Dad Told Me to Take Cold Showers with the Soap He Gave Me — When My Boyfriend Walked into My Bathroom, He Started Crying

When Amelia’s father gave her a soap bar and told her to take cold showers with it, she never thought he had an evil, hidden agenda behind it. Her world turned upside down when her boyfriend told her the horrifying truth about that soap.

I’ve always been Daddy’s little girl, but now I feel like throwing up when I say those words. I’m not his little girl, and he’s not the man I always thought he was. Let me tell you why.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

So, I’ve always been close to my father, like REALLY close. I’m 23, and I lived with my parents up until a month ago because Dad never wanted me to move away.

He had given me the second floor of the house where I had my bedroom and a bathroom. Those two rooms of the house solely belonged to me. They were my safe space until the day Dad began to complain.

A man standing near a door | Source: Midjourney

A man standing near a door | Source: Midjourney

My father is one of those people with a personality resembling a coconut. You know, hard on the outside and soft on the inside. He has these strict rules and principles that he abides by, but he also has this empathy inside that makes him the best Dad ever.

“Character is built in discomfort,” he’d always tell me. “You gotta face the worst now if you want a life full of luxuries ahead.”

But he’d also buy me chocolates and ice cream on days I didn’t feel good.

A woman holding an ice cream cone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding an ice cream cone | Source: Pexels

Meanwhile, my mother has always been the typical loving mom. She’s always ready for hugs and kisses and never says no whenever I ask her to cook my favorite pasta. She has always been a sweetheart.

However, I recently felt that my parents were not the same anymore. Over the past few months, they had grown cold, and the love and care had suddenly vanished.

A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney

Honestly, I sometimes felt like I was living with two strangers in the house. It felt like we had lost the connection we always had.

Then began the unnecessary complaints and nitpicking from Dad’s side.

“You and your friends were too loud last night!”

“You’re staying out too late, Amy.”

“You’re spending too much on unnecessary things!”

Then came the complaint that really snatched my self-confidence.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“You smell horrible, go take a cold shower and use the soap I gave you!”

I smell horrible? What? I thought. Where did that come from?

That was the day when Dad handed me this soap I had never seen before. It was a green, chunky soap bar that smelled a bit weird, but Dad had asked me to use it, assuring it would help get rid of the unpleasant body odor.

A woman holding a soap bar | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a soap bar | Source: Pexels

His words made me feel so self-conscious that I had even stopped hanging out with my boyfriend, Henry.

I often found myself smelling my skin, clothes, hair, and even my breath, just to check what made my father feel so uncomfortable around me.

I followed his advice and used that soap whenever I took a shower. Or, if I may put it correctly, I took five showers a day just to use that soap and get rid of the smell that had apparently been haunting my father.

A woman taking a shower | Source: Pexels

A woman taking a shower | Source: Pexels

I scrubbed my skin so hard that I stripped it of the moisture it needed. My skin had begun to look dry, scaly, and so rough.

Even then, my father said I still smelled like rotten onions.

“Did you use that soap, Amy? I don’t think you did,” he’d say. “You smell so bad.”

What shocked me even more was that my mother didn’t say a word when Dad humiliated me like that every day. She didn’t say anything in my defense or stop me from being so hard on myself.

A woman sitting on a chair, looking down | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting on a chair, looking down | Source: Pexels

Mom and I had always been close. She was the only person I shared everything with since I was a kid. I’d always tell her about my latest crush, my new boyfriend, and even the new slang I’d learned at school.

I couldn’t believe it when she stood silently, avoiding my gaze, while Dad kept grilling me. I won’t ever forgive Mom for not being there for me when I needed her the most.

A woman looking down | Source: Pexels

A woman looking down | Source: Pexels

I kept showering with the soap, and my clothes always clung to me because they were damp from the frequent showers.

Besides, I began avoiding my father. I’d always scurry up to my room and lock the door whenever he returned home from work. I didn’t want him to see me. Or, more specifically, smell me.

The turning point came when my boyfriend, Henry, came over. We had been dating for a few months, and he was the one bright spot in my increasingly bleak days.

A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney

Henry has always been the supportive boyfriend, the green flag we all look for. He’s always been kind to me, and he came over that day because he had noticed I had been avoiding him.

“Where have you been, Amy?” he asked as he held me by my arms.

“I was… I was just busy with some stuff, Henry,” I faked a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Really? You don’t look fine, babe,” he said.

“I’m okay, Henry,” I said as I held his hand. “Tell me one thing… Do I smell bad?”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

He laughed, thinking I was kidding.

“No, babe. You smell fine. Why?”

“Nothing. I just…” I mumbled. “Forget it.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said before going to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I watched him step out of the bathroom with the soap bar in his hand. I could see he wasn’t too happy about it.

“Who gave you this?! Are you taking cold showers with this?!?” he asked with eyes wide open.

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

How did he know this? I thought.

“Yeah, my Dad. Why?” I asked, trying my best not to panic.

“They didn’t tell you, did they?! Baby, this isn’t soap! It’s used to strip industrial machinery of grease and grime.”

“Wait, what?” I was shocked.

“This stuff is toxic, Amy. It causes chemical burns.”

I can’t explain how betrayed and heartbroken I felt at that point. How could my father do this to me? To his daughter who he loved so much?

A woman looking straight ahead, shocked | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead, shocked | Source: Midjourney

That’s when it all started to make sense to me. The dry, itchy skin and the weird texture of the soap bar. It also made me wonder if my mother knew about this.

“I think we need to go to the hospital to get you checked,” Henry said. “And then, we’re going to the police. This is abuse, Amy.”

I don’t know why, but I stopped him.

A man sitting in his girlfriend's house | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in his girlfriend’s house | Source: Midjourney

I knew he was telling the truth, but I couldn’t put the words “abuse” and “Dad” together. I had never seen Dad in a negative light, and I didn’t like how those words fit in the same sentence and made so much sense.

In short, I couldn’t accept that my father had tried to hurt me.

“We can’t do that,” I told Henry. “We can’t go to the police.”

“But why?” he asked.

“I’ll explain that later,” I said. “Please just help me get out of here. I’ll confront my parents later.”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

He agreed, and we moved into a small apartment a few days later. It was cramped and barely furnished, but it felt like a safe haven compared to what I had endured.

Then, it was time for me to confront my parents. I drove back to their house the next day.

When I arrived, Dad was in his usual spot, watching TV in the living room, and Mom was in the kitchen. I walked in with the soap bar in my hand and stood in front of my dad.

A man holding a remote | Source: Pexels

A man holding a remote | Source: Pexels

“I never thought you’d do this to me, Dad,” I said as I held the soap bar high enough for him to see. “This is toxic. It’s poison. It ruined my skin. Why did you do this?”

“Oh, so you finally found what it is, huh?” he smirked. “You needed to learn a lesson.”

“A lesson?” I laughed. “You nearly killed me. For what? Because you thought I smelled bad?”

“Please stop this!” My mother finally intervened. “Amy, yo—”

“You knew, Mom, didn’t you?” I cut her off. “You were a part of this ridiculous plan, right?”

A woman in her parents' living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her parents’ living room | Source: Midjourney

I watched tears trickle down her cheeks, but she didn’t say a word.

“Why did you do this to me, Dad?” I confronted my father. “I need to know!”

I wasn’t ready for his response. I had no idea it would turn my world upside down.

“You want to know why?” he said, almost to himself. “Fine. When your mother and I went on that vacation last year, we had a little too much to drink. We ended up in a crowd, where a fortune teller told me that your mother had been unfaithful.”

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“What are you talking about?” I asked as my heart flipped.

“That’s true,” he continued. “When I confronted your mother the next morning, she told me the truth. She told me you weren’t mine. You’re the result of an affair she had while I was working hard for us in another country.”

I looked at my mom, who couldn’t meet my gaze. Then, I looked back at Dad as he continued to speak.

A sad woman looking down | Source: Pexels

A sad woman looking down | Source: Pexels

“Your mother begged me not to leave her because she didn’t want to break our family apart,” he shook his head. “So, I agreed. But on one condition. I had to make her pay, and you too. Because YOU ARE NOT MY DAUGHTER!”

My heart shattered into a million pieces that day. I couldn’t believe my father had this evil side. The evil personality that was so hungry for unjust revenge.

A close-up shot of a woman, shocked | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman, shocked | Source: Midjourney

“You mean you gave me that toxic soap because you were angry at Mom? Because you thought I was not your daughter?” I asked as the tears in my eyes blurred my vision.

“You’re not my daughter,” he said and turned around. “You’re not my blood.”

For the next few seconds, I stared at his back in silence, wondering why he punished me for something that wasn’t my fault.

“Alright, I’m done with you,” I said as I wiped away my tears. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

A woman about to leave her parents' house | Source: Midjourney

A woman about to leave her parents’ house | Source: Midjourney

And with that, I stepped out of the house that was once my haven. Over the next few days, I visited the hospital multiple times for my skin treatment and talked to my lawyer regarding how I could file a case against my parents.

Soon, my father received a notice of the restraining order and the impending lawsuit. With that, his smug confidence was shattered, and his reputation was in ruins. His entire circle was disgusted by his actions.

A man reading a legal notice | Source: Midjourney

A man reading a legal notice | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, Mom tried to get in touch with me, but I didn’t reply to any of her calls or texts. If she couldn’t take a stand for me, why should I even bother talking to her? I was done.

Now, living with Henry, I feel a sense of peace that had been missing from my life for ages. I don’t remember the last time I had laughed this much in my own house. I can’t thank fate enough for blessing me with a man like Henry. I have no idea what I’d do without him.

A man sitting in his apartment | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in his apartment | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Bobby discovered a hidden stash of expensive gifts in his teenage daughter’s closet, along with a photo of an unknown older man and a note about a café meeting. He discreetly followed her to the café, unaware he’d uncover a secret that would tear his family apart.

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.

My Son Brought a Woman My Age, Saying She’s Now the Lady of the House – They Didn’t Like the Lesson I Prepared for Them

It all started the day my son, Ryan, brought home a woman about 20 years older than him and announced she was moving in. At first, I didn’t say much, but I had a plan. Let’s just say, by the time they realized the weight of their actions, it was far too late.

For years, all I wanted was to see Ryan happy and settle down with someone who would love him as much as I did. That wish intensified after my husband passed away three years ago.

But little did I know my dream would come true in a way I could never have expected.

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

For most of my life, I’ve been lucky. I had a loving husband, two wonderful kids, and a home that was always warm and full of laughter.

My husband, Daniel, was the kind of man who knew how to make life feel steady and secure. When he passed away three years ago, it felt like the ground beneath my feet had crumbled.

Since then, I’ve done my best to keep moving forward, even though some days are harder than others.

A woman looking outside a window | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking outside a window | Source: Midjourney

Bella, my daughter, has been a bright spot in my life. She’s always been my dependable, hardworking child. Even as a little girl, she took pride in doing her best at school.

It wasn’t a surprise when she graduated at the top of her class and landed a great job in another city. Bella’s single now, and while I sometimes wish she’d settle down, I’ve never had to worry about her.

She’s always been focused and capable.

A woman working on a laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman working on a laptop | Source: Pexels

Then there’s Ryan, my youngest. Ryan has always been a free spirit.

As a kid, he had zero interest in school. His world revolved around video games, comic books, and goofing around with his friends. Back then, getting him to do his homework was like negotiating with a stubborn mule.

But something changed when he hit his late teens. Maybe it was seeing his friends get serious about their futures, or he just realized he couldn’t play video games for a living.

A man holding a controller | Source: Pexels

A man holding a controller | Source: Pexels

Whatever it was, Ryan started putting in the effort. He eventually graduated with a diploma and landed a stable job.

He wasn’t going to be the next CEO of a tech company, but he was responsible and earning a paycheck, and that was enough for me.

Ryan’s big passion now is traveling. He’s always saving up for trips, exploring new places, and returning with stories of his adventures.

A man with a suitcase | Source: Pexels

A man with a suitcase | Source: Pexels

It makes me happy to see him so excited about life, even though I secretly wish he’d spend less time planning trips and more time thinking about his future.

At 30, he’s still living at home with me, which I don’t mind. After Daniel’s passing, having Ryan around has been a comfort.

But like any mother, I want more for him. I want him to find someone who makes him happy. Someone he could share his life with.

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

After Daniel passed, that wish only grew stronger. Honestly, it’s not about wanting grandkids. It’s about wanting Ryan to have the kind of love and partnership I had with Daniel.

“Ryan,” I’d ask him every now and then, “Is there anyone special in your life?”

He’d laugh and wave me off. “Mom, you’ll be the first to know.”

I don’t know if I was the first to know, but he told me about it after returning from France.

He opened up during dinner one day.

A man sitting in his house | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in his house | Source: Midjourney

“So, Mom,” he started, poking at his plate with his fork, “I met someone on my trip.”

“Really?” I looked at him. “Tell me everything!”

He told me her name was Lydia, and he met her in an art gallery in Paris.

“She’s smart, funny, and we just… clicked,” he said, his face lighting up.

“And what does she do?” I asked, eager to know more.

“She curates art collections for high-profile clients. She’s incredibly knowledgeable about the art world, and I love how passionate she is about what she does.”

A man standing in front of paintings | Source: Pexels

A man standing in front of paintings | Source: Pexels

“She sounds amazing!” I exclaimed. “When can I meet her?”

“Not yet,” he replied, shaking his head. “I want to take my time, Mom. Get to know her better first.”

That was enough for me. For months, I dreamed about the day Ryan would introduce me to this incredible woman.

I imagined her as young, vibrant, and full of energy. I had no idea my expectations would soon shatter in ways I couldn’t have anticipated.

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

Months after Ryan first mentioned Lydia, he came to me with a wide grin.

“Mom,” he said, standing in the doorway with his hands stuffed in his pockets, “I think it’s time you met Lydia.”

“Really? That’s wonderful, Ryan!” I clapped my hands together, already imagining the young, bright-eyed woman who’d won my son’s heart.

“She’s free this Friday,” he said. “Maybe we could all have dinner together?”

A man talking to his mother | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his mother | Source: Midjourney

“Of course!” I agreed instantly. “I’ll make lasagna. Everyone loves lasagna.”

I wanted everything to be perfect, so I ensured everything in the house looked good.

I imagined Lydia would be bubbly and full of life, a younger woman who adored Ryan and would look up to me as a mother figure. I even pulled out my best dress and styled my hair, making sure I looked modern enough to keep up with the young couple.

A woman's dresses | Source: Pexels

A woman’s dresses | Source: Pexels

When Friday came, I could barely contain my excitement. The lasagna was in the oven, the table was set with my finest dishes, and I was putting the finishing touches on a salad when the doorbell rang.

“That must be her!” I called out.

Ryan jumped up to answer the door while I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel. I was super excited, but I froze as soon as I stepped into the living room.

Standing there was Lydia. But she wasn’t the young, fresh-faced woman I’d imagined.

A woman in her boyfriend's house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her boyfriend’s house | Source: Midjourney

She was mature. Only five years younger than me, if I had to guess.

Her hair was perfectly styled, and she wore a sleek outfit that screamed sophistication. She looked more like a woman who should be attending a wine-and-cheese party with me than dating my son.

“Mom, this is Lydia,” Ryan said, beaming with pride.

“Hello, Celine!” Lydia greeted me with an enthusiastic smile, extending her hand.

“Hi,” I managed to murmur and shook her hand weakly.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

Ryan didn’t seem to notice my shock. He led Lydia into the dining room, chatting about their day as if everything were perfectly normal.

I followed them in a daze, wondering if I’d stepped into some alternate reality.

As we sat down to eat, Ryan seemed eager to share their plans for the future.

“Mom,” he began. “I’ve been thinking, uh, Lydia’s going to move in with us.”

A man sitting with his family for dinner | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting with his family for dinner | Source: Midjourney

I nearly choked on my water. “Move in? With us?”

“Yes,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “It makes sense. She can help with the house, and we’ll save money by living together.”

I turned to Lydia, who smiled brightly.

“I think it’ll be wonderful,” she said. “I’d love to help out around the house and make things easier for you, Celine.”

I didn’t need help. I’d been managing the house perfectly well on my own for years. But before I could say anything, Ryan continued.

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

“It’s not just about saving money,” he added. “I love her, Mom. I think she’s the one.”

I always felt happy whenever he talked about his love for Lydia, but this time, I felt disgusted. How could he be happy with a woman almost my age?

The rest of the dinner was a blur. I nodded and smiled, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I wrestled with my feelings. Should I tell Ryan how I felt? Would he listen if I did? Or would he push me away?

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

One thought kept coming back to me.

If I opposed this, I might lose my son. After losing Daniel, the idea of losing Ryan was unbearable. So, despite my misgivings, I decided to let Lydia move in.

At first, everything seemed fine. Lydia was polite and respectful, and I tried my best to make her feel welcome. But soon enough, the cracks began to show.

It started with small inconveniences.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

Lydia monopolized the bathroom every morning, leaving me with just a few minutes to get ready for the day. She used the groceries I bought but only cooked for herself and Ryan, never asking if I wanted to join.

The final straw came when she began redecorating. She swapped out my cozy floral curtains for modern, minimalist blinds and replaced my favorite armchair with a cold-looking leather recliner without consulting me.

Enough is enough, I thought. I need to talk to Ryan.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

Later that evening, I voiced my concerns, thinking my son would understand them.

“Ryan,” I said as we sat in the living room, “I feel like I’m losing my home.”

Ryan sighed. “Mom, you’re overthinking this. Lydia’s just trying to make the house more comfortable for all of us.”

“Comfortable?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “She’s turning it into a space I barely recognize.”

“Mom, relax,” he said. “She’s just trying to take charge of everything. It’s her way of showing she cares.”

A man talking to his mother | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his mother | Source: Midjourney

“Celine, I thought you’d appreciate the changes,” Lydia chimed in. “The house needed a bit of an update.”

“It’s my house,” I said firmly. “And I like it the way it is.”

But Lydia wasn’t one to back down.

A few days later, she casually suggested over breakfast, “You know, Celine, you have a great basement. It’ll be perfect for you. Or maybe you could stay with your single daughter. You see, I need a room for my office so I was thinking we could take the master bedroom when you leave.”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“Excuse me?” I looked at her with wide eyes.

“Mom, it’s not a bad idea,” Ryan said. “Lydia needs space for her work, and you’ve been saying Bella misses you.”

I stared at them, unable to believe my son and his girlfriend wanted me to give up the home Daniel and I had built together.

I wanted to fight and tell Lydia to leave my house, but I didn’t. Instead, I did something they didn’t expect.

I signed the house over to Ryan.

A woman signing a document | Source: Pexels

A woman signing a document | Source: Pexels

A month later, my phone rang. It was Lydia.

“SO, THIS WAS YOUR PLAN?!” she screamed.

It turned out they had received the first batch of bills, including mortgage payments, utilities, property taxes, and more.

Lydia had assumed the house was fully paid off, and Ryan, as clueless as ever, hadn’t known we still had payments.

“Well,” I said calmly, “you wanted to be the lady of the house. Now act like one.”

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“You can’t do this!” she protested.

“Being a homeowner isn’t just about redecorating, Lydia. It’s about managing everything. You should’ve thought about this before asking me to hand over the house. Welcome to the real world!”

Lydia and Ryan begged me to take the house back, which I did. But the damage was done.

I’d learned a hard truth about my son and his priorities. And while I still love him, I’ve decided to start loving myself more.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Jake finally introduces his girlfriend to his parents, only to discover that his father knows her. Or of her — revealing her secret life of dark restaurants and deals with businessmen…

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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