Caroline got a job as a cleaning lady in New York and went to her first assignment. It was a beautiful house in Manhattan, but something shocked her. There was a picture of her mother in the office. Then a man walked in.
“I’m going to do a great job,” Caroline psyched herself up in front of her first assignment. She and her friend, Melissa, moved to New York a few days ago to make their dreams of being Broadway stars come true.
But they needed to find jobs first to rent an apartment together. Luckily, Melissa got hired at a clothing store, and Caroline got a job at an agency for domestic cleaners.
It was perfect. It wasn’t that time-consuming, and she loved cleaning because it had a calming effect on her. Moreover, if no one else was home, she could practice her singing voice.
Caroline was going to her first assignment as a cleaning lady. | Source: Shutterstock
Unfortunately, her mother’s face popped into her mind before walking into her first home. Her mother, Helen, didn’t want her to chase after such silly dreams, much less live in New York.
Caroline was born and raised in Philadelphia, which wasn’t that far away. She didn’t have a father, and her mother never said a word about him. For some reason, Helen really hated New York. She also sheltered Caroline all her life, which was why she had to escape.
When she and Melissa planned their move, she knew her mother would not allow it. Caroline suspected she may even fake an illness just to get her to stay. But Caroline needed to fight for her dreams. It was her life. So, she left a tiny note on her mother’s dresser when she was asleep and ran away.
It had been several days, and Helen had not called her, which was weird. But Caroline assumed she was probably mad at her. Hopefully, she would get over it once Caroline debuted on Broadway. Now, it was time to focus on cleaning this house.
According to the agency director, an older man lives in the house alone, so it was not particularly messy in the first place. When Caroline finally walked inside using the key under the mat as was instructed, she wasted no time to start cleaning — first, the kitchen, then the living room, and moving towards the bedroom.
She noticed the pictures above the mantelpiece. | Source: Unplash
“I’m almost done, sir. But may I ask a question? Who is this woman?”
She hesitated a bit right at the entrance of a serious-looking office, but there were no instructions against coming in. She resolved not to touch too much around the desk and continued cleaning.
There was a beautiful fireplace with a mantelpiece on top and huge bookshelves along the opposite wall. It was the kind of office Caroline had only seen in movies.
She tidied as quickly and thoroughly as she could but stopped short at the mantelpiece. There were several pictures on top, but one caught her attention. A picture with her mother’s face. She was at least 18 years younger, but it was her. “Why is my mother in this man’s pictures?” she wondered out loud.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps and an older man entered the office. “Oh hello there! You must be the new cleaning lady. I’m Richard Smith. I own this house,” the man introduced himself with a warm smile. “Are you done in here already?”
“I’m almost done, sir. But may I ask a question?” Caroline hesitated, hoping that the man wouldn’t be mad if she asked about the image. “Who is this woman?”
The man moved closer to see what picture she was talking about. | Source: Pexels
“Who?” he wondered, moving closer to her and putting on his glasses. “Ah yes. That’s Helen. She was the love of my life.”
Caroline’s senses started pinging. “What happened to her?” She couldn’t help but ask.
“She died during a bus crash. She was pregnant at the time too. I couldn’t even go to the funeral because her mother hated me. It was crazy… I tried to move on and never did. To this day, I still love and miss her,” Richard responded, removing his glasses and moving towards his chair.
“Sir, I’m sorry to intrude like this, and thank you for telling me. But this woman… she looks so much like my mother. It’s insane,” Caroline revealed.
The older man frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“Well, my mother, Helen, looks exactly like this woman. Obviously, she’s older now, but the resemblance is uncanny. I’m 98% sure this is her,” she continued, facing Richard but gesturing toward the photograph.
Richard dialed right there from his desk. | Source: Pexels
“Helen? Your mother’s name is Helen? Where did you grow up?”
“Philadelphia,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders. Her eyes widened now that she realized that if that was Helen, then this man might be her father.
Richard covered his mouth with his hands. “This is not possible…” he whispered. “Can I have your mother’s phone number?”
“Sure,” she said and gave it to him.
“Can you stay here while I call her?” he requested, and Caroline agreed.
He dialed right there from his office phone, and her mother’s voice answered after a few rings. “Hello? Is it you, Caroline?”
Richard looked up at Caroline for a second but decided to speak up first. “Is this Helen Geller?”
“Yes. Who am I speaking to?” Helen asked from the other end of the line.
He told her about the alleged bus crash. | Source: Pexels
“Helen, it’s Richard,” he continued, his voice starting to get emotional.
“Richard, who? Wait a minute. Richard Morris? What do you want after all these years?” Helen asked, her voice hardening for some reason.
Caroline and Richard started at each other in confusion, but he continued. “What do you mean after all these years? I thought you were dead!”
“What?”
Richard explained what he knew of the alleged accident when he had lost his future wife and unborn baby. He also explained how Helen’s mother didn’t allow him at the funeral and refused to tell him anything afterward. But Helen had no idea what he was talking about and told him what she knew.
“My mother told me that you called and decided you wanted nothing to do with me. So I raised my daughter on my own,” Helen revealed, and Caroline was shocked by this turn of events.
Caroline wanted to make it on Broadway first. | Source: Pexels
“That’s not… Helen, I would never abandon you. I never moved on. I still thought of you every day. I mourned you. I’ve been in pain thinking about you and our kid for almost two decades,” Richard continued, but Helen was quiet.
“I can’t believe Mom would do this. But well, that was her way. I don’t know what do now,” Helen finally stated. “Wait. How did you find out I was still alive?”
“Mom, I’m here,” Caroline chimed in at last. She hurriedly explained what happened and reassured her mother that she was fine in New York.
“I can’t believe this is happening at all. I can’t even ask my mother why she would do something so cruel to us. She died years ago. But anyway, when are you coming back home, Caroline?” Helen asked, in a firmer voice toward her daughter.
“I’m not coming back until I make it on Broadway. And now, well… now I have another reason to stay here,” Caroline continued, looking at Richard with a tiny smile.
They broke the ice with one silly statement. | Source: Pexels
“Fine, but I’m coming up to New York soon,” Helen said and hung up. Richard and Caroline started at each other in silence for a few moments before either of them spoke up.
“So, I guess you’re my dad,” she chirped. He laughed, and that’s how they broke the ice.
What can we learn from this story?
- Let your children pursue their dreams. Caroline ran away because her mother was overprotective. You should guide your children but let them decide what to do with their lives.
- Some parents don’t have your best interests at heart. Helen’s mother did something horrible to her and Richard, and they would never know why.
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On Valentine’s Day, I Woke up to Find My Car Covered in Paper Hearts — It Looked Cute Until I Picked One up and Read the Message
On Valentine’s Day morning, Kate stepped outside expecting a sweet surprise. Her car was covered in hundreds of pink paper hearts, fluttering in the wind like a love-struck teenager’s confession. But when she picked one up and read the message, her stomach dropped. This wasn’t love. It was a warning.
I woke up that morning just like any other, slipping out of bed while Brandon remained curled under the blankets.
A man sleeping in his bed | Source: Pexels
After 28 years of living together as a married couple, our lives had settled into a predictable rhythm. I always woke up early, made coffee, prepared breakfast for our 17-year-old son, and enjoyed a few quiet moments before the day fully began.
Valentine’s Day wasn’t a big deal in our house. It never really had been. Boredom had long replaced passion, and grand romantic gestures had never been Brandon’s thing.
So, when I glanced outside and saw my car covered in paper hearts that morning, I actually gasped.
A car covered in hearts | Source: Midjourney
For a brief, stupid moment, my heart swelled.
Had he done this? After all these years?
My heart pounded against my chest as I stepped outside. The sight was almost ridiculous.
Hundreds of pink paper hearts were plastered all over my car’s doors and windows. There were even some stuck on the mirrors. It honestly looked like the car belonged to some teenage romance movie, like my teenage boyfriend was trying his best to impress me.
I smiled, thinking my husband had finally decided to surprise me after nearly three decades together.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
Excited, I walked toward my car to take a closer look and realized that every heart had a note inside.
Wow, that’s a brilliant idea! I thought.
Then I picked one up and read the message underneath. I stared at it for a few seconds, unable to understand why my husband would write such a thing.
It read, Your husband is a liar.
Was this some kind of a prank? A joke?
A close-up shot of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
I felt my heart skip a beat as I ripped off another paper heart.
It read, Brandon only loves me.
Another.
He’ll never tell you the truth.
I felt a knot in my stomach and my heart almost flipped inside my chest. I quickly grabbed the hearts and yanked them away as fast as I could.
One by one, they revealed the same kind of message.
You deserve to know.
He was with me last night.
Ask him about the woman he’s been seeing.
A woman holding a paper heart | Source: Midjourney
I tried pulling the hearts off faster, but the glue was thick, stubborn, and far stronger than expected. It completely ruined the look of my car. Every time I yanked one away, it left behind an ugly smear of adhesive on my pristine car.
Soon, neighbors started peeking from their windows. I could feel their eyes on me as they whispered amongst themselves.
They had seen this before I had.
They had already put the pieces together before I even had a chance to process what was happening.
A neighbor peeking out of her window | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed, forcing myself to look up at my house, and saw Brandon at the window. He had been silently watching me all this time.
I turned back to the car as I pulled one last paper heart.
It read, He’ll never choose you.
The words blurred as tears filled my eyes.
Happy Valentine’s Day to me.
I quickly rushed back into my house and slammed the door behind me.
A doorknob | Source: Pexels
My pulse pounded in my ears as I marched straight to the kitchen. I found Brandon sitting at the counter, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.
I threw one of the paper hearts onto the counter.
“What the hell is this, Brandon?” I asked in a shaky voice.
I couldn’t even speak properly because of how angry I felt.
He barely glanced at the paper before looking at me.
“What are you talking about? I don’t know who did this.”
A man sitting in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Seriously, Brandon?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You saw me from the window, right? All those hearts on my car… they’re talking about you and some woman you’re seeing. And you’re saying you really don’t know who did this?”
Brandon picked one of the hearts and read the message inside before putting it back down.
“It’s probably a prank,” he said as he sipped his coffee. “Must be some stupid kids messing around.”
Liar.
I knew that tone. That measured, even voice he used when he wanted me to second-guess myself. The same one he had used in every minor argument over the years, making me feel like I was overreacting.
But not this time.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
I turned away from him and stomped toward the security monitor in the living room. My fingers flew over the controls as I rewound the footage from the night before.
And there she was.
Linda.
Our neighbor.
At 3 a.m., under the dim glow of the streetlights, she was gluing those damn hearts onto my car.
What the heck? I thought. Brandon and Linda? They’re together? How is this even possible?
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
My throat tightened as I recalled every moment when I saw Linda standing outside her house as Brandon left for work. She’d been our neighbor for as long as I could remember, but I never once suspected Brandon had an affair with her.
If my husband wasn’t going to tell me anything, then there was only one thing I could do. Confront Linda.
I immediately stormed next door and banged on her door so hard it rattled.
A few seconds later, it swung open, revealing Linda’s face. It looked like she’d been crying. Like she already knew why I was there.
A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
“How long?” I asked calmly.
Linda swallowed hard, her lip trembling. “Twenty years.”
The ground beneath me felt unsteady.
I shook my head. “You’re lying.”
She let out a sad, breathy laugh. “I wish I was.”
I stared at her, hoping she’d take her words back and say it was all some kind of an elaborate joke.
But instead, she spoke again.
A woman talking to her neighbor | Source: Midjourney
“He told me he’d leave you. Over and over again, for two whole decades. He just needed the right moment. He told me you weren’t well… that you couldn’t handle a divorce. That he had to stay because he felt sorry for you. I can prove it.”
I couldn’t process her words. I couldn’t believe my husband had spent twenty years living a double life.
How was I not able to see it?
I rushed back home without saying a word. It was time to confront Brandon before I asked her for proof.
He was sitting in the living room, scrolling through his phone again.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
“Linda just told me everything,” I said, crossing my arms while looking straight into his eyes.
“She’s lying,” he said. “She’s obsessed with me. She’s been coming on to me for years, but I never—”
“Prove it,” I cut him off.
“What?”
“Prove it,” I repeated, stepping closer. “Because it looks like she’s got twenty years’ worth of stories, Brandon. She told me how you needed the right moment to leave me. I’m sure she’s got much more to tell me about your affair.”
A woman arguing with her husband | Source: Midjourney
“Babe, I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said. “I don’t have proof because there’s nothing to prove, okay?”
I scoffed. “Convenient.”
His expression didn’t change. No panic. No anger. Just that same infuriating calm.
“I swear to you, Kate. I have never been with her,” he began.
I stared at him, searching his face for a flicker of doubt, guilt, or anything real. But all I saw was the same blank mask he always wore when he lied.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
Without wasting another minute, I turned around and marched straight back to Linda’s house.
She opened the door before I even knocked, as if she had been waiting.
“Show me proof,” I demanded. “If you have it, he’s yours.”
She didn’t hesitate. She pulled out her phone, scrolling furiously before shoving it into my hands.
And there it was.
Photos. Videos. Messages.
A woman using a phone | Source: Pexels
There was a photo of Brandon with her at a hotel, their hands intertwined across a candlelit dinner table. Then, there was another one that showed him slipping into her house at night.
She even shared messages where Brandon promised her that he’d leave me. And that they’d live together happily.
The proof in her phone showed a side of my husband I had never known existed.
My legs felt weak, but I forced myself to stand tall.
I didn’t cry. Not yet.
I handed her phone back. “Thank you.”
A serious woman | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I decided to file for divorce.
When I told Brandon about it, he still said Linda was lying. He swore the photos, videos, and text messages were fake. He even claimed Linda had been stalking him for years and had fabricated everything.
“Trust me,” he said. “I’ll prove she’s lying. My lawyers will take care of everything.”
And that’s exactly what happened.
The lawyers dug into the evidence. They found inconsistencies in the timestamps of the videos and digital alterations in the photos.
A lawyer in his office | Source: Pexels
It turned out Linda had hired a tech expert to forge messages, splicing together old voicemails and using AI to create fabricated conversations.
The supposed hotel footage was traced back to a manipulated stock video, and every single piece of “proof” she had provided fell apart under scrutiny.
And that’s how Brandon saved our marriage from falling apart. That’s how he stopped me from filing for divorce.
I don’t know why Linda did what she did, but it looked like she had spent 20 years in love with a man who had never been hers.
I guess she had been waiting for something that never existed.
A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney
That night, as we sat in the dimly lit living room, I finally spoke.
“I’m sorry, Brandon,” I whispered. “I should have believed you.”
He exhaled slowly, setting down his glass of whiskey. “Kate, after all these years, do you really think I could do that to you?”
“No, but…” I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I love you,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I always have.”
I nodded. “I know.”
A woman smiling at her husband | Source: Midjourney
After everything that happened, I sued Linda for damaging my car. Soon, she was forced to pay for the repairs and deep-cleaning. We even got a restraining order against her.
But at night, when Brandon’s asleep beside me…
I still wonder.
What if the lawyers were wrong?
What if, somewhere in that pile of lies and fabrications… there was one truth?
And what if I had just chosen the wrong side?
A woman looking outside a window | Source: Midjourney
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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