Monica told her mother, Vivienne, that she was engaged to a new man named Zach. The older woman couldn’t believe it, mainly because he was not wealthy, so she decided to dress up as a poor woman and investigate. She couldn’t have been more shocked at the scene she found in Zach’s house.
Vivienne’s daughter, Monica, had just stormed out of her house. They had a massive argument over Monica’s announcement. She was going to marry a man named Zach. Vivienne couldn’t believe it because she had no idea her daughter had broken up with her boyfriend, Anthony.
Anthony’s family wasn’t as wealthy as Monica’s family, but they were respected in the high society of Hartford. Vivienne dreamed of his daughter marrying well and never worrying about money. However, it seemed that Monica’s new man did not come from money at all. He lived in the small town of Mystic. Moreover, he was a fisherman, and his parents worked blue-collar jobs their entire lives.
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Pexels
That won’t do. She can’t marry him! Vivienne thought, trying to calm her rapidly-beating heart after the fight with Monica.
“I can’t marry Anthony, Mother! He cheated on me with at least three women in just two months! Do you want me to be miserable?!” Monica had asked in tears.
“That can’t be true!” Vivienne yelled back, and that’s when Monica decided to storm out of the house.
Vivienne sat in her living room and thought about what to do. She had to fix this somehow. If Anthony was really a cheater, it made sense that Monica became attracted to someone outside their society. But what if this Zach was with her for her family’s money? Men could be gold-diggers too.
She had to check out Zach without her daughter. It had to be a scenario where he was forced to act as himself and not the version he wanted Monica to see, so she came up with a plan.
The following day, Vivienne took a taxi and arrived in Mystic, Connecticut, wearing the most horrible clothes she could find in her old boxes. She wore a stained skirt which she purposely ripped on one side and a sweater that smelled like mothballs. It was perfect. She would see Zach and observe how he acted around regular people.
Luckily, Mystic was such a small town that everyone apparently knew where Zach lived. Vivienne just asked a lady at the local grocery store, and she pointed her in the general direction.
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
She reached his house, which was worse than Vivienne could’ve imagined. It looked run down and had an unkempt garden. She saw beer bottles and cigarette buds lying around as she approached the front door. Monica has never seen this house before, Vivienne thought, convinced of it. There’s no way her daughter would’ve fallen for a man who lived like this.
She wanted to run but had to get this done, so she raised her finger and rang the doorbell. A man with a gray, sweat-stained shirt answered the door. He was clearly in his 20s. This had to be Zach. He had a bottle of beer in his hand and an unshaven face.
“Yeah?” the man said.
“Oh, hello,” Vivienne began tentatively. Now that she was there, she had no idea how to talk to him or what to say to discover what kind of personality he had.
“Lady, what do you want?” the man continued irately now.
“I’m sorry. I was wondering if you could help me. I’m a bit lost,” she finally blurted. “Are you Zach?”
“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want?” Zach asked and belched. Vivienne couldn’t help looking disgusted, and he laughed.
Suddenly, a woman started yelling from inside the house. “Zach! Where did you put my lighter? You’re always losing stuff! YOU IDIOT!”
Zach turned from Vivienne and started shouting at the woman. “I’m the idiot? I’M THE IDIOT! You’re the one that loses everything as soon as it gets here. I don’t know where you put it! Don’t blame it on me!”
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I can’t believe I’m still with someone like you! I’m going to leave you tonight!” the woman screamed some more, and Vivienne heard the distinct sound of breaking glass. She raised a hand to her chest.
“THE DAY YOU LEAVE WILL BE THE BEST OF MY LIFE, CRAZY WOMAN!” Zach snapped loudly and turned back to look at Vivienne. “Look, lady. Get to the point. I’m busy.”
“That’s your girlfriend?” Vivienne breathed. It was the only thing that came to her mind after that horrible display. These people were awful.
“None of your business, old woman. Now, go away,” he bellowed and slammed the door in her face. Vivienne jumped as the door closed and couldn’t believe her daughter was actually dating that man.
This is awful. Monica was not only going to get her heart broken again, but this man was clearly abusive and dangerous to women in general. Vivienne had to stop it. But first, she had to go back to Hartford, which meant finding a taxi in this small town.
She started walking the streets and noticed the other houses around the block. They were old and tiny, just like Zach’s, but others maintained them. At least, not everyone was bad in this area. They were covered in snow this time of the year. Suddenly, a woman came out of one of the houses, saw Vivienne, and waved.
Vivienne smiled and waved back, not knowing what else to do. The woman started walking towards her. She was around her age and had the kindest smile in the world.
“Hey, there! Do you need help? Are you lost?” the woman asked.
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. I just need to find a taxi and go home,” Vivienne answered and tried to walk away. But the woman wouldn’t let her.
“Wait. I’m Georgia. It’s getting really cold out here, and sometimes, it’s hard to find a taxi on the main road. Come inside, and I’ll call one for you,” she suggested.
“I’m Vivienne. Nice to meet you. That’s such a kind offer, but I don’t know….”
“I insist,” the woman continued and urged Vivienne inside.
They chatted a while, and Georgia called the cab company in town. Apparently, all the drivers were busy, and none of them wanted to drive all the way to Hartford.
“Oh, dear. What should I do? I have to get to Hartford tonight,” Vivienne muttered, biting her bottom lip.
“A taxi from here to Hartford is so expensive. Are you sure? Maybe, you can stay here, and tomorrow, you can take the bus,” Georgia noted.
“Oh, it’s alright. Someone else is paying the taxi,” Vivienne lied. “It’s important for me to get home tonight.”
Just then, someone opened the front door and came in. “Hey, Ma!”
It was a handsome man in his 20s who looked remarkably like Georgia with a kind face and smile. Georgia hugged him and introduced him to Vivienne. He was visiting his mother and brought over fresh fish he had caught that day.
“Oh, boy. I meant to ask. Do you know anyone going to Hartford tonight?” Georgia asked her son after stashing the fish in the freezer.
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The man stood in the middle of the living room and pursed his lips. “Oh, I don’t. Why?”
“Vivienne has to get there tonight, but none of the taxis in town want to take her,” Georgia replied.
“Well, why don’t I take her? I was thinking of going to Hartford this weekend and buying some stuff. But I guess tonight works too,” Georgia’s son offered.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out. You look tired,” Vivienne muttered, embarrassed.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go,” the man insisted and guided Vivienne to his car. It was an old pickup, but he assured her it worked perfectly and would get them to their destination.
They talked during the more-than-one-hour drive to Hartford, and Vivienne was pleasantly surprised by his kind demeanor. Not many people would have offered an older woman a ride just like that, and she hadn’t talked about paying him. He was a kind, hard-working man.
Well, not everyone in that town is as awful as Monica’s new boyfriend. Why couldn’t she meet a boy like this? Vivienne was lost in thought as they entered the city.
“Ma’am. Where exactly are you going? I can take you anywhere,” the man wondered.
“Oh, there’s this gated community…,” Vivienne began, giving him the directions to her area. But she told him to stop at the gates instead of leading him to her house.
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Here! Have some money for the ride. It’s what I would’ve paid the taxi,” she said, holding out some cash in her hand and opening the door with her other hand.
“No, no. I couldn’t. I was already coming here anyway,” the man rejected her offer.
Vivienne tried to insist. “Please, take it.”
“No, ma’am. I really couldn’t. I used this ride as an excuse to see my girlfriend, who lives around the area. I should thank you!” the man laughed, and Vivienne joined him.
“Well, then. I appreciate your kindness,” she finally said before getting out of the truck and waving goodbye at the young man.
Oh, I never even asked his name. Jesus, I forgot all my manners, she thought after reaching her house.
Her meeting with Monica’s horrible boyfriend had truly shaken her, but at least, she met some great people that got her home safely. Obviously, she knew that money wasn’t everything, and many average folks were great people. But her daughter had made a colossal mistake.
Why couldn’t she have picked someone like Georgia’s son? He was pretty nice, Vivienne thought as she changed out of the old clothes and into her pajamas.
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Suddenly, her phone pinged with a message. It was Monica. She said that she was bringing her boyfriend for dinner tomorrow night and hoped Vivienne would be nice.
“Oh, dear. I’m going to have to break your heart tomorrow. But you definitely can’t marry that man,” she muttered out loud, looking intently at her phone.
The following night, Vivienne was worried. Her daughter’s car had just pulled into her driveway, and Zach was coming with her. She had no idea how to explain what she did yesterday and how she ended up at that man’s house. But Monica would have to see reason. That horrible man was sweaty, rude, and had a girlfriend.
There was a knock on the front door, and Vivienne breathed deeply to gather her courage. She was about to start a huge fight with that man, and Monica had to listen to her. But when the older woman opened the door, her mouth dropped. No arguments or screams came out — just a tiny squeak.
“Mom?” Monica asked, frowning at her mother.
The man standing beside her was not that sweaty Zach she had met the previous day. It was Georgia’s son!
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Ma’am?” the man asked and looked at Monica with a confused expression. “This is your mother? I gave her a ride from Mystic last night.”
“What? Mom, what were you doing at Mystic?” Monica wondered, placing her hand on her waist.
“Oh, dear. Come in! Come in! This is your boyfriend, Zach?” Vivienne inquired as she guided them inside quickly, breathing heavily. She was ecstatic.
“Yes, Mom. This is Zach. But did you meet him yesterday?” her daughter asked again, refusing to let her change the subject. They both removed their coats, and Vivienne was smiling at them with the most relieved smile in the world.
“Yes, dear. It’s a long story. Sit down…,” she told them and explained everything that happened the day before, including how Zach ended up driving her back to Hartford.
There were two people named Zach in the town of Mystic, and the lady at the store only knew one of them. The rude one. Monica found the whole story hilarious and their original fight had already been forgotten by the time Vivienne finished.
For Illustration Purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The whole night, Vivienne was so friendly to Monica’s Zach. They had dinner and enjoyed a wonderful time. Before the couple left, Vivienne told Monica that she approved and would pay for their wedding if they desired. The older woman never judged Zach for being a fisherman because he treated her daughter like a princess.
Besides, after meeting that sweaty Zach, anyone else was infinitely better.
What can we learn from this story?
- Don’t judge others based on their financial status. Money doesn’t mean anything in the end. Some horrible people have tons of money, and some of the greatest might be working paycheck to paycheck.
- Don’t assume you know what’s best for your children. Some parents think they know what would make their kids happy, but that’s not always the case.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
We Adopted a 3-Year-Old Boy – When My Husband Went to Bathe Him for the First Time, He Shouted, ‘We Must Return Him!’
After years of infertility, we adopted Sam, a sweet 3-year-old with ocean-blue eyes. But when my husband went to bathe Sam, he ran out, yelling, “We must return him!” His panic made no sense until I spotted the distinctive marking on Sam’s foot.
I never expected that bringing home our adopted son would unravel the fabric of my marriage. But looking back now, I realize that some gifts come wrapped in heartache, and sometimes the universe has a twisted sense of timing.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
“Are you nervous?” I asked Mark as we drove to the agency.
My hands fidgeted with the tiny blue sweater I’d bought for Sam, our soon-to-be son. The fabric was impossibly soft against my fingers, and I imagined his small shoulders filling it out.
“Me? Nah,” Mark replied, but his knuckles were white against the steering wheel. “Just ready to get this show on the road. Traffic’s making me antsy.”
A man driving a car | Source: Pexels
He drummed his fingers on the dash, a nervous tick I’d noticed more frequently lately.
“You’ve checked the car seat three times,” he added with a forced chuckle. “Pretty sure you’re the nervous one.”
“Of course I am!” I smoothed the sweater again. “We’ve waited so long for this.”
The adoption process had been grueling, mostly handled by me while Mark focused on his expanding business.
A woman staring thoughtfully out a car window | Source: Midjourney
The endless paperwork, home studies, and interviews had consumed my life for months as I searched agency lists for a child. We’d initially planned to adopt an infant, but the waiting lists stretched endlessly, so I started expanding our options.
That’s how I found Sam’s photo — a three-year-old boy with eyes like summer skies and a smile that could melt glaciers.
His mother had abandoned him, and something in those eyes spoke directly to my heart. Maybe it was the hint of sadness behind his smile, or perhaps it was fate.
A little boy with striking blue eyes | Source: Midjourney
“Look at this little guy,” I said to Mark one evening, showing him the photo on my tablet. The blue glow illuminated his face as he studied it.
He’d smiled so softly I knew he wanted this boy as much as I did. “He looks like a great kid. Those eyes are something else.”
“But could we handle a toddler?”
“Of course we can! No matter how old the kid is, I know you’ll be a great mom.” He squeezed my shoulder as I stared at the picture.
A woman staring at her tablet | Source: Midjourney
We completed the application process and, after what seemed like forever, we went to the agency to bring Sam home. The social worker, Ms. Chen, led us to a small playroom where Sam sat building a tower of blocks.
“Sam,” she said softly, “remember the nice couple we talked about? They’re here.”
I kneeled beside him, my heart thundering. “Hi, Sam. I love your tower. May I help?”
He studied me for a long moment, nodded, and handed me a red block. That simple gesture felt like the beginning of everything.
A child playing with toy blocks | Source: Midjourney
The drive home was quiet. Sam clutched a stuffed elephant we’d brought him, occasionally making small trumpet sounds that made Mark chuckle. I kept glancing back at him in his car seat, hardly believing he was real.
At home, I started unpacking Sam’s few belongings. His small duffle seemed impossibly light for containing a child’s whole world.
“I can give him his bath,” Mark offered, from the door. “Give you a chance to set up his room exactly how you want it.”
A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Great idea!” I beamed, thinking how wonderful it was that Mark wanted to bond right away. “Don’t forget the bath toys I picked up for him.”
They disappeared down the hall, and I hummed as I arranged Sam’s clothes in his new dresser. Each tiny sock and T-shirt made this feel more real. The peace lasted exactly forty-seven seconds.
“WE MUST RETURN HIM!”
Mark’s shout hit me like a physical blow.
A woman looking over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney
He burst from the bathroom as I raced into the hall. Mark’s face was ghost-white.
“What do you mean, return him?” I struggled to keep my voice steady, gripping the doorframe. “We just adopted him! He’s not a sweater from Target!”
Mark paced the hallway, running his hands through his hair, his breathing ragged. “I just realized… I can’t do this. I can’t treat him like my own. This was a mistake.”
“Why would you say that?” My voice cracked like thin ice.
A confused woman | Source: Midjourney
“You were excited just hours ago! You were making elephant noises with him in the car!”
“I don’t know; it just hit me. I can’t bond with him.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, staring instead at a point somewhere over my shoulder. His hands trembled.
“You’re being heartless!” I snapped, pushing past him into the bathroom.
Sam sat in the tub looking small and confused, and still wearing everything but his socks and shoes. He held his elephant clutched tight against his chest.
A boy holding a stuffed elephant | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, buddy,” I said, forcing cheerfulness into my voice while my world crumbled. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Would Mr. Elephant like a bath too?”
Sam shook his head. “He’s scared of water.”
“That’s okay. He can watch from here.” I set the toy safely on the counter. “Arms up!”
As I helped Sam undress, I noticed something that stopped my heart.
A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
Sam had a distinctive birthmark on his left foot. I’d seen that exact mark before, on Mark’s foot, during countless summer days by the pool. The same unique curve, the same placement.
My hands trembled as I bathed Sam, and my mind raced.
“You’ve got magic bubbles,” Sam said, poking at the foam I’d barely registered adding to the water.
“They’re extra special bubbles,” I muttered, watching him play. His smile, which had seemed so uniquely his own, now held echoes of my husband’s.
A bubble bath | Source: Pexels
That night, after tucking Sam into his new bed, I confronted Mark in our bedroom. The distance between us on the king-size mattress felt infinite.
“The birthmark on his foot is identical to yours.”
Mark froze in the act of removing his watch, then forced a laugh that sounded like breaking glass. “Pure coincidence. Lots of people have birthmarks.”
“I want you to take a DNA test.”
A woman with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, turning away. “You’re letting your imagination run wild. It’s been a stressful day.”
But his reaction told me everything. The next day, while Mark was at work, I took a few strands of hair from his brush and sent them for testing, along with a swab I took from Sam’s cheek during tooth-brushing time. I told him we were checking for cavities.
The wait was excruciating. Mark grew increasingly distant, spending more time at the office. Meanwhile, Sam and I grew closer.
A woman playing with a child | Source: Midjourney
He started calling me “Mama” within days, and each time he did, my heart swelled with love even as it ached with uncertainty.
We developed a routine of morning pancakes, bedtime stories, and afternoon walks to the park where he’d collect “treasure” (leaves and interesting rocks) for his windowsill.
When the results arrived two weeks later, they confirmed what I’d suspected. Mark was Sam’s biological father. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the paper until the words blurred, hearing Sam’s laughter float in from the backyard where he played with his new bubble wand.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“It was one night,” Mark finally confessed when I confronted him with the results. “I was drunk, at a conference. I never knew… I never thought…” He reached for me, his face crumpling. “Please, we can work this out. I’ll do better.”
I stepped back, my voice ice-cold. “You knew the moment you saw that birthmark. That’s why you panicked.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sinking into a kitchen chair. “When I saw him in the bath, it all came rushing back. That woman… I never got her name. I was ashamed, I tried to forget…”
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
“An accident four years ago, while I was going through fertility treatments? Crying every month when they failed?” Each question felt like glass in my throat.
The next morning, I visited a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman named Janet who listened without judgment. She confirmed what I hoped — being Sam’s legal adoptive mother gave me parental rights. Mark’s previously unknown paternity didn’t automatically grant him custody.
“I’m filing for divorce,” I told Mark that evening after Sam was asleep. “And I’m seeking full custody of Sam.”
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
“Amanda, please—”
“His mother already abandoned him and you were ready to do the same,” I cut in. “I won’t let that happen.”
His face crumpled. “I love you.”
“Not enough to come clean. It seems to me that you loved yourself more.”
Mark didn’t fight it, so the divorce proceedings were quick. Sam adjusted better than I expected, though sometimes he asked why Daddy didn’t live with us anymore.
A boy in his bed | Source: Midjourney
“Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes,” I’d tell him, stroking his hair. “But it doesn’t mean they don’t love you.” It was the kindest truth I could offer.
Years have passed since then, and Sam’s grown into a remarkable young man. Mark sends birthday cards and occasional emails but keeps his distance — his choice, not mine.
People sometimes ask if I regret not walking away when I discovered the truth. I always shake my head.
A woman hugging her son | Source: Midjourney
Sam wasn’t just an adopted child anymore; he was my son, biology, and betrayal be damned. Love isn’t always simple, but it’s always a choice. I vowed never to give him up, except to his future fiancée, of course.
Here’s another story: Despite being a struggling single mom, I had to help the elderly woman I found out in the cold on Christmas Eve. I never imagined that my simple act of kindness would lead to a mysterious luxury SUV at my door — or heal my broken heart.
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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