterson faffed around the kitchen, making us some tea.
“Look, Piper,” she said, giving me a plate of biscuits. “I’m here and willing to help you out if you ever need the help.”
It turned out that in her youth, Mrs. Peterson had been through tough times herself and knew how hard it could be to ask for help.
What would you have done?
My Parents Refused to Attend My Wedding Because My Fiancé Was Poor — We Met 10 Years Later and They Begged to Build a Relationship
When Emma fell in love with a humble teacher, her parents gave her an ultimatum: choose him or them. On her wedding day, their seats sat empty, but her grandpa stood by her side. At his funeral ten years later, her estranged parents begged for her forgiveness, but not for the reasons she thought.
Growing up in our pristine suburban home, my parents had a running joke about how we’d all live in a grand mansion someday.
A mansion with a formal garden | Source: Pexels
“One day, Emma,” my father would say, adjusting his already-perfect tie in the hallway mirror, “we’ll live in a house so big you’ll need a map to find the kitchen.”
My mother would laugh, the sound like crystal glasses clinking, adding, “And you’ll marry someone who’ll help us get there, won’t you, sweetheart?”
“A prince!” I’d reply when I was a kid. “With a big castle! And lots of horses!”
An excited girl with her hands in the air | Source: Midjourney
I thought it was funny throughout my early childhood. I even used to daydream about my future castle. But by high school, I understood there was nothing funny about it at all.
My parents were relentless. Every decision they made, every friendship they had, and every activity we attended had to advance our social climbing somehow.
Mom vetted my friends based on their parents’ tax brackets! I don’t think I’ll ever forget how she sneered when I brought my classmate Bianca over to work on our science project.
A woman with a disapproving look | Source: Midjourney
“You aren’t friends with that girl, are you?” Mom asked at dinner that evening.
I shrugged. “Bianca’s nice, and she’s one of the top students in class.”
“She’s not good enough for you,” Mom replied sternly. “Those cheap clothes and awful haircut says it all, top student or not.”
A strange feeling churned in my gut when Mom said those words. That was when I truly realized how narrow-minded my parents were.
A teen girl seated at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
Dad was no better. He networked at my school events instead of watching my performances.
I still remember my leading role in “The Glass Menagerie” senior year. Father spent the entire show in the lobby discussing investment opportunities with the parents of my cast mates.
“Did you see me at all?” I asked him afterward, still in my costume.
“Of course, princess,” he replied, not looking up from his phone. “I heard the applause. Must have been wonderful.”
A man using his phone while his sad teen daughter stands nearby | Source: Midjourney
Then came college and Liam.
“A teacher?” My mother had practically choked on her champagne when I told her about him. “Emma, darling, teachers are wonderful people, but they’re not exactly… well, you know.”
She glanced around our country club as if someone might overhear this shameful secret.
I knew exactly what she meant, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t care.
A woman with a determined look on her face | Source: Midjourney
Liam was different from anyone I’d ever met. While other guys tried to impress me with their parents’ vacation homes or luxury cars, he talked about becoming a teacher with such passion it made his whole face light up.
When he proposed, it wasn’t with an enormous diamond in a fancy restaurant. It was with his grandmother’s ring in the community garden where we’d had our first date.
The stone was small but caught the sunlight in a way that made it look like it held all the stars in the universe.
A diamond ring sparkling in sunlight | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t give you a mansion,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, “but I promise to give you a home filled with love.”
I said yes before he could even finish asking.
My parents’ response was arctic.
“Not that teacher!” my father had spat as though he was talking about some criminal. “How will he provide for you? For us? You’ll be throwing your future in the trash if you marry him!”
A man gesturing angrily during dinner | Source: Midjourney
“He already provides everything I need,” I told them. “He’s kind, he makes me laugh, and he—”
“I forbid it!” Dad interrupted. “If you go through with this, if you marry that teacher…”
“Then we’ll cut you off,” Mom finished, her voice sharp as glass. “Call him right this minute and break up with him, or we’ll disown you. We didn’t invest so much time and effort in your upbringing only for you to throw it all away.”
My jaw dropped.
A woman gasping in disbelief during dinner | Source: Midjourney
“You can’t be serious,” I whispered.
“It’s him or us,” Dad replied, his face like stone.
I’d known my parents might have a hard time accepting Liam, but this? I couldn’t believe they’d make such an impossible demand.
But the hard look on their faces made it clear their decision was final. I knew I had to make a choice, and it broke my heart.
A sad but determined woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll send you an invitation to the wedding in case you change your minds,” I said before standing up and walking away.
The wedding was small, intimate, and perfect, except for the two empty seats in the front row. But Grandpa was there, and somehow his presence filled the whole church.
He walked me down the aisle, his steps slow but steady, and his grip on my arm was firm and reassuring.
“You picked the right kind of wealth, kid,” he whispered as he hugged me. “Love matters more than money. Always has, always will.”
A bride hugging her grandfather | Source: Midjourney
Life wasn’t easy after that. Liam’s teaching salary and the money I made from freelancing brought in just enough to make ends meet.
We lived in a tiny apartment where the heat only worked when it felt like it, and the neighbor’s music became our constant soundtrack. But our home was full of laughter, especially after Sophie was born.
She inherited her father’s gentle heart and my stubborn streak, a combination that made me proud daily.
A child looking at a book | Source: Pexels
Grandpa was our rock through it all.
He’d show up with groceries when things were tight, though we never told him about our struggles. He’d sit for hours with Sophie, teaching her card tricks and telling her stories about his childhood.
“You know what real wealth is, sweetheart?” I overheard him telling her once. “It’s having people who love you for exactly who you are.”
An elderly man telling stories to his great-granddaughter | Source: Midjourney
“Like how Mommy and Daddy love me?” Sophie had asked.
“Exactly like that,” he’d replied, his eyes meeting mine across the room. “That’s the kind of rich that lasts forever.”
When Grandpa passed away, it felt like losing my foundation. Standing at his funeral, holding Liam’s hand while Sophie pressed against his leg, I could barely get through the eulogy.
Then I saw them — my parents. They were older but still immaculate and approached me with tears during the reception.
A mature couple at a funeral reception | Source: Midjourney
Mother’s pearls caught the light from the stained glass windows, and Father’s suit probably cost more than our monthly rent.
“Emma, darling,” my mother said, reaching for my hands. “We’ve been such fools. Please, can we try to rebuild our relationship?”
For a moment, my heart soared. Ten years of pain seemed ready to heal until Aunt Claire marched up and pulled me aside.
A woman with a grim look | Source: Midjourney
“Emma, honey, don’t fall for it,” she said, her voice low and urgent as she guided me toward a quiet corner, “your parents’ apology isn’t genuine. They’re only doing it because of the condition in your Grandpa’s will.”
“What condition?”
Aunt Claire pursed her lips. “Dad spent years trying to convince your parents to reconcile with you. They always refused, so he put it in his will. The only way your mom will get her inheritance is if they apologize and make peace with you, otherwise, her share of the money will go to charity.”
A woman whispering to someone | Source: Midjourney
The truth hit me like a physical blow. Even now, after all these years, it is still about the money. The tears in their eyes weren’t for me, or Grandpa. They were for their bank account.
I thanked Aunt Claire for telling me the truth before going to the microphone to give another speech.
“Grandpa taught me what real wealth looks like,” I said, my voice carrying across the hushed room. “It looks like my husband spending extra hours helping struggling students without pay. It looks like my daughter sharing her lunch with a classmate who forgot theirs.”
A serious woman speaking into a microphone | Source: Midjourney
“Real wealth is love given freely and without conditions.” I looked directly at my parents. “Some people never learn that lesson. But I’m grateful to have had someone who showed me the difference between true richness and mere wealth.”
Later that day, I learned that Grandpa had left me a separate inheritance, no strings attached. Enough to ensure Sophie’s college education and ease our constant financial juggling act.
The lawyer also confirmed that my parents would receive nothing. Every penny of their expected inheritance would go to educational charities, supporting students who couldn’t afford college.
A lawyer in an office | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t help but smile, imagining Grandpa’s satisfied grin. He’d found a way to turn their greed into something beautiful.
That night, tucked between Liam and Sophie on our worn but comfortable couch, watching an old movie and sharing a bowl of popcorn, I felt a peace I hadn’t expected.
My parents’ betrayal still hurt, but it was a distant ache now, overshadowed by the warmth of the family I’d chosen and built.
“Mom,” Sophie asked, snuggling closer, “tell me another story about Great-Grandpa?”
A woman snuggling her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“Well, sweetie,” I said, catching Liam’s loving glance over her head, “let me tell you about the time he taught me what real wealth means…”
Looking at my daughter’s eager face and my husband’s gentle smile, I knew I’d never regret choosing love over money. After all, I was the richest person I knew.
Here’s another story:After losing my wife, my family stopped visiting me altogether, but the neighborhood children became my comfort with their frequent visits. Once I got tired of being neglected by my own family, I decided to make them see the error of their ways.
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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