After Years of Leaving and Going back to My Cruel Dad, My Mom Showed up on My Doorstep Again — Story of the Day

My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything.

I sat across from my friend Sandy in my kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of free time together. Life got busy, and it felt like we never saw each other anymore.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s nice to finally catch up,” Sandy said with a smile.

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, pouring her a glass of wine.

After a pause, she looked at me curiously. “Is your mom living with you now?”

“No, why would she?” Sandy’s eyebrows furrowed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I thought she left your dad again?”

“Oh, you know how it goes with them. Every two years, same story. He messes up, she gets mad, packs her bags, and swears she’s done for good. Then he buys her something fancy, and suddenly all is forgiven. They act like they’re in love again, like nothing ever happened.” Sandy sighed.

“Have you tried talking some sense into her?”

“I did,” I said, feeling the old frustration return.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I told her she deserves better. But then she goes back to him, and she’d get mad at me, saying I wasn’t supporting her.”

Sandy frowned and took a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry, Amalia. That sounds hard.”

My eyes landed on the corner of the kitchen table, where my mom had left a note the last time she left my dad. I could still picture her then—standing in my doorway, suitcase in hand, her face full of hope.

“I’ve left him for good this time, Amalia,” she said with a determined smile.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to believe her, but deep down, I doubted it. Still, a tiny hope stirred inside me, whispering that maybe this time would be different.

We went to a café nearby for breakfast, sitting across from each other. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and finally said what I’d been too scared to say before.

“Mom, you know you can’t keep going back to him, right?” I asked, my voice steady.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked down at her coffee, then back up at me with a weak smile. “Of course, I’m not planning to. I’ve made up my mind.”

I sighed and leaned closer. “He’s awful, Mom. He treated you terribly. He doesn’t change.”

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and took her hand.

“I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, you know?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She squeezed my hand, her eyes watering. “Thank you, dear. It means a lot.”

I thought maybe my words got through to her. Maybe this time would be different. But when I came back from work that evening, the house was quiet. I called for her, but no answer.

Instead, a note sat on the table: “Your father apologized and bought me a new car. I realized I overreacted and went back. XX Mom.” I crumpled the note, tossing it into the trash. How foolish I’d been to hope.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Sandy’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. “You should understand your mom better than anyone,” she said. “You left Robert, and that was hard. But you did it.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, it was hard. But I knew I had to.” She lifted her glass, her eyes warm.

“Well, I think you’re strong as hell. Cheers to that.”

I laughed and raised my glass. “Cheers.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up late. My alarm didn’t go off, or maybe I just slept through it. Either way, I was rushing around, trying to get dressed, find my keys, and grab my bag all at once.

My hair was a mess, and I could barely think straight. I could already tell it was going to be one of those days where nothing goes right. As I tried to slip on my shoes, I heard the doorbell. I glanced at the clock.

I didn’t have time for this. “Damn it,” I muttered, frustrated. I opened the door and froze. There stood my mom, holding a suitcase, her face serious.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the words slipped out. “What did Dad do this time?!”

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and she said, “He died.”

For a moment, everything around me just stopped. I couldn’t breathe or think. My mind went completely blank, like a switch had been turned off. I tried to say something, anything, but no words came out.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After hearing the news, I called my boss and said I needed the day off. There wasn’t much I could explain, so I just told him there was a family emergency. My mom and I got in the car and drove back to my childhood home.

When we arrived, I walked into my old bedroom and felt a rush of memories. Everything was the same—the posters on the wall, the faded bedspread, even the little figurines on the shelf. It was like stepping back in time, and for a moment, I felt like I was a teenager again.

On the morning of the funeral, I woke up to loud music blasting through the house. I groaned, pulled the pillow over my head, but Mom just turned it up louder, filling every corner of the house.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mom! Turn it off!” I shouted, my voice barely cutting through the blaring music.

“What?!” she yelled back from somewhere down the hall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you!”

A moment later, the music stopped, and I heard her footsteps. She appeared in my doorway, looking calm, like it was just a regular morning. “What were you saying?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Why is the music so loud?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s too early for this.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “This song makes me happy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I stared at her. “You’re not supposed to feel happy today. It’s the funeral.”

She looked at me, still smiling. “Why not? You should feel happy every day, no matter what’s happening.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Besides, this song is like 20 years old. Nobody listens to it anymore.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it,” she said. “I remember you dancing around your room, singing every word.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “and then I got sick of it, like everyone else.”

She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. When I love something, I love it forever,” she said softly, then turned and walked out. A few seconds later, the music started up again, just as loud.

After greeting everyone at the church, shaking hands, and hearing the same phrases—”I’m so sorry for your loss,” “He was a good man”—I felt drained. It was like I was on autopilot, just nodding and thanking people without really thinking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I needed a break, so I slipped away to a small, quiet room at the back of the church. I was hoping to be alone for a minute, but when I walked in, Mom was already there, sitting by the window. She looked up and smiled, her eyes tired but calm.

“I don’t like funerals either,” Mom said, staring out the window.

I just scoffed, feeling a bitter laugh rise in my throat. “Yeah, well, we’re stuck here.”

She turned back to me. “Did you prepare your speech?” she asked, her tone gentle.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head. “I’m not saying anything. I don’t have anything good to say about him.”

Mom’s face softened, like she was trying to understand. “Why not? He was a good father and a wonderful husband.”

I stared at her, stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we talking about the same person?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked confused. “Why do you hate him so much?” she asked, almost like she truly didn’t understand. “I never got it.”

“Why? Do you really want to know?” I felt something snap inside, and the words just came pouring out. “When I was 13, you went on a business trip, and my friend stayed over. We heard noises from your bedroom. We thought someone was hurt, so we went to check…”

“…And there he was, in bed with Mrs. Brown, our neighbor. I just screamed and ran out of the house. And when I came back, he didn’t say a word to me. He pretended like it never happened, like I didn’t see it. That’s why I hated him. And I still hate him,” I said, my voice trembling.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s eyes softened. “I know.”

“You don’t know how I feel!” I shouted, tears welling up.

“I mean, I know about the affairs,” she said, her voice calm.

“You knew?” I asked, shocked. “And you did nothing?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Of course I knew,” she said softly.

“Then I hate you too,” I said, my voice cold. I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.

“I’m sorry, Amalia,” Mom said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong like you. I was scared to leave him. I didn’t know how to do it for good.”

“You think I wasn’t scared when I left Robert? I was terrified,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “But I did it because I knew I had to. And you know what? It was hard, but eventually, it felt… freeing.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m glad to hear that. I never liked Robert, you know. When you left him, I was so proud. You knew you deserved better. But it wasn’t the same for me. When I love something, I love it forever. And I loved your father.” I stared at her, confused.

“Even after he treated you that way?”

She nodded. “He wasn’t perfect. I never needed him to be. He had flaws, and some were really big ones. But he always came back.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I frowned, trying to understand.

She sighed, her eyes meeting mine. “Honestly, I’m glad to hear you hate me. Because all this time, I thought you didn’t care. And between hate and indifference, I’d rather have your hate.”

I didn’t expect those words to hit me the way they did, but they did. For some reason, I found myself smiling a little. I glanced at the clock. “We need to go. People will be waiting.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mom gently placed her hand on my back. “You know, your father loved two things most in life: expensive liquor and making you laugh. Maybe you can mention that in your speech, but… skip the first part,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I couldn’t help but laugh, a real, honest laugh, and for a moment, the tension lifted. We left the small room together, side by side, and I felt something shift inside me.

I glanced at Mom and realized she wasn’t just my mom—she was a person, with her own fears, flaws, and regrets. I had always seen her as someone who should be stronger, someone who should have known better. But in that moment, I understood she was just trying her best, like I was.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While helping her mother, Sarah, move into a new house, Natalie stumbles upon an old photograph hidden in a box. It shows a young Sarah holding a newborn baby with a distinctive birthmark on its cheek. But Natalie never had a birthmark. Confused and unsettled, she realizes there’s a secret her mother has been hiding.

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.

A Year after Son’s Death, Woman Sees Grave of Her Daughter-In-Law at the Cemetery – Story of the Day

Brenda is baffled when her late son’s wife denies knowing her and stunned when she visits her son’s grave and sees her daughter-in-law’s headstone nearby. She seeks answers from her son’s best friend, but his suspicious behavior drives Brenda to unravel the mystery alone.

Christopher was only 27 when he died in a tragic accident, leaving his mother, Brenda, to face an endless abyss of grief. Her world was shrouded in darkness following his death, and her health suffered.

Now, after a year in a clinic, Brenda had traveled hundreds of miles to visit her son’s grave. Bearing the weight of grief that no words can express, she got off at the metro station in the city where Chris had lived, died, and was laid to rest.

As Brenda headed to the station exit, she saw a familiar face in the crowd: her widowed daughter-in-law, Harper. Brenda had planned to meet Harper after visiting the cemetery and now hurried after the young woman to surprise her.

“Harper! Harper? Wait a second!” She patted the woman’s shoulder from behind.

“I’m not Harper. You’ve got me wrong, lady!” The young woman arrogantly brushed away Brenda’s hand and rushed away.

That’s strange! Brenda thought. My eyes couldn’t be deceiving me. She has the same eyes…same hair color…and voice. She is Harper!

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

But the lady had vanished into the crowd. Brenda hailed a cab outside the station and headed to the cemetery. She was haunted by the encounter throughout her ride and couldn’t understand why Harper had acted so strangely.

“Ma’am…we’ve arrived,” the cabbie said as he pulled over at the cemetery gate, jolting Brenda out of her thoughts.

The silence was haunting as Brenda searched the row of graves for Christopher’s resting place. A wave of emotions washed over her when she found it. She broke into tears as she brushed her trembling hands on Christopher’s tombstone.

Disbelief surged through Brenda when her gaze shifted to the neighboring grave.

The epitaph etched on the headstone horrified her.

In Loving Memory of Harper. S.

January 8, 1995 – December 3, 2020

Forever cherished, Forever missed.

Rest in peace.

“Oh my God…Harper passed away last week and nobody told me?” Brenda gasped, unable to believe her eyes.

A haunting question immediately loomed in her mind: “If Harper is dead, then who was the girl at the subway?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Brenda snapped out of her thoughts when she heard someone raking dry leaves. The cemetery’s groundskeeper was working nearby. Brenda approached him and asked if he could tell her about Harper’s funeral.

The guy lit a cigarette and sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke into the air. “It took place last week. It was strange… There weren’t any mourners, just the funeral service employees. They brought the coffin, buried it, erected a simple headstone, and left. It wasn’t even a proper funeral.”

“Did anybody visit her grave after that?” Brenda frowned.

“Not that I know of, Ma’am,” he replied. “I work here all day and live on the grounds. I keep watch over the cemetery all the time and haven’t seen anybody visit that woman’s grave.”

“Alright…thanks,” Brenda said and turned around. Nothing made sense to her.

Curious to unravel the mystery surrounding her daughter-in-law and her demise, Brenda decided to meet Jake, her late son’s best friend and business partner.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Jake was caught off guard at seeing his best friend’s mother unexpectedly standing on his doorstep, smiling at him. He invited Brenda in, but she could sense his uneasiness.

When Brenda entered, she saw luggage in the living room, and she immediately asked Jake about his travel plans.

“I’m leaving this state, Mrs. Sutton. Been a rough year since Chris passed,” Jake said, a strange disappointment and worry etched on his face. “The company is bankrupt so I decided to move somewhere far away from all the mess I’ve been dealing with.”

“How can the company be bankrupt, Jake?” Brenda raised an eyebrow.

“What’s going on? I saw Harper’s tomb beside my son’s grave. Nobody even told me she passed away! Tell me…what happened to my daughter-in-law? How did she die?”

“Mrs. Sutton, I… I didn’t want to disturb you. After Chris’s passing, you were so disturbed and heartbroken. When I learned you’d be spending a year in the hospital, I was afraid your condition might worsen if you found out about the company’s financial crisis and what Harper did,” Jake said, haunting Brenda further.

“What did Harper do, Jake?” Brenda asked. “I want to know everything.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Jake took a deep breath. “Well, Harper inherited the company after Chris’s death, but she declined to manage it because she didn’t know anything about the business. So, by mutual agreement, I stepped in to manage the company because I was already Chris’s business partner.”

“Honestly, the business hit rock bottom after your son’s death. We were on the verge of declaring bankruptcy when Harper suggested finding investors and taking out loans to revive the company,” Jake explained.

“But…you said Harper declined any say in the business,” Brenda said, her suspicions raised.

“Yes, but we were all desperate to save the company. We agreed to Harper’s idea. But just a week ago, Harper withdrew the five million dollar loan money and fled. The police started looking for her.”

“Oh, my God! Harper stole the loan money?” Brenda gasped in disbelief. It was too hard to accept that her late son’s wife had destroyed his hard work after his death.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“We never expected her to backstab us like this, but she paid the price for her betrayal,” Jake added. “The cops discovered a burned car that had crashed into a cliff near the woods. It was Harper’s car. She met with a tragic accident and died immediately.”

“What? Oh my God…” Brenda exclaimed.

“The police recovered a woman’s completely burned body with Harper’s gold letter ‘H’ pendant. There were charred remains of hundred dollar bills. Everything else was incinerated…the case was closed as accidental death.”

“Jesus…Harper ruined everything,” Brenda said. “But wait…what about Christopher’s hard work? It doesn’t make sense that the company went bankrupt after he died.”

“I understand your frustration, Mrs. Sutton,” Jake said. “But circumstances spiraled out of control. Harper paid a heavy price for her actions, but her funeral was dignified. Many guests attended and everyone grieved her tragic death…despite the wicked thing she did to all of us.”

“Harper’s funeral??” Brenda grew suspicious. The cemetery groundskeeper had told her nobody attended Harper’s funeral. Something seemed incredibly fishy to Brenda. Jake’s anxiety and restlessness, coupled with his sudden decision to leave the city, fueled her doubts further.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Uh, when is your flight, Jake?” Brenda asked.

“Early tomorrow morning…6 a.m.,” he said.

“Do you mind if I stay here for the night?” Brenda asked, a plan brewing in her mind. “I’m wary about renting a hotel room all alone for tonight in a strange city.”

Jake thought for a while but eventually agreed and showed Brenda to the guest room. Brenda put out the lights but never slept. Instead, she anxiously waited for Jake’s bedroom lights to go off so she could search for a clue to help her connect the dots.

Once Jake was asleep, Brenda headed to the living room and rummaged through Jake’s luggage. Her hands trembled with a mix of anxiety and fear. What if Jake was pretending to be asleep? What if he caught her prying? The consequences haunted Brenda. But she was determined to unravel the truth.

Brenda’s search turned into her worst nightmare when she uncovered two fake passports hidden within a secret compartment. One featured a photograph of her supposedly ‘dead’ daughter-in-law, Harper, but under a different name.

“Sarah? Oh, who are you trying to fool, Harper?” Brenda muttered.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“John?” Brenda’s face twisted with suspicion when she saw Jake’s photograph under a different name in the other passport. “What’s going on here? Are they involved in something deeper…something I can’t even imagine?”

She then found two plane tickets to London booked under the fake names. A weird sensation crawled up Brenda’s gut.

Jake and his accomplice, Sarah, who was actually Harper, were up to something foul. Something had to be done.

She quickly put the luggage back as it was and hurried to the pharmacy at the end of the lane. Minutes later, she returned to Jake’s house with sleeping tablets.

Brenda was already in the kitchen making breakfast when Jake hurried downstairs at 5 a.m.

“Good morning, Jake! Have breakfast before you leave for the trip!” Brenda smiled warmly. “Here’s your orange juice.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Sutton, that’s really kind of you.” Jake sipped from the glass Brenda gave him. “It tastes…uhm…nice….”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Around twenty minutes later, Jake dozed off on the couch, just like Brenda had wanted. Harper couldn’t fly without a passport and plane ticket, so now, Brenda had to wait for her to call or text Jake.

“What’s taking her so long? It’s 5:30,” Brenda mumbled under her breath.

Suddenly, Jake’s phone rang, shattering the stillness in the room. The caller name, “Sarah,” flashed on the screen. But Brenda never answered the call. Eventually, a message notification appeared.

“How could you oversleep, idiot? Have you forgotten we’re flying to London today? I’m getting a taxi and coming to your house right now.”

“Come…I’m waiting for you…HARPER!”

Brenda grinned wickedly as she hid behind the front door. Around 30 minutes later, Brenda peered through the peephole and saw a taxi pull up outside. She quickly called the cops.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The door creaked open, and Harper stepped inside. Brenda could not believe her eyes when she saw her face. Her daughter-in-law was very much alive!

“Jake! Are you kidding me? Get up,” Harper barked at an unconscious Jake lying on the couch. That’s when a familiar voice spoke from behind, startling her.

“ARE YOU LOOKING FOR SOMEONE, HARPER?” Brenda said, striking a hard blow to Harper’s head with a vase.

A startled Harper collapsed on the floor and blacked out. Moments later, Brenda heard police sirens and hurried outside. She explained the situation to the cops and showed them the fake passports and flight tickets. Jake and Harper were hospitalized and later transferred to the police station for interrogation.

Jake refused to confess to his crimes, but Harper came clean when she learned her sentence could get cut off if she confessed the truth.

“We bribed a morgue worker and stole a homeless woman’s body. We put the body, wearing my gold chain, in the driver’s seat of my car and set it alight…Then we rammed the car from behind, causing it to fall off the cliff to make it appear like an accident.”

“And what about the money you stole?” The detective stared Harper in the eye.

“The five million has been transferred to our new bank accounts…we thought everything was covered…the new passports, the bank accounts, the flight…Jake and I thought we’d get away with it. But…” Harper paused and broke down, burying her head in her cuffed hands.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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