When Lexie’s mom surprises her with an expensive and meaningful graduation present, she is truly over the moon. Like any teenager, she takes to social media to talk about her gift and how grateful she is. But soon, Lexie’s absent father tries to claim that he bought her the elaborate gift. Soon, his lie begins to unravel punlicly…
My father was a ghost long before I even understood what it meant. He walked out on us when I was five, and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard from him since. No birthdays, no calls, and not a dime of child support.
Nice, right?
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
But my mom? She’s been my everything. And it’s been the two of us against the world, and somehow, she has always made it work. And honestly, this woman has sacrificed so much to give me a shot at everything I’ve ever wanted to pursue. Out of all the things that I’ve wanted to try my hand at, music was my absolute love.
Music had always been my escape. Especially the piano. My mom had enrolled me in lessons when I was little, and from then on, I was just hooked. My dream was to compose my own music, but for me to do that I needed a professional-grade digital piano.
A little girl playing the piano | Source: Midjourney
The problem?
Those things are expensive. Like proper, expensive.
And while mom and I weren’t living in poverty, we weren’t exactly rolling in cash, either. Being a single mom and a nurse, my mother went out of her way to ensure that I could keep playing. Recently she had started working extra shifts wherever possible, cutting corners where she could, just so that I could keep playing.
More than that, even though she came home exhausted, she never complained about the long hours or the money. My mom simply believed in me.
A smiling nurse | Source: Midjourney
“Lexie,” she would say. “You’re just seventeen. And to have found something that you’re so passionate about at your age is amazing. Not to mention that you have real talent here, it’s not just a whim. You have a dream and you can get to it. I’ll do everything I can to help you achieve it.”
Fast forward to graduation.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t expecting anything other than a cake, which was our tradition at the end of every school year. I knew how hard my mom worked just to keep everything going, and there was no way I’d want anything else from her.
“I’m serious, Mom,” I said one night over dinner. “I don’t want anything for graduation. I promise you, I understand the situation and I’m more than grateful for your support.”
“Oh, darling,” she said, giving me a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “I’m your mother, it’s my job.”
A bowl of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney
“I know, but I want you to know that I don’t expect anything,” I said.
We went to my graduation ceremony, and my mother bawled her eyes out when it was my turn to walk the stage.
“My darling girl,” my mother said after the ceremony as she enveloped me in a tight hug. “I am so proud of you!”
A teenager in her graduation gown and flowers | Source: Midjourney
The real surprise came when I walked into our home that afternoon. There it was, my dream piano.
A high-end digital piano, complete with every feature that I needed to start composing. I couldn’t believe it. I actually cried.
It wasn’t about the piano itself, it was about how much my mother sacrificed for my dreams.
Naturally, I posted about it on social media because I was over the moon. I tagged my mom because she was the one who dreamed and inspired me. I wrote a long heartfelt caption about how she was truly the best mom in the world.
A keyboard with a pink bow | Source: Midjourney
My post got tons of likes and comments, and honestly, I was just happy to share this moment with my mother. She deserved all the credit.
“Mom, I don’t know what to say,” I told her that evening as we sat outside on the porch together.
“Baby girl, I told you. I’m your mother, this is my job,” she said.
A mother and daughter duo sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney
Then, a few days later, something weird happened.
I got a text from one of my dad’s old friends. He was someone I hadn’t heard from in years. He congratulated me on graduating and then casually mentioned how generous my dad was for buying me such an amazing gift.
My stomach dropped immediately.
“What?” I muttered.
A teenager holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
At first, I thought that he must have been confused. But then I saw the post that made it all make sense.
My dad, the same man who hadn’t shown up for my graduation or acknowledged my existence in years, had re-posted my story on socials.
Onto his own page!
And of course, he captioned it like it was his moment. Like he had bought me the piano and had been the supportive dad all along.
A phone opened to social media | Source: Midjourney
So proud of little girl! I’ve always believed in your dreams. This is just the beginning!
I was shocked. The actual nerve of this man was insane.
I just stared at the screen in shock. This was a guy who hadn’t paid a cent in child support, who hadn’t called to check in. Even when I was twelve and I fell off a tree and had broken my arm? My mother had told him, but he didn’t bother to see me at the hospital or after.
“I just want him to sign my cast,” I remember telling my mother.
“I know, Lex,” my mother said, rubbing my arm. “But he doesn’t seem to care.”
A little girl with her arm in a cast | Source: Midjourney
So this? This was absurd.
“This man needs to pay child support,” I muttered.
But I didn’t know how to go about it. I didn’t want to embarrass him on socials because I couldn’t risk rocking the boat before those payments were settled.
Still, I was fuming inside, waiting for the day his lies would catch up to him.
A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney
Turns out, karma was already in motion.
About two weeks later, my mom and I went to a community event. It was one of those things where everyone in town shows up because it was a charity event to raise funds for the community theater.
At one point, we were chatting with a group of people, when a random guy came forward to talk to us. He started talking to my mom like they were old friends, and then he turned to me.
A crowd of people | Source: Midjourney
“Lexie!” he said excitedly. “I’m Ralph, I work with your dad! That’s how I recognized you, he’s been posting photos of you recently. He’s very proud. And that piano he got you for graduation? Wow! That was a real show of support, huh? You’re a lucky young lady.”
I felt my mom tense next to me. She didn’t even blink.
“Oh, you must be terribly mistaken, Ralph. My ex-husband hasn’t paid child support in years. He had nothing to do with the piano or any part of his daughter’s life, really.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, we’re looking at outstanding child support for about what, Mom? Thirteen years now?” I said.
The man’s face went from smug to confused.
“I’m sorry… what?” he said.
My mom didn’t let up though.
“The piano was a gift from me. I’ve been working extra hours to make sure that my daughter has everything she needs for her music career. Her father didn’t contribute at all.”
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
Poor Ralph just stood there, speechless.
It turns out that this man wasn’t just my dad’s coworker. He was my dad’s boss.
My dad had been spinning this tale for months, talking about how he was this amazing, supportive father who did everything for his daughter.
Well, not anymore.
A smiling man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney
The look on Ralph’s face told me everything that I needed to know: my father was done for. His lies had caught up with him.
Not long after, he was let go because Ralph said that he couldn’t trust him at all. He was also hit with years’ worth of payments he’d been dodging, and there was no escaping it.
The courts were involved now, and he had no choice but to pay up.
A close up of an angry man | Source: Midjourney
As for me?
I’ve been spending every spare minute on that piano, composing music that I know will make my mom proud. After all, she’s the one who’s always been there, the one who truly believed in me from day one. And soon, I’ll be going off to college to study music, too.
And my dad?
Well, he learned that pretending to be a parent is a lot harder than actually being one.
A teenager playing on a keyboard | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Father Skipped My Graduation to Take His Stepson to the Zoo – I Taught Him a Good Lesson
When Michael’s father misses his graduation to take his stepson, Tommy, to the zoo, Michael wants to teach him a lesson. After years of being sidelined, Michael finally retaliates. He plans a graduation dinner with the intention to expose his father, but then, things take a turn…
As I watched my classmates hug their families on graduation day, the absence of my father, Henry, cast a long shadow on what should have been one of the happiest days of my life.
A graduation cap and degree | Source: Pexels
Ever since my parents’ divorce when I was ten, Dad had built a new life with Sandra and her young son, Tommy.
It was good—I wanted my father to be happy. He deserved it. Because as much as he and Mom tried, they just weren’t compatible anymore. I needed them to be apart so that they could co-exist for me.
A divorce agreement | Source: Pexels
But then, when Dad and Sandra got together, he entered a new chapter—one that seemed to include everyone but me.
Initially, things weren’t so bad, but as my father grew closer to Tommy, he began to play a bigger role in his life. He consistently missed the milestones that marked my childhood journey—my science fair victories, my soccer finals, even several birthdays.
A father carrying his son | Source: Pexels
Each absence was attributed to something involving Tommy—a school play, a baseball game, or just a day out—leaving me to celebrate or commiserate without him.
I met with my father a week before the graduation—we were having lunch at a diner, something that he still tried to keep going, even when his life got busy.
A tray of burger and fries | Source: Pexels
“I’ll be at your graduation, Michael,” my father said. “I’ll wear a suit and tie and be there, in the front row with your mom. This is a big moment in your life and I love you. Of course, I’ll be there.”
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.
Pregnant Taxi Driver Takes a Homeless Man to the Hospital — Next Morning She Sees a Motorcade of SUVs Outside Her Window
A heavily pregnant taxi driver offers a homeless and injured stranger a free ride to the hospital on a rainy night. The next morning, she wakes up to a parade of SUVs outside her house. Suited men knock on her door with a truth that alters her life forever.
After two years behind the wheel, Cleo had seen every kind of passenger a taxi could carry: the 3 a.m. party crowds stumbling over their feet, families racing to catch flights, and guilty-looking businessmen who reeked of cocktails and bad decisions. She’d heard every story, dried more than a few tears, and learned to read people before they even opened her cab door.
A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash
The yellow cab’s headlights cut through the November fog as Cleo guided her taxi down the empty streets of downtown that night.
Her back ached and the baby seemed determined to practice gymnastics against her ribs. At eight months pregnant, her night shift was getting harder. But bills don’t pay themselves, right?
“Just a few more hours, my love,” she whispered, rubbing her swollen belly. “Then we can go home to Chester.”
The baby kicked in response, making her smile despite everything. Chester, her orange tabby, was probably sprawled across her pillow at home, shedding orange fur everywhere. These days, that cat was the closest thing Cleo had as a family.
A tabby cat sitting on a table | Source: Unsplash
The mention of home brought unwanted memories flooding back. Five months ago, she’d bounded up those same stairs to their apartment, her heart racing with excitement.
She’d planned everything perfectly — the candle-lit dinner, her husband Mark’s favorite lasagna, the little pair of baby shoes she’d wrapped in silver paper.
“We’re having a baby, honey!” she’d said, sliding the package across the table.
A woman holding tiny baby shoes | Source: Freepik
Mark had stared at the shoes, his face draining of color. The silence stretched until Cleo couldn’t bear it.
“Say something.”
“I can’t do this, Cleo.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“Jessica’s pregnant too. With my child. Three months along.”
The candles had burned low as Cleo’s world collapsed. Jessica. His secretary. The woman he’d sworn was “just a friend.”
An upset man | Source: Pexels
“How long were you cheating on me?”
“Does it matter?”
It hadn’t, really. Within a week, Mark was gone. Within two, he’d cleaned out their joint account. Now, at 32, Cleo worked double shifts, trying to save enough for when the baby arrived.
“Your father might have forgotten about us,” she whispered to her bump, forcing back tears as she snapped back to the moment, “but we’re gonna make it. You’ll see.”
A teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash
But that night, just three weeks before her due date, with her ankles swollen and her maternity uniform straining against her belly, Cleo encountered something different.
The clock read 11:43 p.m. when she spotted him — a lone figure stumbling along the highway’s shoulder.
Through the haze of street lamps and drizzling rain, he emerged like a ghost from the shadows of 42nd Street. Even from a distance, something about him made her pulse quicken.
Silhouette of a man on the road at night | Source: Pexels
His clothes hung in dirty tatters and his dark hair plastered his face in wet ropes. He cradled one arm against his chest, dragging his right leg as he stumbled along the empty sidewalk.
Cleo’s hand instinctively moved to her rounded belly as she watched the man through the windshield. She should have been home an hour ago, curled up with Chester, who always purred against her stomach as if serenading the baby.
But something about this man’s desperation, the way he swayed with each step as if fighting to stay upright, made her grip her steering wheel tighter instead of driving away.
Night shot of a shocked woman driving a car | Source: Freepik
In her two years of driving nights, Cleo had learned to spot trouble. And everything about this scene screamed danger.
Through the fog, she made out more details. He was a young guy, maybe mid-20s, in what had once been expensive clothes.
He clutched his right arm, and even in the dim light, she could see dark crimson stains on his sleeve. His face was a mess of bruises, one eye swollen shut.
Grayscale shot of a man on a sidewalk | Source: Pexels
A car appeared in her rearview mirror, moving fast. The man’s head snapped up, terror written across his face. He tried to run but stumbled.
“Don’t do it, Cleo,” she whispered. “Not tonight. Not when you’re eight months pregnant.”
But she was already pulling over.
Rolling down her window just a crack, she called out, “You okay? Need help?”
The stranger jerked around, his eyes wide with fear. Sweat fused in dark crimson trickled from a cut above his eyebrow. “I just need to get somewhere safe.”
A terrified man’s eyes | Source: Unsplash
The approaching car’s engine roared louder.
“Get in!” Cleo unlocked the doors. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”
The guy climbed in and collapsed into the backseat as Cleo hit the gas. The pursuing car’s headlights flooded her mirror.
“They’re still coming,” he panted, ducking low. “Thank you. Most wouldn’t stop.”
Cleo’s heart hammered. “Hold on.”
A startled woman sitting in a car | Source: Freepik
She took a sharp right, then another, weaving through side streets she knew by heart. The car behind them kept pace.
“Who are they?” she asked, taking another sharp turn that made her passenger grab the door handle.
“Faster… faster. They’ll catch us…”
A second set of headlights appeared ahead. They were being boxed in.
View of headlights of a car approaching in the distance | Source: Pexels
“Trust me?” Cleo asked, already turning the wheel.
“What?”
She cut through an abandoned parking lot, scraping under a partially lowered gate. The pursuing cars couldn’t follow and the gap was barely big enough for her taxi.
“Two years of dodging drunk passengers who don’t want to pay,” she explained, checking her mirror. No headlights. “Never thought those skills would come in handy tonight.”
The baby kicked hard, making her wince.
An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels
“You’re pregnant,” the stranger said, noticing her discomfort. “God, I’m so sorry. I’ve put you both in danger.”
“Sometimes the biggest risk is doing nothing.” She met his eyes in the mirror. “I’m Cleo.”
“Thank you, Cleo. Most people… they would’ve just ignored me.”
“Yeah, well, most people haven’t learned how quickly life can change.”
After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at the hospital. Before stepping out, the man grabbed her arm gently.
A hospital | Source: Pexels
“Why did you stop?” His good eye studied her face.
“The world’s not exactly kind to taxi drivers these days, especially not pregnant ones working alone at night.”
Cleo thought about it. “This morning, I watched a woman step over a homeless man having a seizure. Didn’t even pause her phone call. I promised myself I wouldn’t become that person… someone so scared of the world that they forget their humanity.”
A homeless man lying on the street | Source: Pexels
He nodded slowly. “You didn’t have to do this. Because what you did tonight… it’s beyond your understanding.”
Cleo hesitated for a moment, her eyes meeting his. She gave a small, reassuring smile.
With that, she turned and walked toward her waiting taxi. As she stepped inside, she glanced back one last time, whispering, “What did he mean?”
A woman driving a car on a busy road | Source: Unsplash
The rest of the night was a blur. Cleo went home, had a simple dinner, and fed her cat. But her mind was a jumbled mess, replaying the events of the night as she drifted off to sleep.
A loud rumble of engines jolted her awake from her sleep the next morning. Chester abandoned his spot on her pillow, his fur standing on end as if he were cornered by the neighbor’s dog.
“What is it, Chester?” Cleo fought her way out of bed and froze at the window.
A woman looking out the window | Source: Pexels
A motorcade of sleek black SUVs, at least a dozen, lined her modest street. Men in dark suits and earpieces moved with military precision, setting up a perimeter around her house.
“Oh God. Who are these men? Had I helped a criminal last night?” Cleo gasped.
A knock interrupted her racing thoughts. Peering through the peephole, she saw three men. One was sharply dressed in an expensive suit, another wore an earpiece, and the third was eerily familiar.
Cars on a road | Source: Pixabay
“No way,” she whispered, recognizing the stranger from the previous night.
Gone were the torn clothes and crimson stains, replaced by an impeccable suit that probably cost more than her monthly fare.
She opened the door with trembling hands.
A young man in a crisp suit | Source: Pexels
“Ma’am!” the first man bowed slightly. “I’m James, head of security for the Atkinson family. This is Mr. Atkinson and his son, Archie, whom you helped last night.”
The world tilted. The Atkinsons — the billionaire family whose tech empire dominated headlines. Their son had been kidnapped three days ago, the ransom set at 50 million.
And she’d picked him up on the side of the road.
A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
“They had me for three days,” Archie explained, perched on her worn couch while Chester sniffed his shoes. “When they moved me last night, I saw my chance to escape at the gas station. But they were close. If you hadn’t stopped—”
“The men pursuing you,” his father added, “were captured an hour after you dropped Archie at the hospital. Your quick thinking didn’t just save my son, it helped us catch a dangerous kidnapping ring.”
Mr. Atkinson then held out an envelope. Inside was a check that made Cleo’s legs go weak.
A smiling rich older man | Source: Freepik
“Sir, this is too much. I can’t—”
“It’s nothing compared to what you did,” he smiled gently. “Consider it an investment in both your futures!” he said, glancing at her belly. “No child should start life wondering how their mother will provide for them.”
Tears spilled down Cleo’s cheeks as Chester jumped onto Archie’s lap, purring loudly.
“There’s more,” Archie added, leaning forward. “We want you to run our foundation’s new community safety initiative. The world needs more people who aren’t afraid to stop and help. People like you, Cleo.”
An emotional, teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels
“If you ever need anything, please call us,” Mr. Atkinson said, handing a business card, his voice soft with sincerity and gratitude. “We’re forever indebted to you.”
Cleo smiled and a weak, “Thank you!” escaped her lips as tears of joy and relief filled her eyes.
As they left, she felt the weight of the past few months lift. For the first time since Mark walked out, she allowed herself to believe things might just turn out to be okay.
Cleo looked down at her belly, smiling through her tears. “Heard that, little one? Looks like Mommy’s night job just got an upgrade. And we did it by just being human!”
A pregnant woman holding her belly | Source: Unsplash
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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