Then one day, Ethan came home, sweat dripping from his forehead. His shirt was soaked, and he looked like he’d been running for hours.
“Ethan, what happened?” I asked, walking over to him as he plopped down on the couch.
“Mrs. Johnson asked me to mow her lawn,” he panted. “She said she’d pay me twenty bucks.”
I glanced out the window at Mrs. Johnson’s yard. It was huge, easily the biggest in the neighborhood. Ethan had mowed the entire thing. It looked perfect, lines neat and clean.
“Two days,” Ethan said, wiping his face with his shirt. “It took me two whole days. But she said she’d pay me when I was done.”
I smiled at him, proud. Ethan was a good kid, always looking to help out. He’d been saving up for weeks to buy a food processor for his grandma’s birthday. The twenty dollars would help him get a little closer.
“Did she pay you yet?” I asked, still looking out the window.
“No, but I’m sure she will,” Ethan said, his voice hopeful.
I nodded. Mrs. Johnson might be distant, but stiffing a kid out of twenty bucks? Even she wouldn’t do that. Or so I thought.
A few days passed, and I noticed Ethan was quieter than usual. He wasn’t his usual cheerful self, and it worried me.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked one evening as he sat by the window, staring at Mrs. Johnson’s house.
“She hasn’t paid me yet,” he said softly.
I frowned. “Well, have you asked her?”
Ethan nodded. “Yeah, I went over yesterday, but she told me she was busy and to come back later. So I went again today, and she told me… she told me to get lost.”
“What?” I gasped, shocked. “What do you mean ‘get lost’?”
Ethan looked down at his hands, his voice shaking just a little. “She said I should be grateful for the lesson I learned from mowing her lawn. That learning to work hard was the real payment. She said I didn’t need the money.”
My heart dropped, and my anger rose. This woman had tricked my son into doing two days of hard work and then refused to pay him. How dare she?
I clenched my fists, trying to stay calm for his sake, but inside I was boiling. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I’ll take care of it.”
Ethan gave me a small, trusting smile. But inside, I was already planning what I’d do next. Mrs. Johnson might think she was teaching my son a lesson, but she was about to learn one herself.
I sat on the porch the next morning, watching Mrs. Johnson pull out of her driveway, as polished as ever. The decision had been brewing inside me for days, and now, I felt no hesitation.
My son deserved justice, and if Mrs. Johnson wasn’t going to do the right thing, then I’d make sure she learned a lesson of her own. I got to making calls and leaving voice messages.
Around an hour later, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mark, my old friend from high school, who now ran a small landscaping business. I explained the situation in a quick, hushed tone.
“So, you want me to… trim her hedges into weird shapes?” he chuckled on the other end of the line.
Mrs. Johnson took immense pride in her yard, especially her hedges. Every Saturday morning, without fail, she’d be out there, pruning the bushes with meticulous care.
She had them shaped into perfect, symmetrical forms that gave her house a neat, upscale appearance. To her, those hedges weren’t just plants—they were a statement.
“Exactly. Nothing destructive. Just enough to give them a funny look. She’s proud of that yard, and I want her to notice.”
Mark was quiet for a moment, then laughed again. “You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll swing by later today.”
Step one of the plan was set. Now, for step two. I grabbed my laptop, found a local mulch delivery service, and called them up, doing my best to mimic Mrs. Johnson’s crisp, no-nonsense tone.
“Hi, this is Katherine Johnson. I need three large truckloads of mulch delivered to my address. Yes, the whole driveway. Thank you.”
I hung up, feeling a strange thrill. My heart pounded in my chest. Was I really doing this?
Yes. Yes, I was.
Then, I left a few messages for my neighbors. While asking for small favors, I made sure to casually mention what Mrs. Johnson had done to Ethan.
Later that afternoon, three giant trucks rolled up and began unloading piles of mulch onto Mrs. Johnson’s driveway. I watched from my porch as the workers carefully emptied their loads, blocking her entire driveway with massive mounds of dark brown mulch. There was no way she was getting her car in tonight.
By then, the neighborhood had started to buzz. I saw a few of the neighbors peeking through their windows, whispering to each other. Word had gotten around about what Mrs. Johnson had done to Ethan, and now, they were seeing my revenge unfold right in front of them.
I could feel the tension building. Everyone was waiting for Mrs. Johnson to come home. So was I.
At around 6:30 p.m., her shiny black car turned the corner and pulled onto our street. As soon as she saw the mulch, her car screeched to a halt. She sat there for a moment, probably in shock. Then she slowly rolled forward, coming to a stop in front of the pile blocking her driveway.
I leaned back in my chair, sipping my tea, and waited.
Mrs. Johnson got out of the car, her face a mix of confusion and anger. She marched over to the hedges first, staring at the strange shapes they’d been trimmed into. She ran her hands through her perfectly styled hair and pulled out her phone, probably to call someone to fix it.
A few of the neighbors had gathered across the street, pretending to chat, but really watching her reaction. They exchanged quiet laughs and glances. Mrs. Johnson looked around, realizing she was being watched, and her eyes landed on me.
She stormed across the street, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement.
“Did you do this?” she snapped, her voice tight with rage.
I smiled, taking another sip of my tea. “Me? I don’t know anything about landscaping or mulch deliveries.”
Her face turned bright red. “This is unacceptable! You think this is funny?”
I set down my cup and stood up, meeting her gaze. “Not as funny as stiffing a 12-year-old out of twenty dollars.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She knew exactly what I was talking about.
“Maybe it’s just the universe teaching you a lesson,” I said, my tone sharp. “Hard work is its own reward, right?”
Mrs. Johnson clenched her jaw, her eyes darting from me to the piles of mulch and then back to the small crowd of neighbors now openly watching. She was trapped. She couldn’t argue with me without looking worse in front of the whole street.
“Fine,” she spat, turning on her heel and stomping into her house. A minute later, she reappeared with a crumpled twenty-dollar bill in her hand.
She shoved it at me, but I didn’t take it. “Give it to Ethan,” I said, stepping aside.
She shot me one last glare, then walked over to where Ethan stood at the edge of the yard. “Here,” she muttered, shoving the bill at him.
Ethan took the money, eyes wide with surprise. “Uh, thanks.”
Mrs. Johnson didn’t say another word as she hurried back to her car. She fumbled with her phone, probably trying to call someone to remove the mulch blocking her driveway. But I wasn’t worried about that. My job was done.
Ethan smiled so wide, I thought his face might split in two.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, beaming.
“Don’t thank me,” I said, ruffling his hair. “You earned it.”
Mrs. Johnson never asked Ethan for help again. And every time she passed the neighbors, I could see the embarrassment in her eyes. Her hedges grew back, and the mulch eventually disappeared, but the story of how she learned a lesson about honesty and hard work stayed with the neighborhood.
Sometimes, the people who seem the most put-together are the ones who need a good reminder that you don’t mess with a mother protecting her son.
Delivery Guy Left a Message for Me on a Pizza Box — Turns Out, He Saved Me from a Disastrous Marriage
When Emily ordered pizza while her fiancé was out of town, she expected a quiet night alone, not a message that would unravel her life. Little did she know, the delivery would save her from a disastrous marriage.
Living with Jake felt like being stuck in a comfortable routine. Our small apartment, with its cozy throws and mismatched cushions, was our haven—or so I thought. I’m Emily, and for the past three years, Jake and I have made a habit out of simple pleasures.
Emily ordered a pizza | Source: Midjourney
The most frequent one was ordering pizza from the same local spot on our lazy evenings. It was a ritual. Jake would browse through movie listings while I’d dial up our favorite pizzeria.
Tom, the delivery guy, knew us by name. His visits were as regular as clockwork, complete with his cheerful “How’s it going?” that echoed through our small entryway. Tonight, however, it was just me. Jake was out of town on a business trip, and the quiet was louder than usual.
I ordered a single pizza—my usual, pepperoni with extra cheese. When the doorbell rang, it was Tom, as expected, but something about him was off tonight. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his hands seemed to shake a bit as he handed me the pizza box.
Tom delivered the pizza | Source: Midjourney
“Evening, Emily. Jake’s not around tonight?” Tom asked, a slight quiver in his voice.
“No, just me tonight,” I responded, trying to sound cheerful. Tom nodded, quickly turning on his heel to leave—too quickly, it seemed.
As I shut the door, his behavior nagged at me. Was he okay? Shaking off the concern, I carried the warm box to the kitchen. The aroma of garlic and tomato sauce filled the air, a comfort that usually felt like a hug.
Emily found the note | Source: Midjourney
But as I opened the box, my heart skipped a beat. There, scrawled across the inside lid of the box with a black Sharpie, was a message that read, “He is not who you think. Check your door camera.”
The pizza suddenly seemed unappetizing as a cold wave of dread washed over me. My hands trembled as I set the box down, the cheerful buzz of the apartment now swallowed by a looming silence. What was I about to find on that camera?
My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the tablet that controlled our door camera. The message in the pizza box had sent chills down my spine, and every second until I opened the app felt like an eternity. I tapped into the camera’s history, my breath catching with each swipe back through the days.
Emily finds the footage | Source: Midjourney
Then, I saw it.
Jake, my Jake, greeted a woman at our door. Not just any woman—this one was laughing as she handed him a bottle of wine. My heart sank. I scrolled further. Another day, another woman, this one carrying a stack of movies.
Every time I was away, it seemed, Jake had company. Different women, each visit documented clearly by the camera he had installed, ironically, for our safety.
Jake meets the other woman on his front porch | Source: Midjourney
I sat frozen, the tablet dropping to my lap. My mind raced. How could he? When had our life together turned into this charade? Tears blurred my vision, each clip on the camera a stab to my heart. The trust I’d placed in him, the love I’d nurtured—were they all just one-sided? Was I the only one in this?
With each woman’s laugh, each shared bottle of wine, it felt as though the apartment shrank, the walls closing in on me. I’d loved this space, our shared life, but now each room screamed of betrayal.
I felt nauseous, a lump forming in my throat as the reality settled like lead in my stomach. This wasn’t just a simple mistake or a misunderstanding. It was a deliberate, repeated betrayal. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms.
Emily calms herself before confronting Jake | Source: Midjourney
Rage mingled with my sorrow, heating my tears as they streamed down my face. I had to confront him, to demand answers. But first, I needed to compose myself, to gather the shattered pieces of my dignity. I couldn’t let him see me broken.
I had to be strong, for my own sake. The love I thought we had was gone, and in its place was a cold, hard anger. Jake had some serious explaining to do, and I was going to make sure I got it.
When Jake returned, the apartment was silent, the tension as thick as fog. I sat at the kitchen table, the images from the door camera looping in my mind. He greeted me with his usual casual smile, oblivious to the storm inside me.
Jake returns home | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Em. Missed you,” he said, hanging up his coat.
I didn’t return the smile. “We need to talk.”
Jake’s smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”
I held up the tablet, showing a pause on a frame of him with one of the women. “Care to explain this?”
Jake glanced at the screen, then shrugged, his posture relaxed. “Emily, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. They’re just friends.”
Jake listens to Emily | Source: Midjourney
“Friends?” I snapped. “Different women, each time I’m away? Really, Jake?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Em, you’re being paranoid. These women mean nothing.”
“Nothing?” My voice rose, anger searing through my calm façade. “How can you say that?”
Jake’s tone hardened. “I bring a lot to this relationship. You really want to throw this away over some insecurity?”
Shocked Emily | Source: Midjourney
That was it. His dismissal, his arrogance—it crystallized everything I felt. “It’s not insecurity when I have evidence, Jake. I can’t do this. I won’t marry someone who thinks so little of me.”
Jake’s face tightened, the arrogance slipping into shock. “You’re serious? Over some nonsense?”
“Yes,” I said, firm and clear. “I’m done. We’re done.”
He stared at me, then without another word, grabbed his coat and left. The door slammed shut behind him, and just like that, it was over.
Emily sits in front of the closed door | Source: Midjourney
After a few moments alone, gathering my thoughts, I picked up my phone and dialed the pizza place. Tom answered.
“Tom, it’s Emily. I… I wanted to say thank you. You were right about Jake.”
There was a pause on the line. “I’m really sorry, Emily. I thought you should know.”
“I appreciate it,” I said, sincerity heavy in my voice. “Could I… maybe buy you a coffee sometime? To talk?”
Tom talks to Emily | Source: Midjourney
“I’d like that,” Tom replied, a warmth in his voice that comforted my bruised heart.
The next day, as I met Tom at the local café, the anxiety of confronting Jake felt like a distant memory. Tom’s genuine concern was evident in his eyes, making me feel seen for the first time in a long while.
“Thank you for being honest with me, Tom. It must have been hard to decide to tell me,” I said as we sat down with our coffees.
Tom and Emily go out for a coffee | Source: Midjourney
He nodded. “It was, Emily. But it didn’t feel right keeping it from you. Everyone deserves the truth.”
As we talked, I realized how much of my identity had been tied to my relationship with Jake. Now, as I sat across from Tom, a sense of freedom and possibility washed over me. Here was someone who valued honesty over convenience. It was refreshing and, strangely, hopeful.
Our conversation moved from the heavy topics to lighter ones, and laughter soon followed. I hadn’t expected to feel this light after such a heavy blow. It was a reminder that sometimes, out of the wreckage comes a chance to rebuild something better.
Emily laughs with Tom | Source: Midjourney
Sitting there with Tom, laughter bubbling up between us, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. It was like breathing fresh air after being cooped up indoors too long.
“I never thought a pizza delivery could change my life,” I joked, glancing at Tom. His smile told me he understood.
Tom laughs with Emily | Source: Midjourney
“Life is strange, Emily. Sometimes help comes from where you least expect it,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with kindness.
As we left the café, a new sense of hope filled me. I was ready to move forward, to embrace whatever came next. I wasn’t sure what the future held, but I was certain of one thing: I was on my way to finding happiness again, one slice at a time.
My Boyfriend Went on a Bachelorette Trip with All Women — Karma Struck Hard When the Truth Came Out
Secrets, lies, affairs, drama, and so much more are what make up my sordid tale. I once trusted my boyfriend with having a female best friend but felt uneasy when she asked him to join her bachelorette party. Only to find out that there was more to their “friendship” than I anticipated!
A shocked woman looking at a phone | Source: Pexels
Let me tell you about the time I, Matilda, learned that sometimes the universe knows when to intervene. It all started when my boyfriend, Jake, was invited to be the “man of honor” at his female best friend, Lisa’s, wedding. He was thrilled; I was… less so.
Lisa planned a weekend bachelorette getaway in a quaint cabin by a lake. To my dismay, Jake was the only guy invited! “It’s just a fun trip, babe! You know I love you,” he assured me.
He said this while packing his bags excitedly and ahead of time. This all happened at the apartment he shared with three other guys, as I hovered around.
Read more of this story here.
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.
Leave a Reply