Miranda, a hardworking young Mexican woman, faces a challenge when her ex tries to humiliate her at her job. Miranda is scared to act because her job is at stake, but the pain her ex caused pushes her. Despite the risk of losing her employment, she finds a way to make him pay for his actions.
Miranda’s breakup with her ex had been a public affair, which had plunged her into depression. As an immigrant trying to build a life in a new country, she knew she had to keep working to keep herself afloat. But it seemed like her problems never ended. One day, she was late to her job at the restaurant again and had to explain the situation to her boss, Michael, in the restaurant kitchen.
“I’m really sorry for being late again, Michael. A lot has been happening… my boyfriend and I broke up, and everyone knows about it,” Miranda said quietly.
“Miranda, what happens in your life is your thing, but it’s a problem for me if it messes with your work. I need you here on time, ready to work. This is your final warning,” Michael said seriously.
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Miranda said she’d do better, but things got harder when she saw her ex, Colin, and his girlfriend Leslie, at a table in the restaurant. She asked Michael if she could avoid serving them, but he said no, pointing out the need to stay professional.
“We all have tough stuff to deal with, Miranda. We’re short on people, and I need you to do your job, not run away,” Michael said, not even looking at her.
Miranda had no choice but to serve Colin and Leslie, who were rude and made mean jokes about where she was from.
“Look who we have here, Miranda, serving tables. I guess people from your background really do find their calling in the service industry, huh?” Colin said in a nasty way.
Miranda managed a strained smile and asked if they were ready to order, hiding her turmoil.
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Right then, Colin dropped his fork deliberately, forcing Miranda to retrieve it.
And as Miranda did that, Leslie laughed loudly and clapped. “Look at Miranda! She’s good at picking things up!”
Now, everyone was looking at her, making Miranda feel even worse. She gave the fork back to Colin with a barely steady hand. “Thanks,” Colin said, but he clearly didn’t mean it. “You’re such a team player.”
Miranda tried to stay calm and quickly brought their order, Mexican stew, hoping they would stop being mean. But Colin said the stew wasn’t spicy enough and made a mess by flipping his plate. The mess got all over Miranda’s clothes.
“It’s okay,” she said, trying not to sound upset while she cleaned up. But Leslie kept laughing, and people watched her. So many eyes on her completely shattered the confidence and strength Miranda had tried to muster until now.
She could no longer hold those tears that were welling up in her eyes. She had to go to the kitchen and hide in a corner, and she was so upset she started crying.
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As she broke down into sobs, a voice distracted her. “Here, take this,” it said.
Miranda looked up to see Chef Robert holding a kitchen towel. She knew he was a kind man who helped all his colleagues. Something about his presence made her cry harder as she accepted the towel.
“Look, I don’t want to interfere in your personal life, but you’re stronger than you think, Miranda. You’ve got a spirit that’s much bigger than the problems you’re facing.”
Miranda sniffled, knowing she really needed someone to talk to, so she opened up to Chef Robert. And like a gentleman, he listened as she spoke about her early days with Colin and recalled the time that ruined everything for her. That one time, Colin really wanted to go to a party with her, but she was worried about her schoolwork.
Miranda, Colin, and Leslie were college mates.
“I really should study, Colin,” she had told him. “My grades aren’t looking too good.”
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But Colin shook his head, refusing to accept her no as an answer. “Come on, Miranda. You’re smart, and you work so hard. One night off won’t hurt. Please come with me.”
Miranda was stuck. She liked the idea of spending time with Colin but knew she should study. “Let me think about it. I’ll tell you tonight,” she told him finally.
After they kissed and Colin promised her a fun night, Miranda went back to her room feeling excited but also a bit stressed. As soon as she walked in, her roommate — none other than Leslie — interrupted her.
“What’s going on, Miranda? You look so happy. And where did those flowers come from?” she asked. If only Miranda knew the girl was a wolf in sheep’s clothing…
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“It’s Colin. He’s been so sweet, and I really like him. He invited me to a party, but I’m worried about my exams.”
“Miranda, you’ve got to enjoy life too. Don’t miss out because of exams!” Leslie said. “Come on, this is the time to have fun!”
“Les, I really need to study.”
“You’re a smart cookie, Miranda. Taking one night off won’t mess up your future. Have fun at the party with Colin. Trust me, and GO!”
Feeling a bit more confident that one night wouldn’t hurt her studies, Miranda decided to accept Colin’s invite and called him. “I’ll be there, Colin. This night is important to you, so it’s important to me too,” she said.
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But that night, when Miranda walked into the loud club where the party was, she felt a bit out of place. Colin noticed and handed her a drink, “Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”
Miranda couldn’t say no. As the alcohol kicked in, she forgot about all her worries, enjoying the music and dancing, feeling really free.
The next morning, Miranda woke up in a strange place, her clothes all over the floor. She was scared to find herself undressed, around other girls and boys, also barely dressed, just sleeping around.
As she remembered bits and pieces of the night with Colin, a chill ran down her spine. She quickly called a taxi to go back to her college dorm, worried about what others would think if they found her like that.
Back at college, everyone was whispering and looking at her. Miranda had no idea why.
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She was feeling upset and lonely and really wanted to talk to Leslie, but Leslie wasn’t there. Neither Leslie nor Colin answered her calls. Then, the college dean called her, upset about some embarrassing videos and photos, and mentioned that she would be expelled.
Miranda was devastated and went to find Colin for help. But when she found him, he was with Leslie, and they were both laughing meanly.
“Look who’s here,” Colin sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “Came running back to me, Miranda? Thought I could fix your little problem?”
Leslie’s grin was just as mocking. “Oh, Miranda, did you really think Colin was interested in you? It was all a bet,” she revealed. “Two weeks. That’s all it took for him to get you to play the fool. And now, look at you, practically begging for his help.”
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Miranda felt so hurt and alone as she listened to them laugh at her. She knew they had tricked her and she had lost so much, but she also felt a spark of determination to overcome this.
After sharing the details of her past that brought her to this restaurant as a waitress, Miranda decided she wanted revenge on Colin and Leslie. “Robert, can you help me? Make their food super spicy, just once?” she asked.
Robert was unsure, worrying about the restaurant’s image, but Miranda was firm. “I really need this,” she said. “Please, do this for once?”
Robert didn’t want to do that, but somewhere, he, too, felt people like Leslie and Colin deserved a taste of their medicine. “Alright, Miranda. But let’s keep it low-key,” he suggested.
Miranda mixed up a spicy sauce, not thinking about what might happen to her if her plan was exposed. She was just focused on getting even. “Use this,” she said, giving Robert a sauce-soaked napkin.
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When Colin and Leslie got their food, Leslie mocked her again. “This is spicy? This is what you called a SPICY Mexican stew?” she sneered.
Right then, Colin wiped his mouth with the napkin and was hit by the strong spice. His skin flared a deep red as if he’d been slapped by the very essence of the spice, and his breaths became shallow, desperate gasps.
“Colin, breathe, just try to breathe,” Leslie urged, patting his back. However, when people at the restaurant began to stare and laugh, Leslie’s cheeks flushed red with shame. She realized she had been mean to Leslie, and now, others found amusement in her and Colin’s predicament.
Unable to handle the embarrassment, she blurted out, “This is unbearable! We’re finished!” and quickly left.
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Miranda observed the scene quietly, a hint of a smile on her face. She remembered how they had deceived her, thinking they would be happy together. It seemed fate had other ideas.
Though in pain, Colin loudly yelled that Miranda should lose her job, claiming Miranda ‘messed with his dish,’ and it was then that Michael stepped in with a cool head. He tried the stew and didn’t see any problems. “This dish is perfectly fine, sir. There’s nothing wrong with it,” he declared, spotting the spicy-saturated napkin but discreetly concealing it.
“Also, Miranda’s been with us for a long time. She wouldn’t mess up a meal on purpose,” he said, taking Miranda’s side. At that point, Miranda exchanged a silent look of understanding with her boss, grateful for his help.
Colin looked around for someone to agree with him but found no one. Leslie was gone, and the other customers just watched.
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Then, Michael gave Colin some friendly advice. “You know, Colin, sometimes the heat comes not from the food but from how we act towards others. Maybe think about that, okay?”
Colin was speechless, and Miranda felt a wave of satisfaction. She had found a smart and strong way to stand up for herself and witnessed how empathy and understanding united people.
Michael’s choice to stand up for her and teach Colin about being humble and respectful showed her that even in tough times, there are friends all around.
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When My MIL Handed Me a ‘Good Wife’ Rulebook on My Wedding Day, My Husband Got Rich!
You think you’re entering a dream when you marry the person you love. But that dream can quickly become a nightmare when you receive a list of rules about how to be a “good wife.” This is where my revenge started.
As a child, I always imagined that marriage would be different. I pictured Sunday mornings in bed, sharing laughs and secrets, and a partnership based on love and respect. But reality has a strange way of surprising you.
Dan and I had just gotten married. The wedding was perfect—small, intimate, everything I had always dreamed of. For a while, it felt like a fairy tale. Dan was kind and funny, and I truly believed we shared the same ideas about how we wanted to live our lives together. That was until Karen, his mother, gave me a gift after the ceremony.
I remember standing in our living room, still feeling happy from the wedding, when Karen came up to me with her “special” present.
“This is for you, Lucia. A little something to help you as you start your new role.” She handed me a fancy box with a big smile, but her eyes didn’t match her cheerful expression.
Inside the box was a neatly folded piece of paper. When I opened it, my mouth dropped. At the top, in bold letters, it said: “How to Be a Good Wife for My Son.”
At first, I laughed, thinking it was a joke. Maybe Karen was making fun of those old-fashioned ideas about marriage.
But as I kept reading, my smile faded. It was a real list—actual rules I was supposed to follow as Dan’s wife.
I looked at Dan, hoping he’d be as shocked as I was, but he was busy opening his own gift. A check. A big one, too. And me? I got a rulebook.
Later that evening, Dan came to me with a sheepish grin. “You got the rules my mom gave you, didn’t you?” he asked, as if it were just a casual suggestion, not a guide for a life of serving him.
“Yep… I did,” I replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice but not succeeding.
Dan shifted awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, you know, that’s just how it is now. Marriage is different from dating.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to smile, to say it was all a joke. But he didn’t.
“Wait… You’re serious?” I asked, looking at him like I didn’t recognize the man I had just married.
He shrugged. “It’s just how things are. Mom says it’s important to keep order, you know?”
I bit my lip, holding back a sharp reply. Keep order. That’s how they saw me now?
After Dan fell asleep, I read through the list again, my hands shaking with anger. I couldn’t believe the nerve.
At 6 a.m., I had to be fully dressed and made up, cooking a hot breakfast for Dan. No veggies, no milk, no butter—he only likes plain eggs and toast. The toast must be perfectly golden brown, and it has to be served on a blue plate because the green one ruins his appetite.
Do all the grocery shopping myself. Dan hates shopping, and it’s no place for a man. Always buy his favorite beer, but not too much—just enough for football nights, but not so much he gets lazy. And I had to carry everything in myself because it’s unladylike to ask for help.
After dinner, the kitchen had to be spotless before Dan even left the dining room. Men shouldn’t see a mess; they must enter a clean space. And always stack the plates by size, wiping the counters twice because Dan hates crumbs.
Dress conservatively when Dan’s friends come over. We don’t want them thinking I’m too “modern” or that I’m not the “right kind of wife.” A good wife never wears anything above the knee, and the neckline should always be high. Anything else would embarrass Dan in front of his buddies.
Make sure Dan never does his laundry. A good wife always has fresh, ironed clothes ready, and socks folded just right—three folds, not two—because that’s how Dan likes them. He should never have to pick out mismatched socks or wear a wrinkled shirt. It reflects poorly on me if he does.
By the time I finished reading, I was furious. This wasn’t just outdated advice; it was a full-on expectation that I cater to Dan’s every wish like I had no other purpose.
And the worst part? Dan was okay with it. He hadn’t even reacted when I mentioned the rules.
I felt trapped, but I wasn’t going to let them get away with this. If they wanted to play this game, I’d play along, but on my terms.
The morning after I read Karen’s list, I woke up at 6 a.m., just like the rules said. I got out of bed, put on my makeup, and slipped into a nice dress.
I looked at myself in the mirror, quietly laughing at how silly this all was. But if Karen wanted me to play this part, I would—just with a twist.
I went downstairs and made breakfast, just like the rules said: plain toast and eggs. But I didn’t stop there. I took the tiniest slice of toast and a plain boiled egg and put them on Dan’s huge blue plate. The plate was so big that the small meal looked ridiculous.
I carefully set it on the table, smiling sweetly as Dan walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
He looked at the plate, confused. “Isn’t there… anything else?”
I shook my head, smiling brightly. “Just following the rules. Plain eggs and toast! Want me to make another slice?”
Dan sighed, picking up the toast. “No… this is fine.”
I stood there watching him eat the driest breakfast ever, trying not to laugh. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.
Later that afternoon, I made a big show of going to the grocery store. I took my reusable bags and left the house, making sure Dan saw me go by myself, just like the rules said.
When I got back, I carried in all the bags myself, even the heavy ones. Dan watched from the couch, clearly uncomfortable but saying nothing. As I unpacked, he frowned.
“Where’s the beer? Did you forget it?” he asked.
“Oh no, I didn’t forget,” I said cheerfully. “I just didn’t want you getting lazy. Besides, sparkling water is good for you!”
I pulled out a six-pack of sparkling water, a big bottle of green juice, and some quinoa, knowing he wouldn’t touch any of them. Dan’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. I could see he was starting to realize something was off, but I was just getting started.
After dinner, I followed the other rules in the letter. I wiped down the counters, washed the dishes, and cleaned the kitchen—but not really.
Instead of putting everything back where it belonged, I rearranged the whole kitchen. Plates went in the bathroom cupboard, utensils in the laundry room, and the toaster? I put that in the hall closet.
Dan came into the kitchen, looking around in confusion. “Why is everything all over the place?”
I turned to him with a worried look. “I’m doing my best! Maybe I need to wipe the counters three times instead of two?”
He blinked at me, totally confused, but he let it go. The fun was just beginning.
When Dan’s friends came over for football night a few days later, I made sure to follow Karen’s rule about dressing modestly. I dug through my closet and found the most old-fashioned outfit I could: a long skirt, high-collared blouse, and a buttoned-up cardigan that looked like something from the 1800s.
As soon as Dan’s friends arrived, I walked into the living room with a tray of snacks. His friends looked me up and down, confused but polite enough not to say anything.
Dan pulled me aside as soon as he could, whispering, “You know you don’t have to dress like that, right?”
I widened my eyes innocently. “But your mom said I have to dress modestly. We wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea about me, would we?”
Dan’s friends exchanged awkward glances, but I kept smiling sweetly. The look on Dan’s face was priceless; he was starting to see that I was flipping this whole “good wife” idea upside down, and he was stuck going along with it.
Laundry day came, and I followed the rules again, but with a twist. I washed all of Dan’s clothes together: whites, darks, colors—everything went in one load. When I pulled them out, his once-clean shirts were now a lovely shade of pink, and his socks were either shrunk or mismatched.
Dan opened his drawer the next morning, pulling out one wrinkled pink shirt after another. “What happened to my clothes? These socks don’t even match!”
I walked in with an apologetic look. “Oh no! I must’ve messed up. I’ll try folding them in threes next time, just like the rules say.”
He groaned, putting on his mismatched socks before heading to work, completely defeated. I couldn’t help but smile.
By the end of the week, Dan had had enough. He was trying to eat yet another bland breakfast when Karen arrived, her usual smile on her face. She sat at the table, looking pleased.
“Lucia, I’m so glad to see you following the rules! Isn’t life easier now?”
I laughed quietly. “Oh, Karen, you have no idea.”
Dan slammed his fork down, surprising both of us. “Mom, we need to talk.”
Karen blinked, confused. “Talk about what?”
“These rules… they’re crazy,” Dan said, his voice rising. “I’m miserable, Lucia’s miserable, and this isn’t how we’re going to live.”
Karen looked shocked. “But, Dan, I just want to make sure you’re taken care of! I thought this was how marriage should be!”
Dan shot me a glance, and I shrugged. I was just following the rules, right?
“We need to find our own way,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re my wife, not my maid.”
Karen’s face fell, her smile fading. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t mean to upset you both…”
But it was too late. The damage was done. We spent the next few days talking about what we wanted our marriage to look like, finally finding a balance between his mom’s outdated ideas and our modern life.
The change didn’t happen overnight, but eventually, we found a way to laugh about the whole ordeal, especially when Dan had to explain to his mom why he was now making breakfast for me on Saturdays.
Karen never brought up the rules again, and I made sure to return the fancy box she gave me, filled with the crumpled paper and an assortment of mismatched socks. I told her I didn’t need them anymore.
Looking back, I can’t help but think that her gift, while ridiculous, actually brought us closer together. Dan and I learned how to communicate better, and we established what we wanted from our marriage without anyone else’s rules getting in the way.
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