New 1673

My Dad Replaced My Mom with My Best Friend – I Made Him Taste His Own Medicine

When Hannah’s Dad waltzed into her birthday party with her best friend on his arm, she was determined to make him pay. Little did he know Hannah’s plan would unexpectedly turn the tables at her graduation party.

Serious woman and birthday cake | Source: Midjourney

Serious woman and birthday cake | Source: Midjourney

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” Dad said, but his words barely registered.

The room was full of balloons and banners, but everything started feeling suddenly wrong.

“What’s the fuss?” he asked, noticing people staring.

I couldn’t believe it was happening. Dad had walked into my 25th birthday party with my best friend, Jessica, as his plus one.

Older man with young woman | Source: Midjourney

Older man with young woman | Source: Midjourney

“What is Jess doing with you?” I asked as soon as I recovered from the shock.

“What do you mean?” he chuckled. “We’re together, in love!”

“Are you serious? Mom is here, and everyone is watching us!”

He shrugged. “So what? I don’t care what she or anyone else feels; it’s her problem. This is MY LIFE. I want to have fun.”

Couple looking into each other's eyes | Source: Midjourney

Couple looking into each other’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

I glanced at Mom, standing alone with tears streaming down her face. She just turned and went inside, and I couldn’t stand that.

“If I knew you would do something like this, I would’ve never invited you!” I snapped, turning to Dad. “And you, Jess, how could you do this? You were my best friend!”

“I’m sorry, Hannah. But it sounds like a YOU problem if you can’t accept this.”

I was shocked.

“Leave!” I said. “Just get out! Both of you!”

Smug-looking woman | Source: Midjourney

Smug-looking woman | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, Hannah, you’re overreacting,” Dad scoffed. “It’s not like your Mom and I are together, and I brought someone new into our lives.”

“No, I’m not overreacting, Dad, and I don’t want to talk about this. You need to leave. This party is for me and Mom. And this is Mom’s house.”

“Fine, we’ll go.”

I watched as Dad walked out, and then I returned to Mom and hugged her tightly. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they’d—”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Thank you,” was all she said.

Sad woman among party guests | Source: Midjourney

Sad woman among party guests | Source: Midjourney

It was hard for me to believe what had happened, but all I cared about was the faces of the other guests staring at my mom in pity and disbelief. I hated the way they were looking at Mom as if she were some helpless woman.

A week passed.

One Sunday morning, Mom and I sat on the couch in her cozy living room, sipping tea.

Two cups of tea | Source: Midjourney

Two cups of tea | Source: Midjourney

I loved our little sessions where it was just the two of us. Usually, we’d bake one of Grandma’s recipes, but looking at Mom’s face, I knew she was still not over what had happened.

Dad and Mom had divorced only recently, and I know Mom still missed him. So, what happened on my birthday still bothered her.

“I’m really looking forward to graduation next month, Mom,” I said, trying to lift the mood. “It’s a big milestone for me.”

Woman wearing graduation hat | Source: Midjourney

Woman wearing graduation hat | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, I’m so proud of you, Hannah,” Mom smiled, her eyes shining with pride. “You’ve worked so hard for this day.

“It’s just that… seeing Jessica with your father was hard,” she suddenly said, sighing sadly. “She’ll be graduating too, right?”

I reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

“Yes, Mom. It was terrible. But you’re stronger than this. You deserve better.”

Sad elderly woman | Source: Midjourney

Sad elderly woman | Source: Midjourney

Mom looked at me, tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s just so hard, Hannah. I never expected this from Jessica. She-she was like a daughter, and now this…imagining them in bed…”

Mom broke down into tears, and I raced to her side to hug her.

“Your dad…” she sniffled. “What did he tell me when he was leaving? You’re too old, Caroline. You don’t excite me anymore. Oh, Hannah, how could he do this?”

Young woman consoling an older woman | Source: Midjourney

Young woman consoling an older woman | Source: Midjourney

Mom wept into my shoulders, and I can’t tell you how it broke my heart.

“I didn’t either, Mom,” I said, trying my best to console her. “But we won’t let them hurt us anymore. You’re not alone in this. We’ll get through it together, okay?”

Mom was very disturbed after what happened at my birthday party, and I had a plan to set things right. It’s just that I couldn’t tell Mom about it right then.

Devastated elderly woman | Source: Midjourney

Devastated elderly woman | Source: Midjourney

The following Thursday morning, I walked into the cozy café near the university, bustling with students and professionals.

The smell of coffee and chatter filled the air.

I spotted Tom at a corner table and waved.

Inside a cafe | Source: Midjourney

Inside a cafe | Source: Midjourney

I remembered Tom from when I was young. He was one of Dad’s colleagues, always nice and kind. He used to visit us often, but then we moved across town, and those visits stopped. Seeing his familiar face brought back memories.

“Hi, Tom,” I said as I sat down. “It’s good to see you.”

“Wow, Hannah! You’ve grown up!” he chuckled. “It’s good to see you too. How are things?” he asked.

Young woman talking to older man at cafe | Source: Midjourney

Young woman talking to older man at cafe | Source: Midjourney

“Busy, but exciting. Graduation is just around the corner,” I replied.

A week ago, when I contacted Tom on Facebook, I wasn’t very hopeful he would reply. But somehow, his name was the first to pop into my head, and I just gave it a try.

Luckily, he replied.

“By the way, I thought about your idea,” he said as I sipped my coffee. “I’m okay with that. Will your Mom agree?”

Woman drinking coffee | Source: Midjourney

Woman drinking coffee | Source: Midjourney

“She will. Thanks. I appreciate all your help,” I said sincerely.

“You’re welcome, Hannah. Your mom deserves better, and so do you,” he replied.

We chatted about various things, recalling some sweet memories of when I was a little girl and Tom used to get me princess dolls. He was just the sweetest man from my childhood, and I had a brilliant plan brewing at the back of my mind.

A cute girl | Source: Midjourney

A cute girl | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t realize how time flew by and the graduation day arrived.

I stood in Mom’s bedroom, surrounded by elegant dresses and makeup.

Mom held up a beautiful dress, and I nodded approvingly.

“I can’t believe my baby is graduating,” she said, zipping up my dress. “You look stunning, Hannah.”

Older woman helping younger woman get ready | Source: Midjourney

Older woman helping younger woman get ready | Source: Midjourney

“Thanks, Mom. You look amazing, too. Tonight’s going to be special,” I replied, smiling.

Mom had put on a shimmering navy blue dress that hugged her figure gracefully. Her hair was styled in soft waves, and she wore delicate silver jewelry that complemented her look perfectly.

“I hope your dad behaves himself tonight,” she said, wearing her earrings.

Gorgeous older woman | Source: Midjourney

Gorgeous older woman | Source: Midjourney

“Don’t worry about him, Mom. Just focus on having a good time. Everything will be fine,” I assured her.

Mom smiled, but I could see the worry in her eyes.

I squeezed her hand. “Really, Mom. Enjoy tonight. You deserve it. I’m so happy for you.”

“I will, sweetie. Thank you,” she said, giving me a warm hug.

Mother and daughter hugging | Source: Midjourney

Mother and daughter hugging | Source: Midjourney

I looked in the mirror, adjusting my dress and makeup. “Now, I gotta leave. See you soon,” I said, grabbing my bag.

“Alright, Hannah. See you there,” Mom replied, giving me a quick kiss.

As I left the house, I took a deep breath. The plan was set, and I felt ready. I knew tonight had to be perfect, not just for me but for Mom, too. This was our night, and I wouldn’t let anything ruin it.

Woman in graduation attire standing with other graduates | Source: Midjourney

Woman in graduation attire standing with other graduates | Source: Midjourney

When I arrived at the graduation hall, I took one last look in the mirror and straightened my cap and gown.

The room buzzed with excitement as graduates and their families filled the seats.

I scanned the crowd and spotted Dad arriving with Jessica. They looked confident, but I knew that would change soon.

Young girl in graduation attire posing with older man | Source: Midjourney

Young girl in graduation attire posing with older man | Source: Midjourney

About 15 minutes later, Mom entered the auditorium with Tom. She looked stunning, and Tom looked dapper in a suit.

Seeing them together made me smile. They waved at me, and I waved back.

I could see shock clouding Dad and Jessica’s faces when they saw Mom happy with a guy about five years younger than her!

“Thanks for making it, Tom. Mom, you look gorgeous!” I said, hugging her.

Good-looking couple | Source: Midjourney

Good-looking couple | Source: Midjourney

It was then Dad’s voice cut through.

“Tom? What are you doing here?”

We turned to see him with Jessica behind him.

Tom put an arm around Mom. “Supporting a dear friend and her daughter,” he said.

Happy couple | Source: Midjourney

Happy couple | Source: Midjourney

“Didn’t you mention he was your colleague? How did this happen?” I heard Jessica whispering to Dad, and I couldn’t help but smile because my plan was successful.

“Well, Mom and Tom have been catching up lately. They realized they have a lot in common,” I said, grinning.

Dad looked flustered. “I see,” he said. “Well, it’s… nice to see you, Tom.”

Serious-looking man | Source: Midjourney

Serious-looking man | Source: Midjourney

Tom smirked slightly. “Nice to see you too, Robert. Life takes interesting turns, doesn’t it?”

As the evening went on, Mom and Tom looked genuinely happy together. They laughed and danced, looking like a perfect couple. Jessica tried to keep up appearances, but her discomfort was evident.

Dad couldn’t hide his frustration either. His eyes kept darting towards Mom and Tom, and I could see the wheels turning in his head.

Couple looking happy together | Source: Midjourney

Couple looking happy together | Source: Midjourney

Before leaving, Mom hugged me tightly. “Thank you for everything, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too, Mom,” I said, smiling. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

As I watched Mom walk away with Tom, I knew Dad regretted his choices. He realized too late that he had lost the best thing in his life. I also saw he pushed Jess away when she asked him for a dance, and I laughed.

My plan to show Dad that Mom could be happy without him worked perfectly. Mom and Tom fell in love and are now together. I couldn’t be happier for her.

A happy family | Source: Midjourney

A happy family | Source: Midjourney

3 Stories of Children’s Secrets That Transformed Their Families Forever

Family secrets often hide beneath the surface, shaping relationships in unexpected ways. Unraveling these mysteries can lead to profound revelations and emotional journeys. In this collection, we explore three compelling stories where hidden truths come to light, forever altering the lives of those involved.

From a newfound friend that changes River’s routine at school to a pair of blue shoes Paige notices in the background of her husband’s photo, and a secret box Emma discovered in her father’s drawer, these tales highlight the enduring power of love, the sting of betrayal, and the unbreakable ties that bind families together.

My 4-Year-Old Daughter Started Drawing Dark Pictures after Accidentally Discovering Her Dad’s Secret
When her daughter exhibits unusual behavior, Jennifer questions everything. Eventually, Emma tells her the truth — that she found a box of her father’s secrets.

My daughter, Emma, has always been the rainbow child, wearing the brightest colors and drawing unicorns and butterflies.

But recently, there has been a change in her behavior. She’s been withdrawn, hasn’t been eating properly, and always wants to sit outside.

At first, I didn’t think much about it because Emma constantly goes through phases. But then, her teacher, Mrs Silverton, called me in for a parent-teacher meeting. She was just in kindergarten, but the school prided itself on checking in with parents.

“I didn’t want to alarm you, Jennifer, but there’s something concerning going on with Emma.”

She pulled out a yellow file and showed me a series of drawings by Emma — all dark and shadowy, menacing even.

I drove home from the school in silence. I knew that something was different with Emma, but I didn’t think it was that bad.

Later, while I made noodles for our dinner, I decided to talk to Emma about it.

“Sweetheart,” I said. “I went in to see Mrs Silverton today.”

“Really? Why?” she asked curiously.

“She spoke about the new drawings you’ve been doing and how different they are from the usual ones.”

She looked at her bowl of noodles, twirling her fork through it — her response was silence.

Finally, she spilled the beans.

“I found Daddy’s secret,” she said quietly.

“What secret, honey?” I asked her.

“Come, I’ll show you, Momma,” she said, jumping up from the table.

William, my husband, lives with Emma and me only part-time because of his job. Sometimes, he must work away from home, and traveling always gets to him. So, he decided to rent an apartment for when he worked away.

When Emma led me to William’s home office, I wondered what my daughter had discovered.

I watched as she went to William’s desk and opened the top drawer, taking out an old box.

“I saw this when I came looking for crayons,” she said.

Emma gave me the box before bolting to her room.

The moment I glimpsed inside, my entire world crumbled.

Inside were photos — images of William hugging another woman and a set of three beautiful children, aged between two and seven years old.

My emotions somersaulted from shock to betrayal to raw heartbreak.

Beneath the photos was a little notebook with numbers scribbled in them. It seemed like a replica of my notebook in my handbag with all the emergency numbers ready.

I knew that I needed to confront William but I didn’t know how to deal with the entirety of the situation. I just knew that Emma needed some stability. It was affecting her already.

I returned everything to the box and stored it on the desk.

As I left the room, I found Emma standing in the hallway, her eyes wide with worry and confusion.

“Let’s get you to bed,” I said. “I promise you, everything is going to be just fine.”

I dropped Emma off at school and then went back home. I took another look at the small book and called Mia, the woman in the photographs. I pretended to be their son’s teacher.

As betrayed as I felt, everything was seamless, thanks to William’s little notebook.

“Hang on,” Mia told me. “Speak to husband, William.”

I heard William’s voice on the phone, confirming my worst fears. I hung up immediately.

As the hours dragged on and the time to pick Emma up edged closer, I needed to do something. I needed some answers before I looked at Emma’s precious little face.

I picked up the phone again, called Mia, and told her everything.

She was just as shocked as I was and revealed that she didn’t know about Emma and me.

Next, I called my lawyer — I needed to end my marriage to William. Emma deserved better. Mia deserved better, and so did her children. I deserved better, too.

A few weeks passed, and Mia came over — we sat and spoke for hours and uncovered the truth — William had just used the both of us, keeping our families in different towns to keep us from finding out about each other.

My lawyer took over for Mia and me, ensuring we would get justice. We also wanted the four kids to get to know each other as siblings — because the children were siblings regardless of what was happening.

Ultimately, we united against a man who manipulated our lives, unveiling a story more convoluted than any soap opera plot.

Our lawyer ensured that we got alimony from William — although we could never figure out how William had managed to marry both of us — and kept the lie going for so many years.

I’ve also gotten Emma into therapy to ensure that my daughter was healing from this traumatic experience. But if I’m being honest, I think the best therapy was Emma getting to know her half-siblings.

My Daughter Kept Taking an Extremely Heavy Backpack to School – I Realized Why When I Finally Met Her Bus Driver
Life as a single mom in the suburbs is a tightrope walk between joy, coffee, and juggling acts. I’m Juliet, a financial advisor, striving to build a career robust enough to secure a bright future for my nine-year-old daughter, River.

Since my husband deserted us and fled to a new state when River was only a toddler, the brunt of parenting fell solely on my shoulders. “At least this way,” my mother said, feeding River, “you don’t have to worry about your daughter learning Richard’s lying and cheating ways. She’s all yours, and you can mold her in the way you want.”

A few weeks ago, we were sitting down to dinner together, and River began telling me all about the latest news at school. She went into a whole explanation of after-school clubs and felt that she should join.

“Okay,” I said, pleased by her growing interest in school activities. “What are you thinking about? Drama? Art?”

River sat and thought about it for a minute, picking at her broccoli.

“I think Art club,” she said.

“We’ll go out and buy art supplies tomorrow,” I promised.

“I’m so excited about this!” River gushed.

I couldn’t mask my relief that River would have something constructive to occupy her time while I was still at work.

One morning, River, brimming with newfound responsibility, declared that she wanted to pack her own lunches to foster her independence. I was standing at the counter sorting out River’s breakfast of cereal and juice while starting her lunch for the day.

“Mom, I think I should start packing my own lunches,” she stated firmly, watching me add her things to her sandwich.

“That’s a great idea, River. I’m so proud of you for taking this step,” I said, encouraging her self-reliance. “But you’ll have to ask me for help when it comes to knife things.”

Our routine continued like clockwork. We had breakfast together, and I walked River to the front of our yard, where the yellow school bus picked her up.

But a few days ago, something changed.

As we got to the bench my father had installed in our yard, I asked River to put her backpack down so I could help her into her jacket.

Moments later, as I pulled the jacket closed, a slight wince escaped her when I tapped her back.

“What’s wrong?” I asked immediately.

River shrugged her shoulders and dismissed it as the weight of her schoolbooks causing discomfort, but the mother in me stirred with worry.

“Are you sure you’re okay? That seemed like it hurt,” I probed, concern lacing my tone.

“It’s just the books, Mom,” my nine-year-old said. “They’ve been really heavy this week,” she brushed off, avoiding my gaze.

“Do you want me to take you to school, then?” I asked her as I checked my watch for the time.

“No, thank you,” River said, as the bus honked around the corner.

Driven by concern and curiosity, I got to my office and called the school.

“No, Juliet,” the secretary said. “We don’t allow the kids to take textbooks home because of how heavy they are. So, they use them at school only.”

Then what was River taking to school?

I decided to leave work early. I wanted to pick River up and talk with her about whatever was going on.

River was a responsible child, and I knew that she wouldn’t be doing anything wrong. But if she was hurting herself in some way, I needed to understand why and what was going on with her.

I parked next to a school bus and waited to see River run out. I followed her to the school bus that did our route and caught a snippet of conversation between River and the bus driver.

“Did she like everything?” River asked the driver.

“She loved it!” the driver said. “Are you sure that it’s okay that you’re bringing things for my Rebecca?”

“Yes,” River said. “As long as Rebecca is happy.”

Who is Rebecca? I wondered to myself.

“River!” I called as other students started to get on the bus.

“Mom!” she exclaimed when she saw me. “What are you doing here?”

“I left work early,” I told her, ready to take the immovable boulder that had been her backpack on her shoulders, which was now suddenly light as air.

“Honey, where are all your things?” I asked.

River hesitated as we walked to the car.

“I’ll tell you at home,” she said.

Taking her hands in mine, I knelt to her level.

“Tell me what’s going on. You can tell me anything, River. And you can trust me,” I encouraged her, trying to soothe her distress.

Through tears, River told me everything.

The new bus driver with whom she had made fast friends had a daughter who was battling leukemia.

“I saw her photo next to the steering wheel, Mom,” River said. “Mr. Williams makes me sit on the seat behind him because I’m so small. So when I saw the photo, I asked him who the girl was.”

I sat back and let River continue. She needed to let the story out—and feel seen and heard.

“Mr. Williams said that Rebecca is only two years younger than me, and that she hasn’t been in school at all. Because she’s stuck in the hospital.”

I nodded.

“So, when we got the art supplies for school, I took two of everything so that I could make a pack for Rebecca, too. And even the clothes, because she said that the hospital is so cold.”

“You’ve spoken to Rebecca?” I asked.

“Yes,” River said, tears streaming down her face again. “Mr. Williams has been taking me. I don’t go to any after-school clubs.”

River sucked in her breath and held it until I spoke.

“Oh, baby,” I said. “You should have told me.”

I was torn between admiration and fear for her safety. We agreed to meet Mr. Williams at the hospital later in the evening. And upon meeting him, his sincerity and gratitude washed away my fears.

“Thank you for allowing and supporting River in this,” Mr. Williams thanked me, assuming that I had been aware of River’s actions.

“Your daughter is wonderful, Juliet,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said. “I would love to do more.”

Mr. Williams smiled at me and led us down a hallway to Rebecca’s room. The rest of the day was spent in laughter and shared stories as River and Rebecca played in the hospital room, their joy echoing off the walls.

Watching them, I realized that my daughter had taught me a valuable lesson in compassion, one that I would cherish and nurture as she continued to grow.

I Overheard My Husband Asking Our 4-Year-Old Son Not to Tell Me What He Saw – Days Later, I Uncovered the Shocking Truth Myself
Paige loves her career, even if it means being away from home a lot. However, when she returns from a business trip, she overhears a cryptic conversation between her husband and her four-year-old son. Little does she know — the thread of her marriage is about to unravel.

When I think about the foundations of my life, there were three that always stood out: my husband, Victor, my son, Mason, and my career. Despite the storms that Victor and I weathered together, including four heart-wrenching miscarriages, we emerged stronger than before the storm.

But then, a pregnancy test came back positive. And three months later, our baby was still thriving in my womb.

So, when Mason came into our lives, it felt like our shattered dreams had finally pieced themselves back together. Mason became the one thing that we focused on unconditionally. Whenever our son needed us, we dropped everything.

“I don’t want a babysitter or a nanny taking care of our son,” Victor said one day when he was cooking us dinner.

“If you can handle the days, then the evening shifts are all mine,” I compromised.

But little did I know, it was during my absence that the fabric of our family began to unravel.

The day that changed everything was like any other. I took a cab from the airport and eagerly awaited to see my husband and son.

When I walked in, the house was oddly quiet, with shuffling upstairs.

Victor’s voice was hushed but urgent — the same urgency that Mason associated with bad behavior and bedtime.

“Buddy, you’ve got to promise me one thing, okay?” Victor said.

“Okay,” Mason muttered innocently. “What is it?”

“You’ve got to promise me that you won’t tell Mom what you saw.”

“But I don’t like secrets,” Mason said. “Why can’t I tell Mommy?”

“It’s not a secret, Mason,” he said. “But if we tell Mommy, it’s going to make her sad. Do you want Mommy to be sad, buddy?”

“No, I don’t,” he said.

I walked into Mason’s room and found Victor sitting on his bed, while our son sat on the floor surrounded by his toys.

“What’s going on?” I asked, Mason leaping into my arms.

“Nothing, honey,” Victor said, winking. “Just a boys’ chat. Welcome home.”

The week-long business trip that followed was torture. I loved my job, and I loved working on the new campaign we were running. But I hated being away from Mason for so long. Victor’s daily photos of Mason were my only solace until one of the photos brought about more questions than answers.

Victor had sent a series of photos to me — in each of them, my son was playing with a new toy. But in one of the photos, there was a pair of blue shoes in the background. They were not mine. And yet, there they were, in my living room.

I knew that the moment I entered my home, everything was going to change. Either, my husband would confess that there was someone else in his life — or that there was a nanny looking after our son.

A nanny with expensive shoes, I thought.

walked into my son’s room first. He was just waking up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hi, baby,” I said, kissing his head. “Dad’s not downstairs?”

Mason looked at me for a moment too long.

“Mommy, don’t go in there. You’ll be sad,” he warned, his words echoing the secret pact I had overheard.

Fueled by a mix of dread and anger, I approached my bedroom. The muffled sounds from inside were enough confirmation. I braced myself and opened the door.

Victor swore.

The woman untangled herself from my husband and my bedding.

“Paige!” he exclaimed, sitting up in bed. “It’s not what you think!”

I laughed.

“Do I look that stupid?” I asked him before I felt the tears well in my eyes.

Advertisement
The woman picked up her clothes and locked herself in our bathroom.

I felt sick to my stomach.

How many women had there been?

How much had Mason seen?

In the aftermath, as I recounted the ordeal to my family, their embrace was a sliver of comfort. My parents encouraged me to get Victor to move out.

“Let him leave,” my father said. “You and Mason need to stay comfortable.”

In the end, Victor moved his things out. But he still denied the affair — apparently I didn’t know what I had seen.

At least he didn’t contest the divorce.

“He’s trying to save whatever dignity he has left,” my mother said on the phone.

Reflecting on the secret conversation that had set everything in motion, I realized that the signs were always there. I had chosen to see only the best in Victor — constantly ignoring the whispers of doubt.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*