When Mia’s husband, Ben, suddenly starts talking about homeschooling their six-year-old daughter, Lily, she’s surprised. Months earlier, they had been talking about sending the little girl to private school. So, what changed? Mia finds out when she overhears a conversation between Ben and Lily…
This all started a few months ago at a dinner party. My husband, Ben, and I were sitting with a few friends when, out of the blue, he brought up the idea of homeschooling our daughter, Lily.
An aerial view of people at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney
“It’s the system, you know? It’s too rigid, too focused on tests,” Ben said, leaning forward in his seat like he had discovered the secret to the universe.
“Kids need to be free to explore their creativity. I don’t want Lily’s imagination boxed in. She needs to feel things between her fingers and experience life,” he continued.
Ben reached forward to help himself to the bowl of mashed potatoes.
A casserole of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney
Everyone at the table nodded, murmuring in agreement.
“Honestly, that’s so true,” our friend Sarah chimed in as she sipped her wine. “Schools just kill creativity. I wish I had done something different with my kids. Last year, Jasmine wanted to show off her creativity through her uniform, but they didn’t accept it at school. She got a suspension warning.”
I remember glancing at Ben, completely surprised at how passionately he was speaking. He had never once mentioned anything about homeschooling before. In fact, he had been talking about us getting our six-year-old into private school.
A little girl in her school uniform | Source: Midjourney
But here he was, talking about homeschooling like he’d been thinking about it for years.
“We could teach her ourselves, Mia,” Ben continued, glancing over at me with a smile. “Think about it, love. No strict schedules, no standardized tests. She could learn at her own pace.”
I nodded, trying to process everything.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, I mean, it does sound good,” I agreed. “But we need to explore all options about it first.”
I was hesitant. But I was also unsure of why I felt a slight unease creep up on me. Although when Ben spoke so passionately, it was hard not to get swept up in the dream of it all.
After that night, Ben kept bringing it up. At home, over dinner, in passing conversations, he’d make little comments all the time.
A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney
“Lily would be so much happier if she wasn’t stuck in a classroom all day.”
“We could help her learn things that matter, Mia, not just what’s on some test.”
Eventually, I started to believe that he might be right.
Before I knew it, we had decided to pull Lily out of her school and start with the new routine of homeschooling. Ben took charge of everything.
A little girl using a computer | Source: Midjourney
“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?”
He had always been more involved with her school meetings, so I trusted him completely. And look, at first, everything seemed to be working. Ben would sit with Lily during “school hours,” and he’d proudly show me the projects they’d worked on when I got home from work.
“I’m glad she’s happy,” I told Ben one evening when I was loading the dishwasher.
A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney
“She’s more than happy, Mia,” he said with a smile. “She’s thriving. Look at this! She made a solar system model all on her own.”
But then one day, I came home early from work, eager to show Lily the new set of watercolor paint I had gotten for her. I walked in quietly, not wanting to disturb whatever lesson she and Ben were doing.
And that’s when I heard Lily crying.
A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney
“But Dad, I miss my friends!” Lily sobbed. “They probably think I don’t like them anymore. I’m sure they think we’re fighting! They’ll be so mad at me for not going to school…”
I crept closer to the dining room, which had become the classroom. And I heard Ben’s voice, low and soothing.
“Lily-girl,” he said. “I told you, we can send them little gifts, okay? They won’t be mad at you.”
An upset little man | Source: Midjourney
Lily sniffled, but her tone lifted a little.
“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?” she said.
Deliver gifts? What on earth was my child talking about?
“Yes, darling,” he said.
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
“Like when you let me come with you when Mommy had to work? You’re going to deliver my friends’ gifts just like when you bring packages to people, right?”
I froze. I tried to piece the information together before storming in and demanding answers.
Ben wasn’t homeschooling Lily out of some grand educational philosophy that he had been talking about endlessly.
An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney
Instead, my husband was delivering packages. All those days that I thought they were doing lessons… what had really been happening under my roof?
“Get your answers, Mia,” I muttered as I walked into the dining room.
Ben’s face turned white when he saw me.
A close up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“Care to explain what on earth Lily is talking about?” I asked.
My chest felt tight, like I was just holding it all together before some horrible news came out.
Ben let out a long breath, running his hands through his hair.
“Honey, why don’t you go play on the swing or watch some TV?” Ben told her.
We waited until Lily was happily running outside to the swing before Ben said another word.
A little girl sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney
“I… I lost my job, okay? Months ago. I didn’t know how to tell you, Mia.”
I blinked, trying to process his words.
“I didn’t want you to think I was a failure.”
“You lost your job? Then what on earth have you been doing all day?”
“The homeschooling. It wasn’t about Lily’s education. It was because we couldn’t afford the tuition anymore. And I know that a few months ago I wanted her to go to private school, but I couldn’t even afford her public school fees.”
A close up of an upset man | Source: Midjourney
Ben paused, holding his head.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to retaliate.
“I’ve been delivering packages. It’s not stable, but it’s for a few hours a day. I take Lily with me in between her homeschooling. I know you think that I’ve been working in the study and then teaching Lily, too…”
A man holding two boxes | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been delivering packages? Really? This whole time?” I asked, stunned. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to think that I was a failure,” Ben said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to fix this situation. But you know how stressful my job was toward the end. Those hours killed me. I thought that maybe if I could just keep things together for a little while longer…”
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around everything. I wanted to be angry.
I wanted to shout at my husband, not because he lost his job, but because he didn’t want to tell me about it. I understood the pressure of losing your job suddenly and then having to put yourself back together.
When I was pregnant with Lily, I lost my job because they couldn’t afford to keep paying me while I was on maternity leave.
A pregnant woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
But Ben carried us right up until Lily was three years old.
I shook my head now, trying to shake some of my thoughts. I felt… sad. Sad that Ben had felt like he had to hide this from me.
“Ben, you didn’t have to do this alone,” I said, reaching toward him.
He smiled at me sadly.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
We put Lily back into school the next week using our savings. She was overjoyed to see her friends, and the guilt Ben had been carrying around began to lift when he saw her running toward them at the school gate.
As for Ben, he found another job as a grocery store manager. It wasn’t his dream job, but it was honest work that came with medical benefits. And honestly, I think it was just the fact that he was earning properly again that made the biggest difference to him.
A man standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
There was a lightness back in our home that hadn’t been there in a long time. A sense that we were moving forward, together.
What would you have done?
A smiling couple with their daughter | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
Am I Wrong for “Hiding” My MIL’s Birthday Present to My Husband after Finding Out What Was Inside?
Tired of allowing her cold and callous mother-in-law to ruin her husband’s birthday, Lila hides Carol’s birthday present from Bill to save him the hurt and disappointment that usually came with his mother’s gifts. But when Lila’s secret comes out, a series of events unfolds.
I could tell my husband, Bill, was nervous. His birthday was coming up, and every year, his mom’s gift felt like a slap in the face.
Bill sat on our worn-out couch, his shoulders tense.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Do you think she’ll actually care this time?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
I sighed, placing my hand on his. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I knew that I needed to reassure him, but my husband’s relationship with his mother was complicated.
“Maybe,” I said. “But remember, we’re celebrating your birthday, not hers. We’ll have a great time, no matter what, darling.”
A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney
Bill smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I knew how much he wanted to feel loved and appreciated by Carol, but she always failed to show him that. It wasn’t just about the gifts. It was about the feeling.
Bill had told me the story a long time ago. He was his mother’s son from her first marriage, and their relationship was strong, but things took a turn when Carol met her second husband, Adam.
It became even worse when Bill’s younger brothers were born. Suddenly, Carol only had eyes for Adam and their sons, making it clear to Bill that he was no longer a priority in her life.
A mother and her sons | Source: Midjourney
“Okay,” he said. “This year will be different.”
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.
I Found My Son’s Photo in My Client’s Home — Then Uncovered a Disgusting Plan
Life has a cruel way of dragging the past back into your present, even when you think it’s long gone. I never expected that a simple cleaning job would lead me to a horrifying discovery about my ex and a dangerous plan that threatened my son.
So, I’m not usually the kind of person to spill my life online, but this… this is something else. I’m still reeling from what happened last week, and I need to get it off my chest.
A thoughtful and sad woman | Source: Midjourney
I’m Jocelyn, 40, a single mom, and honestly just trying to make it work every day. I’ve been hustling as a cleaner for a while now: scrubbing floors, dusting high ceilings, you name it.
It’s not glamorous, but it keeps food on the table for my nine-year-old son, Oliver, and that’s all that matters. The job gives me plenty of time to think, to plan, and sometimes, to worry.
A tired and worried cleaning lady | Source: Midjourney
I usually work in regular homes, nothing too fancy, but last week I got this new job through my agency. The place was in this upscale neighborhood that looked straight out of one of those reality shows — the kind where people have their own wine cellars and marble statues in the foyer.
I remember rolling my eyes when I came, thinking, “Great, another house with more rooms than people.” But hey, work is work.
The interior of a fancy house with a wine cellar and a marble statue in the foyer | Source: Midjourney
The house was empty when I arrived. Typical. Most of my clients are never home; they just leave the key somewhere discreet. This time, it was under the doormat along with a handwritten note on the marble countertop.
The note had the usual polite instructions: “Please clean the kitchen, vacuum the bedrooms, and make sure to dust the picture frames.” I tucked it into my pocket and got started.
As I moved through the house, I noticed how pristine everything was. The countertops gleamed, the floors were spotless, and honestly, it made me wonder why they even needed a cleaner.
A cleaning lady looking around a fancy house | Source: Midjourney
I tried to shrug off the nerves that were creeping in; this place was giving me weird vibes. The decor felt oddly familiar, like a place I’d been in a dream but couldn’t quite remember.
Halfway through dusting, I muttered to myself, “What is this place, a museum?” The silence was getting to me, so I called Oliver.
“Hey, bud. How was school?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
“Good. We had our art class. I painted a spaceship!” His voice was full of excitement, and it made me smile.
A closeup of a spaceship drawing painted by a kid | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, I forgot about the strange feeling that had been gnawing at me since I got here.
“Sounds awesome, Ollie. Save it for me, okay?”
I needed that little pep talk from my boy. It reminded me why I put up with weird houses and demanding clients.
Soon afterward, I made my way upstairs, figuring I’d tackle the bedrooms next. Each step felt heavier, like my body was picking up on something my brain hadn’t caught onto yet. I started in the guest room, nothing strange there.
A silver and white desk lamp beside a bed | Source: Pexels
Then, I moved on to the master bedroom, and that’s when everything fell apart.
On the nightstand, staring right back at me was a framed photo of Oliver. My Oliver. I couldn’t breathe. It was like my heart had stopped and the world was spinning. I walked closer, slowly, like I was in some nightmare where everything was in slow motion. I picked up the frame with shaking hands.
“What the—” I whispered, my voice barely audible. It was him, alright. Oliver’s goofy grin, the blue paint streaked across his cheek from last year’s school fair.
A happy little boy with blue paint streaked across his cheeks | Source: Midjourney
I remember that day like it was yesterday. But why was his picture here, in this stranger’s house?
Panic set in. My mind went to dark places. Was someone stalking us? Did something happen to him? My stomach twisted. I felt dizzy, desperate to understand. I sank onto the edge of the bed, clutching the frame as if it held the answer to all my questions.
I needed to stay calm, but it was like the room was closing in on me. I could barely think straight. Who lived here? And why did they have a picture of my son?
A cleaning lady sitting beside a nightstand with a photo of a little boy | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t stop staring at that picture of Oliver. My head was spinning, but I knew I had to pull myself together. I set the frame down and started looking around the room, my eyes darting from one thing to the next.
That’s when I spotted more photos — ones that hit like a punch to the gut. There he was, Tristan, my ex, grinning in every frame like he had it all figured out.
A closeup photo of a man grinning | Source: Midjourney
I hadn’t seen Tristan in almost nine years, not since he walked out on us. I could still see him standing in the doorway of our tiny apartment, bags in hand, his eyes cold and distant.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jocelyn,” he had said, his voice flat and unfeeling. Oliver was just a baby, crying in the background, but Tristan didn’t even look back.
“Just like that? You’re leaving us?” I had asked, my voice breaking, but he just shrugged, his face hardening.
A teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney
“You’ll figure it out,” he said, turning away without a hint of remorse. And then he was gone, vanishing into thin air without so much as a goodbye. I’d spent sleepless nights wondering where he was and why he’d left, but after a while, I stopped caring. We didn’t need him then, and we sure as hell didn’t need him now.
But now, it was like he’d been hiding in plain sight, living in this mansion with some glamorous woman: his new wife, judging by the wedding photo on the dresser.
A closeup shot of a bride and groom | Source: Midjourney
She was all dressed up, looking like she’d stepped straight off a movie set, and there was Tristan, holding her close like he was the king of the world. My stomach churned, and anger bubbled up inside me.
I stormed out of the bedroom, pacing the hallway, trying to make sense of it all. “Unbelievable,” I muttered to myself, my voice shaking. “He knew. He had to know I’d be here.” My thoughts were a mess, each one nastier than the last.
Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, I saw the note again, crumpled in my pocket. There was another message at the back, which I most likely missed reading the first time.
A cleaning lady holding a handwritten note | Source: Midjourney
My eyes zeroed in on the last line, scrawled in Tristan’s unmistakable handwriting: “I hear you’re still working these lowly jobs. Make sure the place is spotless. Wouldn’t want Oliver living in filth.”
My blood boiled. This wasn’t just a cleaning job; it was a setup. He wanted to humiliate me, to remind me where I stood in his eyes.
I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. “He thinks he’s so clever, doesn’t he?” I whispered furiously. I could practically see him smirking, thinking he’d won, but he had no idea who he was dealing with.
A man smiling wickedly | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t the scared, helpless woman he left behind. I had built a life from the ground up without him, and there was no way I’d let him waltz back in and make me feel small.
Determined not to let him get the best of me, I marched back to the kitchen, scanning the spotless counters with a mischievous grin. “Alright, Tristan. Two can play this game,” I muttered under my breath. I swapped the salt with the sugar, twisted the caps back on, and moved to the laundry room.
A cleaning lady standing in a laundry room with a clever smile on her face | Source: Midjourney
“Oops,” I whispered as I poured a good splash of vinegar into his expensive-looking detergent bottle. It wasn’t much, just enough to wreak some havoc in his perfect little life.
Before I left, I scribbled a quick note and tucked it under the picture of Oliver. “You might have all the money in the world, but that doesn’t buy love or respect. You abandoned your son once, and you’ll never have the chance to hurt him again. Keep your distance, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”
A cleaning lady smiling while writing a note | Source: Midjourney
I locked the door, feeling both relieved and defiant. My hands were still shaking, but this time it wasn’t from fear. I was proud. Proud that I hadn’t let him reduce me to the woman he once left behind. I had stood my ground, and for the first time, I felt like I had taken a piece of my power back.
A few days later, my phone buzzed with a call from the agency. “Jocelyn, we got a complaint from the client,” the manager said, her voice tinged with concern. “Apparently, the laundry smelled odd and some of the food tasted off.”
A female manager talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
I chuckled, trying to keep my tone casual. “Must have been an off day,” I said lightly, though inside, I was savoring every word. The agency didn’t push it further, and I knew Tristan must have been livid. But I didn’t care. Not anymore.
Later that night, as Oliver and I snuggled on the couch, he leaned into me, his laughter filling the room as he watched his favorite show. I could feel the warmth of his small body against mine, a comforting reminder of why I did everything I did.
A happy little boy sitting in his room | Source: Midjourney
“Mom,” he said, looking up at me with those big, curious eyes, “do you think we’ll ever need more people in our team?”
His question caught me off guard, but I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Maybe someday, Ollie. But right now, it’s just us, and that’s pretty perfect, don’t you think?”
He nodded, grinning as he leaned his head back against my shoulder. “Yeah, just us. We’re the best team.”
I kissed the top of his head, feeling a rush of love and pride. “The best team,” I whispered, my heart full.
A happy mother-son duo | Source: Midjourney
Oliver was my world, and no amount of money or fancy homes could ever change that. I didn’t know if Tristan got my message, but I sure hoped he did.
He’d better stay far, far away because if he ever tried to mess with us again, he’d find out just how strong and fiercely protective I’d become. And maybe, just maybe, he’d learn that you can’t put a price on family.
A woman smiling confidently while sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney
If this story was worth your while, check out another exciting read: Clara and her widowed Dad share a close bond, but his latest romantic move shakes things up. When he calls her the housekeeper to impress his new girlfriend, Clara feels both hurt and angry. Eventually, she decides to teach him a lesson…
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