A woman finally got a good job when her son left for college and paid for everything he needed since then. Seven years passed, and they only talked through a screen, but one day, he returned and couldn’t believe what had happened.
“Chris, don’t worry about anything. I’m paying for as much as I can. Whatever you need, call me,” Olive told her son at the train station. He was on his way to New York for college, and she had finally landed a well-paying job.
However, for most of his life until then, she couldn’t afford much. His presents were always second-hand, as she raised him alone and studied at night. He never lacked food or shelter, but Olive always felt guilty for not being able to give him the things his friends had.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
She finally got a decent salary and was ready to give him anything he wanted.
“Thank you, Mom,” Chris said, hugged her, and got on the train.
He knocked on the door. No response. He looked through the window and couldn’t believe it. There was nothing inside.
***
“Mrs. Franklin, you should come to visit! I’m so huge now!” Chris’ fiancée, Rosalie, told her through the computer screen.
Chris had met her during his junior year, and they were both about to graduate. However, Rosalie found out she was pregnant, and they got engaged. Sadly, Olive had yet to meet her in person because they were both studying so hard, and Rosalie couldn’t travel much in her condition.
Meanwhile, Olive couldn’t visit either because she was working extra hard. Over the years, she took on more and more hours at work despite her excellent salary because she was paying for Chris’ college, his housing, his expenses, and her own. However, she lived as frugally as possible.
“Soon, Rosalie! I hope to meet you soon. When I get a free moment,” Olive nodded, and finally, Chris appeared on the screen. He told Rosalie he needed to talk to his mother, and she left the room.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Mom, I wanted to ask you something,” Chris started, scratching the back of his head. “Since Rosalie and I are going to graduate soon and have a baby, I was wondering if you could help me with a house. We looked at one already. It’s in New Jersey because there’s no way we could live in the city, but it’s beautiful. It reminds me of home.”
Olive stared at her son for a while and thought hard. “Well, I… don’t know,” she muttered, thinking about her savings and hard work. She was finally planning for retirement.
“Please,” Chris begged and talked about the house cost and how much they would need for a down payment. He also said that Rosalie didn’t have anything because she had no family to help out.
“Ok, Chris, ok. I think we can work something out,” Olive finally said. She would have to deplete her entire savings and, maybe, live even more frugally. But it was possible.
“Thank you! Thank you, Mom! I don’t know what I would do without you!” Chris said, almost crying on the video call, and Olive smiled, knowing it was all worth it.
***
“I wish you guys could come this Christmas,” Olive commented in front of her computer, as she did many times over the years. Her son had left her house seven years ago and had not returned to his Maryland hometown. All they did was video chat. She was missing her granddaughter’s life and hated it. But everyone was busy.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Olive worked now more than ever because she still helped her son often and had depleted her savings a second time when he wanted to start a business. She never asked him for anything in return but wished they would at least visit, as she couldn’t.
“We can’t, Mom. Not this year,” Chris said, shaking his head. “But thank you for the gifts you already sent Mallory. She loves them. You’re an amazing grandma.”
“Put her on the screen,” Olive requested gently and watched her granddaughter longing to hold her in her arms.
***
Olive didn’t know that Chris was finally planning to visit her. He couldn’t buy plane tickets for Rosalie and Mallory to come with him, but he was finally happy to see his mother.
However, his taxi stopped in front of his house, and Chris frowned. It was 9 p.m., and the lights were completely out. Chris told his cad driver to wait for a second and got out. The porch furniture was gone. The plants her mother loved were also missing. The garden was overgrown, and even the welcome mat was absent.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
He knocked on the door. No response. He looked through the window and couldn’t believe it. There was nothing inside. Did Mom move? Why didn’t she tell me? he wondered, concerned.
“Chris? Is that you?” a female voice asked.
He turned around and saw Mrs. Torres, an old woman who had lived next door to them all his life. “Mrs. Torres. Hi, there!”
“What are you doing here, kid?” she asked.
“I’m here to see Mom. Do you know where she is?” he asked, frowning.
“Oh, dear. Your mother moved away about two years ago. She sold that house, but the new owners moved just a few weeks ago. I don’t know who’ll be moving in now,” Mrs. Torres said, her forehead wrinkling as she rambled on.
“She never told me,” Chris muttered. “Do you know where she is?”
“Sure, I have her address written. Come with me,” Mrs. Torres went to her house and gave him a piece of paper.
Chris read the address and frowned. The address pointed to a side of town that wasn’t too nice. “Do you know why she moved there?” he asked the older woman.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“No, honey. But I know she has a roommate now,” Mrs. Torres shrugged, and Chris was even more baffled.
He finally got back in his taxi and gave him the new address. He reached an apartment complex with run-down paintwork on a poorly lit street. It was terrible. Also, he quickly entered the building and went up easily because there was no security.
“Chris? What are you doing here?” Olive asked, shocked when she answered the door.
“Mom! What is going on? Why did you sell the house?” Chris questioned, dismayed and bewildered.
“Oh, Chris. Come in,” she sighed and ushered her son into her tiny living room.
Olive explained that the first time he asked her for money for the house, she had some savings and depleted him to buy them the house. However, when Chris asked her for money for his business, she had not saved anything and decided to sell her house and give him almost all the profit.
Chris was shocked by this news and the fact that he had been so oblivious. So careless. Such a lousy son. “Why didn’t you say anything? Mom! I wouldn’t have taken that money if I’d known,” he muttered, breathless.
“But I wanted you to succeed, sweetie. I failed to give you so much when you were younger, I just didn’t…” she tried to explain, but Chris cut her off.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Mom, you gave me everything I ever needed. I only asked because I thought you had it. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for not asking about you. I’m sorry for not visiting. I’m so sorry you have to live in this part of town and with a roommate at your age, for God’s sake!” Chris apologized, frustrated tears coming out of his eyes.
Olive teared up as well and hugged her son dearly while Chris made her so many promises. He called Rosalie that night, explained everything, and they both agreed that it was time to move Olive closer to them. Luckily, she got a new job in New Jersey quickly.
Eventually, they built an in-law suite for her so that Olive wouldn’t miss another second of her granddaughter’s life. And slowly but surely, Chris repaid his mother for every penny she had given him for the house and business – which took off exponentially and allowed them to live comfortably. But most of all, Chris never allowed Olive to sacrifice anything else again.
What can we learn from this story?
- Visit and talk to your parents as much as possible, especially those who give you everything unconditionally. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a mother like Olive, and Chris should’ve checked on her more often.
- Don’t feel guilty if you can’t buy your kids the same as other parents. All they need is your love. Children don’t need fancy new sneakers or the latest games. All they need is your support and love.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who quit his job to take his mom from a nursing home and doesn’t find her there.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
My Husband Said His Job Was Sending Him on a Work Conference — Then I Found Out He Was at a Wedding
When Lee’s husband claims he’s flying out for a work conference, she trusts him, until a Facebook photo shatters the illusion. No podium, no conference, just a wedding… and his ex. What follows isn’t a meltdown. It’s a reckoning. A calm, calculated confrontation that redefines trust and a quiet strength that shows exactly what betrayal costs.
When Jason told me he had to fly out of state for a last-minute marketing conference, I didn’t question it.
He’s in sales. Conferences happen. He even showed me the email with the company header, bullet-point itinerary, flight details.
A laptop opened to emails | Source: Midjourney
“Lee, I’m going to be super busy, honey,” he’d said. “I’m probably going to be off the grid for most of the weekend. So, don’t worry about me! You take time off and enjoy yourself.”
“Yeah, I may do a spa weekend,” I said, thinking out loud.
I packed his garment bag myself. I made sure that the suit was pressed correctly. I slipped in his favorite tie, the blue one that I always said made his eyes look softer. He laughed and kissed my forehead.
A suit hanging in a cupboard | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t miss me too much,” he said.
I watched him walk through security and disappear. I trusted him the same way you trust gravity. I thought that if anything, we had enough trust in our marriage.
But then everything changed two days later. I was scrolling through Facebook on a lazy Sunday afternoon, mindlessly sipping tea and avoiding laundry, when I saw it.
A woman scrolling on her cellphone | Source: Midjourney
My husband. My hard-working husband. Jason.
Not behind a podium. Not shaking hands at a conference.
Oh no, my husband was standing at the altar wearing the suit I had packed. He was grinning like he was the happiest man in the world. He had a glass of champagne in one hand and a little box of confetti in the other.
A smiling best man at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
He was a best man in a wedding I hadn’t been told about.
In a photo that clearly I was never supposed to see. And standing next to him? Emily, his ex. The one that he swore was ancient history.
But they looked anything but history. They looked… familiar. Like they had been together all along.
“What the actual hell, Jason?” I said to the empty living room.
A smiling couple at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
My fingers hovered over the screen like they didn’t belong to me. I zoomed in without meaning to, as if seeing his smile up close might make it make sense. But it didn’t.
He was happy. He was content and relaxed. Like someone who hadn’t lied to the woman waiting for him at home.
I felt the air go thin, like my lungs forgot how to take it in.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
My first instinct wasn’t rage. It was grief. Like something sacred had quietly died in the background and no one had told me.
I sat there for a long time, frozen in that moment between disbelief and devastation, trying to convince myself there had to be an explanation.
But I knew better.
A close up of an upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I’d packed that suit with love. I’d even slid one of my sleeping t-shirts into his suitcase so that he could smell me on his clothes. Instead, this man had worn that suit like a weapon, armed with the blue tie that I adored on him.
I didn’t scream though. But something inside me went silent. It was as though someone had plugged all my sound.
But that silence?
It was louder than any fury.
A blue tie on a bed | Source: Midjourney
Jason came home on Monday evening. He smelled like hotel soap and something expensive that I couldn’t pinpoint but was sure I hadn’t packed. He looked tired. Like someone who spent the weekend performing, not working.
He kissed my cheek like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t stood at an altar in front of strangers while I sat at home believing he was “off the grid.”
“Please tell me that you cooked?” he asked. “I missed your cooking, Lee! Hotel food is great and all, but home food? Yes, ma’am.”
A smiling man standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
I looked at him like he had grown antennae.
“Not yet,” I said. “But there is something we need to talk about before we make dinner.”
He followed me to the living room, where I had a clipboard on the coffee table.
“I’ve made a list of upcoming events that I’ll be attending without you. Let’s run through them together.”
A clipboard on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“What?” Jason blinked, already off balance. “What do you mean? We always attend events together. Even if only one of us is invited, we always make a plan, Lee!”
Aah, Jason. You stupid fool, I thought. You’re digging your grave even deeper.
“Well, I suppose things change… life is expensive now. People can only afford a certain number of guests. This is just so we’re clear on our new standard for marital communication.”
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
He opened his mouth, confused but I handed him the clipboard anyway.
At the top, in clean, deliberate ink:
Lee’s Upcoming Itinerary
Thursday: Daniel’s art show. Opening night, downtown.
Saturday: Girls’ trip to Serenity Spa Resort (adults only, co-ed pool).
The interior of a spa | Source: Midjourney
Next Week: Networking dinner at Bistro (attending solo, red dress ready).
Two Weeks: Chelsea’s birthday dinner.
He read the list in silence, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
A woman standing in a bistro wearing a red dress | Source: Midjourney
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.
“Daniel? Your ex-boyfriend?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Don’t worry. I won’t mention any of this until after it happens. You don’t need to know, right? Since that’s how we do things now, right?”
His head snapped up.
A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Lee, come on. This isn’t the same. It was work…”
“Don’t lie,” I said simply. “Because you lied about it all. And your lie involved tuxedos and speeches and an ex-girlfriend in a bridesmaid dress?”
He opened his mouth but I kept going. My voice didn’t rise. It didn’t have to.
“I don’t know if you slept with her or anything, Jason. I really don’t. But I know you lied. You crafted a whole fake weekend. You made me think you were unreachable because you were working, when really, you just didn’t want to answer any of my calls in case she was nearby. Right?”
A smiling bridesmaid | Source: Midjourney
He stared at the clipboard like it had personally betrayed him.
“I… I messed up,” he said, his voice cracking around the edges.
That was it. Not “I’m sorry.” Not “It meant nothing.”
Just… I messed up.
“Yeah, you did,” I said.
And then I walked past him. Because when trust cracks like that, even forgiveness walks with a limp.
An upset man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
After that night, we didn’t speak much.
Not because we were giving each other the silent treatment… but because we didn’t know what words to use. Everything felt too big. Too sharp.
He hovered like a man on eggshells, trying to do things right without knowing what “right” looked like anymore. And I moved through the days on autopilot, brushing my teeth beside him, making dinner, folding his t-shirts with hands that weren’t sure what they were holding onto.
A woman busy in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t ready to leave. But I wasn’t ready to forgive him either.
Jason and I didn’t end our marriage.
So I did what I always did when I didn’t have the answer. I made a plan. I found a therapist and I made the appointment.
And when I told him he was coming with me, he didn’t argue. He just nodded. Like he knew he should’ve offered before I even had to ask.
A smiling therapist | Source: Midjourney
Because when trust breaks, the first step isn’t forgiveness. It’s seeing if the pieces still fit.
We sat side by side on a faux-leather couch in a beige room with neutral paintings and a therapist who asked gentle questions like landmines.
Jason deleted his Facebook account. I watched him tap through the settings and confirm it. We shared passwords. Calendars. He sent texts when he was five minutes late and asked before making plans.
A cellphone on a table | Source: Midjourney
He got quieter. Listened more. He flinched every time the topic turned to Emily.
But something in me had shifted.
I smiled through some of the sessions and said all the right things, but in the quiet spaces—in bed, in the car, making toasted sandwiches—I felt it.
Toasted sandwiches on a board | Source: Midjourney
The ground wasn’t level anymore.
The man I used to trust without question had introduced doubt into the blueprint. The tiny tremors hadn’t stopped, even if the apology had been offered.
And sometimes, healing feels less like mending and more like learning how to live with the crack.
A pensive man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
People sometimes ask how we moved past it, how I stayed with Jason… how I forgave him. They ask carefully, like the answer might undo something in their own lives.
I don’t offer any clichés. I don’t say “because I loved him,” or “because people make mistakes.” Those things are true, but they aren’t the reason.
The truth is quieter.
A nonchalant woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
After everything unraveled, after the Facebook post and the confrontation and the shaky apology, I sat alone at the kitchen table one night and wrote a list. Not the playful, pointed list I gave him with the clipboard.
A real one. Private.
I wrote down every opportunity I could have taken to betray him right back. The moments I could have used my pain as a license to be reckless. The people who would’ve welcomed me if I’d reached out.
The invitations I could have accepted without explanation. The places I could have gone where he wouldn’t have followed.
A woman sitting at a table and writing | Source: Midjourney
I wrote it all out. Line by line.
And then I looked at it for a long time.
There’s a kind of power in knowing what you could do and choosing not to. It doesn’t feel like weakness. It feels like clarity.
I realized I wasn’t staying out of passivity. I was staying because I still believed something could be rebuilt, maybe not the exact shape we had before, but something real.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Something honest.
Trust isn’t a light switch. It doesn’t come back the second someone says “I messed up.” It’s slow. Uneven. Sometimes you think it’s returning, only to feel it vanish again the moment something feels off.
Therapy was an eye-opener. Jason listened more than he spoke. I spoke more than I wanted to. There were moments when we couldn’t look each other in the eye.
But we stayed in the room.
A pensive man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
What brought us through wasn’t grand gestures. It was the accumulation of small choices. A hundred moments where he had to earn back something he never should’ve gambled.
And for me, it was that list. It was knowing what I could’ve done and choosing not to.
That choice, quiet and unseen, became the foundation for everything that came after.
We’re still here. Still building. Still flawed.
A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
But I don’t flinch when he says that he has a work trip. I don’t check flight confirmations or second-guess a photo someone else posts online. That’s not because I forgot.
But it’s because he remembered to be truthful and honest and to honor our vows.
A man walking out of a house | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
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