Caroline got a job as a cleaning lady in New York and went to her first assignment. It was a beautiful house in Manhattan, but she was shocked to find a picture of her mother in the office. Then, a man walked in.
Caroline had recently moved to New York with her friend, Melissa, to chase their Broadway dreams. Before they could find an apartment, they needed jobs. Melissa got a position at a clothing store, and Caroline was hired by a domestic cleaning agency.
The job was perfect for her. It wasn’t too demanding, and she enjoyed cleaning because it helped her relax. Plus, if no one was home, she could practice her singing.
Caroline couldn’t stop thinking about her mother before starting her first job. Her mother, Helen, had never wanted Caroline to follow her dreams or live in New York.
Caroline grew up in Philadelphia and didn’t have a father, as Helen never talked about him. Helen also had a strong dislike for New York and had always been overprotective of Caroline, which made her feel trapped.
When Caroline and Melissa planned their move, Caroline knew her mother would not approve. She worried Helen might even fake being sick to make her stay. But Caroline was determined to pursue her dreams, so she left a short note on her mother’s dresser while Helen was asleep and left.
It had been a few days, and Helen hadn’t called, which felt strange, but Caroline thought her mother was probably just angry. She hoped Helen would come around once she made it on Broadway. For now, Caroline focused on her cleaning job.
The agency director had told her that an older man lived in the house alone, so it wasn’t very messy. Following the instructions, Caroline used the key under the mat to enter the house and started cleaning right away, beginning with the kitchen, then the living room, and finally moving to the bedroom.
Caroline was nearly finished with her cleaning when she noticed a photo of her mother on the office mantelpiece. She hesitated before asking, “I’m almost done, sir. But may I ask a question? Who is this woman?”
She was standing at the entrance of the serious-looking office. There were no instructions against entering, so she carefully continued her work, avoiding the desk area.
The office was impressive, with a beautiful fireplace, a mantelpiece, and large bookshelves lining one wall. It looked like something from a movie.
Caroline quickly and thoroughly cleaned the office but stopped when she saw the photo on the mantelpiece. The woman in the picture looked like her mother, but much younger. She wondered aloud, “Why is my mother in this man’s pictures?”
Just then, she heard footsteps, and an older man entered the room. “Oh, hello there! You must be the new cleaning lady. I’m Richard Smith. I own this house,” he said with a friendly smile. “Are you finished in here?”
Caroline replied, “I’m almost done, sir. But may I ask a question?” She hesitated, hoping he wouldn’t mind her asking about the photo. “Who is this woman?”
Richard put on his glasses and looked at the photo. “Ah yes. That’s Helen. She was the love of my life,” he said.
Caroline’s curiosity was piqued. “What happened to her?” she asked.
Richard sighed, “She died in a bus crash. She was pregnant at the time. I couldn’t even go to her funeral because her mother hated me. It was a tough time. I tried to move on, but I never really did. I still love and miss her.”
Caroline felt a chill. “Sir, I’m sorry to intrude, and thank you for sharing that. But this woman… she looks so much like my mother. It’s incredible.”
Richard looked confused. “What do you mean?”
Caroline explained, “Well, my mother, also named Helen, looks just like this woman. Of course, she’s older now, but the resemblance is striking. I’m almost sure this is her,” she said, pointing to the photograph.
Richard asked Caroline, “Helen? Your mother’s name is Helen? Where did you grow up?”
“Philadelphia,” Caroline replied, shrugging. She suddenly realized that if the woman in the photo was her mother, this man might be her father.
Richard put his hands over his mouth in shock. “This can’t be possible…” he whispered. “Can I have your mother’s phone number?”
“Sure,” Caroline said and gave it to him.
“Can you stay here while I call her?” Richard asked. Caroline agreed.
Richard made the call from his office phone. After a few rings, her mother’s voice came on the line. “Hello? Is it you, Caroline?”
Richard glanced at Caroline but spoke first. “Is this Helen Geller?”
“Yes. Who am I speaking to?” Helen responded from the other end.
Richard’s voice wavered with emotion as he said, “Helen, it’s Richard.”
“Helen, who? Wait a minute. Richard Morris? What do you want after all these years?” Helen’s voice became cold.
Caroline and Richard looked at each other, puzzled. Richard pressed on, “What do you mean after all these years? I thought you were dead!”
“What?” Helen replied, confused.
Richard explained that he had lost Helen and their unborn baby in an accident. He told her how her mother had kept him away from the funeral and didn’t tell him anything afterward. But Helen was baffled and told him her side of the story.
“My mother said you called and decided you wanted nothing to do with me. So I raised my daughter on my own,” Helen explained. Caroline was stunned by this unexpected twist.
Richard continued, “Helen, I would never have left you. I never moved on. I’ve thought about you and our baby every day. I’ve been in pain for almost twenty years.”
Helen was silent. Then she said, “I can’t believe Mom would do this. But that was her way. I don’t know what to do now. Wait. How did you find out I’m still alive?”
Caroline spoke up, “Mom, I’m here.” She quickly explained what had happened and assured her mother that she was okay in New York.
Helen was in disbelief. “I can’t even ask my mother why she did something so cruel. She passed away years ago. But anyway, when are you coming back home, Caroline?”
Caroline replied, “I’m not coming back until I make it on Broadway. And now, I have another reason to stay here.” She glanced at Richard with a small smile.
Helen said, “Fine, but I’m coming to New York soon,” and then hung up. Richard and Caroline stared at each other in silence for a moment before speaking.
“So, I guess you’re my dad,” Caroline said with a smile. Richard laughed, and that helped them start to connect.
What can we learn from this story?
1. Let your children follow their dreams. Caroline left because her mother was too protective. It’s important to guide your children but let them make their own choices.
2. Sometimes, parents don’t always have your best interests at heart. Helen’s mother did something awful to both Helen and Richard, and they might never know why.
3. Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
Woman Thought Pretending to Be Someone’s Girlfriend at a Wedding Would Be Fun Until She Wished She Hadn’t — Story of the Day
Stuck in an elevator with a stranger was bad enough. But when Lena found out Dylan—a charming, suit-clad mystery man—needed a fake date for a wedding the next day, things got even weirder. A power outage, a bold proposition, and one tempting question: Would she really say yes to a total stranger?
Lena checked her watch for the third time in a minute. Late. Again.
She exhaled sharply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she strode down the boutique hotel’s hallway.
The air smelled of fresh lilies, their floral sharpness mixed with the faintest trace of citrus and polished wood.
It was the kind of scent that clung to weddings—the kind that brought memories of champagne toasts, aching feet in high heels, and teary speeches that went on too long.
A fitting reminder, considering her best friend had gotten married last week.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena reached the elevator and jabbed the button, as if sheer determination could speed up the machinery.
She bounced on her heels, fingers tapping anxiously against the strap of her bag.
The soft chime of the elevator arriving barely registered in her brain before she darted inside.
Just as the doors started closing, a blur of movement caught her eye. A man lunged in after her, his shoulder bumping into hers as her suitcase wobbled dangerously.
“Sorry—” he started, a breathless chuckle in his voice. He straightened, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from his crisp suit.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena barely spared him a glance. “No worries.”
And then, everything stopped.
The elevator jerked violently. The lights flickered once, twice, then steadied. The hum of movement vanished.
Lena’s stomach clenched. A thick, loaded silence filled the small space.
She pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing.
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, pressing her palm against the cool metal doors as if she could will them open.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Beside her, the man let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. “Classic. Always when you’re in a rush.”
Lena finally turned to him fully. Sharp blue eyes. Tousled blond hair. A suit that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.
A Hallmark movie hero, if she’d ever seen one.
“I take it you have somewhere important to be?” he asked, his lips quirking in amusement.
“A dinner with a friend,” she muttered. “She got married last week. We planned this before I leave town.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Ah,” he nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Funny coincidence. The wedding I’m going to is tomorrow.”
Lena blinked. “Wait. You’re—”
“Dylan.” He extended a hand, palm up, as if this was the most normal introduction in the world. “Groom’s best friend. And emergency wedding date seeker.”
Before she could even process that, the intercom crackled overhead.
“Uh, folks? Seems like we’ve got a small power outage affecting the elevators. We’re working on it. Might take a bit.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena closed her eyes briefly. “Perfect.”
Dylan chuckled. “Look on the bright side. At least we’re not alone in here.”
She shot him a look. “Right. Because being stuck with a stranger is somehow better than being stuck alone.”
He shrugged, flashing a lazy grin. “Depends on the stranger, doesn’t it?”
They stood in awkward silence for a moment. The hum of hotel activity beyond the metal doors felt distant, as if they were suspended in time.
Then, out of nowhere, Dylan asked, “So, any chance you’re up for a second wedding in a week?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena turned to him slowly, brow raised. “Excuse me?”
“I need a date for the wedding.” He smirked, leaning against the wall like this was just another casual conversation.
“My ex is going to be there, and I’d rather not be the guy sitting alone at the singles table. Think of it as a fake date for a noble cause.”
Lena let out a short laugh. Was this guy serious?
“You’re really asking a total stranger to be your plus-one while we’re trapped in an elevator?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan shrugged, completely unbothered. “So, is it a yes or a no?”
Lena never thought she’d actually go through with it.
The whole thing had sounded ridiculous—a fake date with a man she barely knew, just to help him save face at a wedding. And yet, here she was.
She smoothed her hands down the fabric of her red dress, the one she had almost left hanging in the back of her suitcase.
It wasn’t her usual style—too bold, too eye-catching, too much.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But something about tonight made her want to be someone else, even if just for a few hours.
Dylan stood beside her, a glass of champagne in one hand, his other resting lightly on the small of her back. Steady, effortless, completely at ease. Unlike her.
She forced a polite smile as yet another guest approached, throwing curious glances her way.
Weddings were strange like that—everyone wanted to know who you were, why you were there, if your presence meant something.
Dylan, on the other hand, played the part perfectly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He leaned down, murmuring in her ear, “That woman in the blue dress has been trying to figure out if we’re engaged for the past ten minutes.”
Lena barely stopped herself from laughing. “Should I flash a fake ring just to mess with her?”
His eyes twinkled. “Tempting. But then I’d have to plan an even faker proposal.”
They moved through the ballroom like they had done this a hundred times before—his touch easy, his words charming, his smile like a safety net.
And then there was the dance.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The moment his fingers laced with hers, the moment he guided her into a slow, fluid rhythm, Lena forgot for a second that this wasn’t real.
His grip was firm but gentle, the kind that told her to trust him. The warmth of his palm against her waist sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.
This was pretend. She knew that. But something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made it too easy to forget.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As the bride and groom swayed in the center of the dance floor, Lena tilted her head up. “So, tell me,” she murmured, “what’s the deal with this ex of yours?”
Dylan took a sip of champagne, and for the first time all night, his smile flickered. Just for a second.
“Maya,” he said, rolling the name on his tongue like it was still a part of him. “We dated for a while. Things got… complicated.”
Lena raised a brow. “Complicated how?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking down to the golden liquid swirling in his glass. “She thought I wasn’t serious enough. That I didn’t have time for her.”
“And did you?”
Dylan paused, then let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe not. But I was trying.”
Before Lena could respond, someone called Dylan’s name.
She turned just in time to see her.
Maya.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who she was.
Tall. Poised. Beautiful in that effortless way that made other women feel like they were trying too hard.
Her presence filled the room with a quiet kind of power—like she knew she belonged anywhere she went.
And when she reached Dylan, she hugged him.
Not a casual, polite hug. Not an awkward, we-used-to-date hug.
Something in between. Something that made Lena’s chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t have.
She wasn’t supposed to care. This wasn’t real.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And yet, it sure as hell felt like it was.
The reception was in full swing—laughter, clinking glasses, music that vibrated through the floor—but Lena barely heard any of it.
Her fingers gripped the stem of her champagne glass a little too tightly as she watched Dylan and Maya across the room.
Too close. Too familiar. Too much. Their voices were low, their expressions unreadable. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t for her to hear.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And yet, she couldn’t look away.
This was supposed to be a game. A favor. A night of harmless pretending. But now, her stomach twisted, and she hated the feeling.
A shadow moved beside her. “Everything okay?”
Dylan.
Lena blinked, dragging her gaze from Maya. She forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “Great. You and Maya catching up?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan’s frown was subtle but there. “Not really. She just wanted to check in.”
Check in. Right.
“Lena,” he started, voice softer now, careful. “You know this isn’t—”
“Not real?” she cut in, her heart hammering. “Yeah. I know.”
The words felt wrong.
She swallowed hard. She needed to leave before she made a fool of herself.
“Thanks for the night, Dylan,” she said, turning on her heel. “But I think I’m done playing pretend.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And then, she walked away.
Lena had her bag packed before the sun had fully risen. She had spent the night convincing herself that walking away was the right choice. No messy feelings. No unnecessary complications. Just a clean break.
But as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped into the hotel lobby, her chest felt heavier than it should. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. Maybe it was something else.
She headed toward the café, craving caffeine and distraction, but fate had other plans.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She turned the corner too fast, and suddenly—collision.
Hot coffee sloshed dangerously close to her dress as Dylan stumbled back, gripping his cup to stop the spill.
“Lena?” His voice was a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable.
She cursed under her breath. Of course. Of course, she had to run into him now.
“I was just—” she started, but Dylan wasn’t buying it.
“Leaving?” His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, searching. “Without saying anything?”
Lena exhaled, torn between pride and something that felt a lot like longing. “It was just supposed to be a one-time thing, right?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan was silent for a beat, then let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough. “That’s what I thought, too.” He hesitated, then took a step closer. “Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”
Lena’s pulse stumbled. “What?”
“Last night,” he said, his voice softer now, steady, “I watched you walk away, and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want you to go.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her heart thudded against her ribs. “Dylan—”
“I don’t care about Maya,” he cut in, his tone firm, certain. “I don’t care about anyone else. I care about you.”
Lena wanted to believe him. But doubt—fear—clawed at her. “What if this is just—”
“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, seeing right through her hesitation. “You feel it, too. Don’t you?”
She swallowed hard.
Yes.
Yes, she did.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
So, for once, she stopped overthinking.
She stepped forward, reached up, and kissed him.
A kiss that was warm. Real. Nothing like pretending.
Dylan smiled against her lips. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”
Lena laughed softly. “Maybe. But only if you promise to stop getting us stuck in elevators.”
Dylan chuckled, his hand slipping easily around her waist. “No guarantees.”
And with that, Lena finally let herself fall.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
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