Claire was nervous about her first day at her new job, but getting stuck in the elevator with a stranger and accidentally breaking his nose in a panic made things worse. When they exited the elevator, she discovered that this man was her new boss. A boss known for his reputation as a ruthless tyrant.
Claire walked down a bustling street, her stomach a knot with excitement. Today was her first day at a new job, a job she had long dreamed of. She was starting as a graphic designer at a large company, and it was very exciting for Claire.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She knew she had to make a good impression on the first day and worried about whether she could pull it off.
Claire was naturally very clumsy, so she rarely managed to made a good first impression, but today she was determined to succeed.
Another reason she needed to show her best side was that she had heard rumors that her new boss was very strict and demanding, not tolerating mistakes.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves as she approached the towering office building. It loomed above her, glass reflecting the morning sunlight. With a final deep breath, she mustered up her courage and went inside.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The lobby was grand, with sleek modern decor and people hurrying about. Claire felt a bit overwhelmed but kept moving, reminding herself to stay focused. She walked to the elevator, where an attractive man in a suit was already standing.
He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place where she had seen him before. His sharp suit and confident stance made him look important. Claire pressed the button to call the elevator.
“I already pressed the button; there was no need to press it again,” the man said coldly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, you mean the elevator. I didn’t even think… It’s my first day,” Claire mumbled, stumbling over her words. The man gave her a stern look. “I’m very anxious,” she added.
The elevator doors opened, and the man stepped inside. Claire followed him in. The man pressed the button for the 11th floor and looked at Claire, expecting her to press her floor button.
“Me too, 11,” she said. Claire had checked all the information she had been sent dozens of times that morning. “So, it looks like we’ll be colleagues,” she said.
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“Yeah,” the man replied.
“I heard the boss is very strict and doesn’t forgive mistakes,” Claire said with a nervous laugh.
“I don’t see anything wrong with that. If you want a successful company, you need to minimize mistakes and the people who make them,” he replied.
“Maybe,” she said, thinking they definitely wouldn’t be friends. “I’m Claire, by the way,” she extended her hand for a shake.
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“Yes, I—” but the man was cut off as the elevator suddenly stopped.
“What’s happening?” Claire asked in a panic.
“It seems there’s a malfunction; it should start again soon,” the man replied calmly. Just after he said this, the lights in the elevator went out.
“Oh god, no, no, no. Not this! We’re stuck!” Claire began to panic.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Calm down; it should start working again soon.”
Claire started to hyperventilate, pacing back and forth in the elevator.
“What’s happening to you?” the man asked.
“I’m really afraid of confined spaces,” Claire answered.
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“You were just fine a moment ago.”
“ʼBut the elevator ride only takes a few seconds; I can handle that. Now it’s unclear how long we’ll be stuck here.” Claire couldn’t calm down; she was already on edge, and now this. She collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down her face. “I’m not ready to die so young!” she cried out.
The man crouched next to her and put his hand on her back. “Calm down; no one is going to die. It’s just an elevator, and you’re not alone,” he said, gently rubbing her back.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Miraculously, this started to help, and Claire slowly began to calm down. Suddenly, the elevator jolted, scaring her, and she accidentally elbowed something.
“We’re falling!” Claire screamed. Suddenly, the lights came back on, and the elevator began to move. Claire turned around and saw she had bloodied the man’s nose.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to,” she said, standing up from the floor.
The man remained silent, pressing a handkerchief to his nose. The elevator doors opened, and the man immediately stepped out. Claire followed him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Mr. Hemforth! What happened?” a woman cried out. Claire felt her blood run cold. Mr. Hemforth—that was the name of her new boss. Claire had just punched her boss!
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath.
Several days had passed since the elevator incident, and all this time, Claire increasingly felt that Mr. Hemforth hated her.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. His constant disapproval only added to her anxiety.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He hadn’t approved any of her work or ideas, no matter how hard she tried. Claire arrived at work at 7 a.m. and left at 10 p.m., just to finally create something Hemforth would like, but it was all in vain. Her efforts seemed pointless. It seemed he was deliberately rejecting her work.
When other colleagues praised something and said how great Claire was, Hemforth would look at her work and say he’d never seen anything worse in his life. It was like a punch to the gut every time. Claire’s confidence was dwindling.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
One day, Claire decided to try again. She walked to his office, her heart pounding. She took a deep breath, mustering the little courage she had left, and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Hemforth’s voice called from inside.
Claire entered, holding her latest design in her hands. “Mr. Hemforth, I’ve made some changes. I hope this meets your expectations,” she said, handing him her work.
“Are you kidding me?” Hemforth said, frowning. “Why are you showing me a draft?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“This is the final version,” Claire replied, her voice shaky.
“You shouldn’t have said that. Redo it,” Hemforth replied, his tone stern.
Claire couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you hate me so much? I’ve apologized several times for hitting you, and it was an accident. Everyone else praises my work. Why haven’t you said anything good?”
“I don’t hate you. I want to teach you,” Hemforth answered calmly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Then you should take teaching courses,” Claire snapped, her frustration boiling over. She turned and left the office, slamming the door behind her.
That evening, the office was empty and dimly lit. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound accompanying Claire as she sat at her desk, tirelessly working on the same project over and over again.
Her eyes were strained from staring at the screen for hours, and she rubbed them, trying to focus. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, reminding her that it was already half past ten at night.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Suddenly, Claire heard the familiar sound of the elevator dinging. She glanced up, squinting to see who it could be at this late hour.
The dim lighting made it hard to make out the figure at first. Her heart skipped a beat when the figure stepped out of the shadows, and she realized it was Hemforth.
“Damn it!” Hemforth shouted, his voice echoing in the empty office. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” Claire said, her voice small and apologetic.
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Hemforth took a deep breath and approached her desk. “What are you doing here so late?” he asked, his tone softer now.
“I’m working,” Claire replied, trying to muster a smile. “And you?”
“I forgot my phone,” Hemforth said, shaking his head. “Came back to get it.”
“I see,” Claire said, feeling a bit awkward.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Hemforth leaned over to look at her laptop screen. “Why are you doing it this way?” he asked, a frown creasing his forehead.
Claire blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you trying so hard to fit into our mold?” Hemforth asked, looking at her intently.
“I thought that’s what I was supposed to do,” Claire said, her voice uncertain.
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Hemforth shook his head. “I hired you because your work stood out. I thought you could bring something new to our company.”
Claire was taken aback. “I… I didn’t know that,” she admitted. She really thought he wanted her to follow the same guidelines as everyone else.
Hemforth sighed and took the mouse from her hand, deleting everything she had been working on. Claire gasped, feeling a pang of panic. “What are you doing? I spent the whole day on that!” she protested.
“I know,” Hemforth said, looking at her with a calm expression. “I’m sorry, but I want you to create something new. Something that’s truly yours, not just what you think we want.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire felt her frustration rising. “Well, I guess I’ll be spending the night here,” she said, determined to prove herself.
“No need,” Hemforth said, shaking his head. “Start fresh tomorrow.”
“No,” Claire insisted. “I want to come in with results. You’ll probably fire me anyway.”
Hemforth looked surprised. “Why would I fire you?” he asked.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Because I haven’t had a single approved project,” Claire said, feeling the weight of her frustration and exhaustion.
“That’s normal,” Hemforth reassured her. “You’re still learning. You’re the most talented person in this office, maybe even better than me. Just stop limiting yourself.”
Claire stared at him in disbelief. She had never expected to hear such praise from Hemforth. “Really?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” Hemforth said firmly. “We haven’t had such a young and talented employee in a long time. The last one was five years ago.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire looked at him, puzzled. “You’re not much older than me,” she said.
“I’m talking about myself,” Hemforth explained. “I joined the company only five years ago, and look where I am now. And you’re better than me. If you want, I can help you.”
Claire felt a surge of gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Hemforth,” she said. “But I’d rather do it myself.”
Hemforth smiled. “Just call me Derek,” he said. “Work hours ended long ago. I’ll be in my office if you need help.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As Hemforth walked away, Claire felt a newfound determination. She took a deep breath and turned back to her laptop, ready to create something truly her own.
The next few hours, Claire spent working on a new project. She kept Hemforth’s words in mind and let herself be free, not worrying about fitting in. She tried new ideas and different styles, feeling more confident with each stroke.
Finally, Claire sat back and looked at the finished work. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was the best thing she had created since starting at the company. A smile spread across her face.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire grabbed her laptop and walked to Hemforth’s office. She knocked gently on the door, her heart pounding. When Hemforth looked up, she stepped inside and placed the laptop on his desk, turning it so he could see the screen.
“Take a look,” Claire said, her voice a bit shaky but hopeful.
“See, that’s what I was talking about. Good job,” Hemforth said, his face lighting up with a smile.
“Really?” Claire asked, her eyes wide with surprise. She still couldn’t believe it.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Yes,” Hemforth said, standing up from his desk. “You can actually do much more than you imagine.”
“Thank you,” Claire said, feeling a mix of relief and pride.
She returned to her desk and started packing her things. Claire walked to the elevator, where Hemforth was already standing, waiting.
“I’m getting flashbacks from our first meeting,” Claire said with a small laugh.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“That wasn’t our first meeting,” Hemforth replied, his expression softening.
“What do you mean?” Claire asked, puzzled.
“Do you remember the graduation party where you cried in the bathroom because your lenses were expired and your eyes were burning?” Hemforth asked, looking at her closely.
“I wasn’t crying; my eyes were just watering. How do you know that?” Claire asked, her mind racing to remember.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I was the one who brought you tissues and lens solution,” Hemforth said, a smile playing on his lips.
“That was you?” Claire said, her eyes widening in recognition. “I thought that was some kind graduate…”
“Yeah, that was me,” Hemforth replied. The elevator doors closed, and they both stepped inside.
“I’ve been looking for you since that day but couldn’t find you. Then I saw your resume for this job,” Hemforth continued, his voice calm but sincere.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You were looking for me?” Claire asked, her heart skipping a beat.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Hemforth admitted.
“Oh,” Claire said, feeling a rush of emotions.
“Sorry, I got carried away,” Hemforth said, looking a bit embarrassed.
“I was going to drop out the next day because I thought I wasn’t good enough,” Claire confessed. “But I stayed because of your words.”
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“What’s important is not whether you’re worthy of being here, but whether you’re ready to fight for your choice,” they said in unison, both surprised at their shared memory.
“You remember,” Claire said, smiling brightly.
“Of course,” Hemforth said. “I remember every part of that conversation.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Their eyes met, and without thinking, Hemforth leaned in to kiss Claire. She responded, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hemforth pressed a button, and the elevator stopped.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” he said softly, then kissed Claire again.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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I Came Home with My Newborn Twins to Find the Locks Changed, My Stuff Thrown Out, and a Note Waiting for Me
After giving birth to my first children, I thought my husband would start choosing us more over his mother, but that wasn’t the case. This time, he’d chosen her side over me for the last time, so I exposed her for the bully and liar she was.
You’d think bringing home your newborn twins would be one of the happiest moments of your life. For me, it started like that, but it soon turned into an absolute nightmare!
An upset mother with her newborn babies | Source: Midjourney
After three days in the hospital, recovering from a grueling delivery, I was finally discharged and ready to head home with my beautiful twin daughters, Ella and Sophie. I’d imagined this moment for months: Derek, my husband, picking us up at the hospital with flowers, tears of joy in his eyes as he took one of the girls into his arms.
But instead, at the last minute, I got a hurried phone call that changed everything…
An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, baby,” my husband said, his voice clipped. “I am so sorry, but I can’t come pick you guys up as planned.”
“What?” I asked, adjusting the swaddle around Sophie. “Derek, I just had twins. What’s so important that you can’t—”
“It’s my mom,” he interrupted. “She’s in bad shape. Hectic chest pains. I need to pick her up and take her to that hospital close to her.”
His words hit me like a bucket of cold water. “What? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Derek, I need you here.”
“I know,” he said, exasperated. “But this happened suddenly, and it’s serious. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”
An anxious man on a call | Source: Midjourney
I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to scream because of how disappointed and frustrated I felt, but I replied, “Fine. I’ll just get a taxi.”
“Thank you,” he mumbled before hanging up.
My husband’s mother lived in a different city, so the chances of him getting back that same day to get me and the babies were unrealistic. Knowing how obsessed Derek was with his mother, he wasn’t going to leave her by herself, hence the taxi.
An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
As the line went dead, my heart sank. I wanted to believe Derek wasn’t being callous, just overwhelmed and a mama’s boy. Still, the disappointment stung. The same mother-in-law (MIL) who insisted we make a separate set of keys to our house so she could help me with the babies was now suddenly unwell.
I tried shaking it off as I bundled the girls into their car seats that their father had dropped off the previous day and got us into a cab.
A woman in a cab with her children | Source: Midjourney
When we pulled into the driveway, I froze. My suitcases, diaper bags, and even the crib mattress were scattered across the front lawn and by the doorstep! A knot formed in my stomach. I paid the driver and stepped out with the twins, glancing around nervously. Something was obviously very wrong…
A messy front yard | Source: Midjourney
I approached the front door, fumbling with my keys while absentmindedly calling out my husband’s name, even though I knew he couldn’t be home yet. The key wouldn’t turn. Confused, I tried again. Nothing. Then I saw it, a folded piece of paper taped to a suitcase.
Get out of here with your little moochers! I know everything. Derek.
My breath caught, and my heart stopped. My hands trembled as I read the note again and again, trying to make sense of it while hoping it was a hallucination. This couldn’t be happening. Not Derek…
A shocked woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney
Not the man who held my hand through every doctor’s appointment, who cried when we heard our daughters’ heartbeats for the first time. Then the worst part of that day began…
Wanting answers, I called him immediately. Straight to voicemail. Again. Voicemail. Panic set in as Sophie’s cries joined Ella’s. I rocked their car seats, forcing myself to think.
A stressed woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Mom,” I whispered. My hands shook as I dialed her number.
“Jenna?” Mom answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong? Are the twins okay?”
I choked out the words, barely able to hold it together. I hadn’t wanted to involve my mother due to her ailing condition, but I believed this was one of those dire moments.
“Derek… He changed the locks. He threw my stuff outside. Mom, he left this awful note.”
“WHAT?!” Her voice shot up. “Stay there. I’m coming.”
An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney
Minutes felt like hours before she arrived. Mom took one look at the mess and narrowed her eyes, fuming.
“This doesn’t make sense! Derek wouldn’t do this; he loves you and the girls!”
“That’s what I thought,” I said, rocking Ella to calm her cries. “But he’s not answering. And what does ‘I know everything’ even mean?” I asked showing her the offensive note.
“I am so sorry, my darling,” she said while hugging me close. “Let’s go to my place until we can get a hold of your husband, okay?”
An older woman hugging a younger one | Source: Midjourney
She helped me load the bags into her car and whisked us back to her place. After my mother and I dissected what had happened and repeatedly called Derek with no answer, my anxiety spiked. That night, I barely slept.
The next morning, I decided I needed answers. Leaving the twins with Mom, I drove back in her car to the house. The yard was empty, my belongings gone. I knocked on the door. No response. I walked around to the back, peering through the windows, and froze.
A shocked woman peaking through a window | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s mother, Lorraine, sat at the dining table, sipping tea! I banged on the door, and she looked up, startled, almost spilling her tea before she saw me and smirked.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, banging on the door.
Lorraine rose leisurely and opened it just a crack. “Jenna. You’re not welcome here, didn’t you see the note?”
“Where’s Derek?” I snapped. “Why did he—”
“He’s at the hospital in my city,” she said smoothly. “Taking care of his sick mother.”
A nonchalant older woman standing by a door | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, disbelief washing over me. “Sick? You’re standing right here!”
She shrugged, her lips curling into a malicious smile. “Maybe I’m feeling better. Miracles happen.”
“You lied to him, didn’t you? You faked being sick!”
Her smile widened. “And?”
My hands balled into fists. “Why? Why would you do this?”
She crossed her arms, her smugness growing.
A smug older woman | Source: Midjourney
“I told Derek from the start that our family needs a boy to carry on the name. But you? You gave us two girls. Useless,” she confessed unapologetically, finally speaking her truth after all these years I’ve been with her son.
Her words knocked the air out of me. I was too stunned to speak, and she took my silence as permission to keep going.
“I knew you’d ruin my son’s life, so I took matters into my own hands. The note was a bit much, but I needed you to believe he wanted you gone. I even ensured he couldn’t call you by taking his phone right out of his pocket when he wasn’t looking. You were supposed to take your things and get out of our lives, but here you are…”
An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t breathe. This woman had orchestrated everything, lied to her son, and got him to take her to the hospital under false pretenses before sneaking away, locked me out of my home, and stole his phone all because she disapproved of my daughters!
“You threw us out over that?”
“Of course,” she said, unbothered. “I even bribed a nurse at the hospital to keep him there. And it worked, didn’t it?”
I felt sick. “You’re deranged!”
“Call me what you want,” she sneered. “I call it protecting my family. Besides, my Derek always takes my side and will see things my way as usual.”
An arrogant older woman | Source: Midjourney
Her words echoed in my mind as I drove to the hospital where my husband was still waiting. With every mile, my anger grew. How could she justify such cruelty? My hands gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles white with fury.
I knew my MIL was mean, but I didn’t think she was evil! She never approved of my relationship or marriage to her son, always believing Derek deserved someone wealthier and fancier, unlike me.
An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney
When I reached the hospital, I found my husband pacing in the waiting room, his eyes shadowed with worry.
“Jenna!” he said, rushing toward me. “Where have you been? I don’t have my phone or know your number by heart, so I couldn’t call you!”
“Your mother took your phone,” I cut him off. “She faked her illness and locked me out of the house!”
He froze, confusion and anger flashing across his face. “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”
A man at a hospital | Source: Midjourney
“She set me up, wrote a fake note from you sending me away, and bribed a nurse to lie to you,” I said, my voice trembling. “Lorraine’s at our house, sipping tea like she’s the queen of the world!”
“Wait. What? Why would she…”
“Because our daughters aren’t boys,” I said bitterly.
The shock turned to rage on his face. Without saying a word, he grabbed his keys and stormed out, with me following close behind. When we got home, Lorraine was exactly where I’d left her, looking utterly unbothered.
An older woman having tea | Source: Midjourney
But her smugness vanished when she saw the determined look on Derek’s face.
“Mom,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “What did you do? I thought you were in the hospital?”
She opened her mouth, likely to lie, but Derek cut her off. “Save it. I know everything.”
“Derek, I was just trying to—”
“You’ve done enough,” he snapped. “You made me abandon my wife and children for a fake emergency! Then you locked my wife, who just gave birth, and our newborn babies out of our home! On top of that, you cut our ability to communicate during such a crucial time by stealing my phone!”
An angry man shouting | Source: Midjourney
“Derek, darling… I just wanted to keep you safe. This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” my MIL replied pleadingly.
“Keep me safe from my wife and children? Who told you I wanted boys? What makes you think my girls aren’t good enough for me just because of their gender? That’s a problem you have, not me, and if you want sons, I suggest you go make them yourself!”
I stood with my mouth agape, having never seen Derek this angry! I won’t lie, a part of me was proud that he was proving himself worthy of me by defending my and the children’s honor. At that moment, I loved him more than ever before!
A happy woman | Source: Midjourney
“Pack your things and leave,” he demanded.
She gaped at him, tears forming. “You can’t mean that. I’m your mother!”
“And Jenna is my WIFE! Those are my daughters! If you can’t respect them, you’re not part of our lives!”
For once, Lorraine was speechless. She stormed upstairs to pack, slamming doors as she went. Derek turned to me, his eyes full of remorse.
“I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t know.”
I let out a shaky breath, the tension easing just a little. “I just want us to move forward.”
A happy woman with her man | Source: Midjourney
Lorraine left that night. My husband apologized repeatedly, vowing to make things right. And he did. He changed the locks, blocked his mother’s number, and even reported the nurse who had taken the bribe!
It wasn’t easy, but for months we worked on rebuilding our life. One evening, as I rocked Ella and Sophie to sleep, I realized Lorraine had tried to destroy us but only managed to bring us closer together.
A happy couple with their twins | Source: Midjourney
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