I was ten when my mother decided I was a burden. She had a new family and I didn’t fit the picture. So she got rid of me and gave me away like I was nothing to raise her “perfect son.” My grandma took me in and loved me. Years later, the woman who abandoned me showed up at my door… begging.
There’s a moment when you realize some wounds never heal. For me, that moment came at 32 as I stood at my grandmother’s grave. The only person who had ever truly loved me was gone, and the woman who gave birth to me and abandoned me stood across the cemetery, not even looking in my direction.
I hadn’t seen my mother in years. Not since she decided my brother was worth raising… but I wasn’t.
A grieving woman in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
The rain fell in sheets that day, soaking through my black dress as I watched them lower Grandma Brooke’s casket into the ground. My mother, Pamela, stood under an umbrella with her perfect family — her husband Charlie and their son Jason… my replacement and the “golden” child worthy of her love.
She didn’t cry. Not really. She just dabbed at her eyes occasionally for show.
When it was over, she turned and walked away without a word to me, just like she had 22 years ago when I was ten. I remained rooted to the spot, alone with the fresh mound of dirt that covered the only parent I’d ever really had.
“I don’t know how to do this without you, Grandma,” I whispered to the grave.
A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney
I was born from a brief affair and I was an inconvenience my mother never wanted. When I was ten, she married my stepfather Charlie and gave birth to their “perfect son” Jason. Suddenly, I became nothing more than a reminder of her past mistake.
I still remember the day she told me I wouldn’t be living with them anymore.
“Rebecca, come here,” she called from the kitchen table where she sat with Grandma Brooke.
I walked in, hope blooming in my chest.
A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, Mom?” I asked. She rarely spoke directly to me anymore.
Her eyes were cold and distant. “You’re going to live with Grandma now.”
The words didn’t make sense at first. “Like… for the weekend?”
“No,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “Permanently. Grandma’s going to take care of you from now on.”
I looked at Grandma, whose face was tight with anger and grief.
“But why? Did I do something wrong?”
A sad little girl looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” my mother snapped. “I have a real family now. You’re just… in the way.”
Grandma’s hand slammed the table. “Enough, Pamela! She’s a child, for God’s sake. Your child.”
My mother shrugged. “A mistake I’ve paid for long enough. Either you take her, or I’ll find someone who will.”
I stood there, tears streaming down my face, invisible to the woman who gave birth to me.
“Pack your things, sweetheart,” Grandma said gently, wrapping her arms around me. “We’ll make this work, I promise.”
An annoyed older woman | Source: Midjourney
Grandma’s house became my sanctuary. A place where I was wanted and where someone’s eyes lit up when I walked into the room. She hung my artwork on the fridge, helped with my homework, and tucked me in every night.
Still, the wound of my mother’s rejection festered.
“Why doesn’t she want me?” I asked one night as Grandma brushed my hair before bed.
Her hands paused. “Oh, Becca. Some people aren’t capable of the love they should give. It’s not your fault, honey. Never think it’s your fault.”
An upset girl | Source: Midjourney
“But she loves Jason.”
Grandma resumed brushing, each stroke gentle and soothing. “Your mother is broken in ways I couldn’t fix. I tried, God knows I tried. But she’s always run from her mistakes instead of facing them.”
“So I’m a mistake?”
“No, honey. You are a gift. The best thing that ever happened to me. Your mother just can’t see past her own selfishness to recognize what she’s throwing away.”
An older woman with a kind smile | Source: Midjourney
I leaned into her embrace, breathing in the scent of lavender that clung to her clothes.
“Will you ever leave me too, Grandma?” I whispered.
“Never,” she said fiercely. “As long as there’s breath in my body, you will always have a home with me.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
A disheartened girl looking up at someone with hope | Source: Midjourney
When I was 11, Grandma insisted we visit for a “family dinner.” She thought it was important to maintain some connection, however tenuous. Deep down, I hoped my mother realized what she’d thrown away and welcome me back with open arms.
Walking in, I saw her doting over my brother, laughing and proud… like she had never abandoned me. One-year-old Jason sat in a high chair, mashed potatoes smeared across his chubby face. My mother wiped it away with such tenderness it made my chest ache.
She barely glanced at me.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, forcing a smile.
She frowned. “Oh! You’re here.”
A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney
My chest tightened, but I swallowed the hurt and reached into my pocket. I pulled out a small, slightly crumpled handmade card. I had spent hours on it, carefully folding the paper, writing “I Love You, Mom” in my neatest handwriting on the front.
Inside, I had drawn a picture of our family — me, my mother, my stepfather, my baby brother, and my grandmother. I had colored it with the few markers I had, making sure to give everyone a smile. Because that’s how I wanted us to be… a real, happy family.
With hopeful eyes, I extended it toward her. “I made this for you.”
A desperate little girl holding a sheet of paper | Source: Midjourney
She barely glanced at it before passing it to my brother. “Here, honey. Something for you.”
I froze. That gift wasn’t for him. It was from me to my mother.
“I-I got that for you.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, what would I need it for? I have everything I want.”
Everything. Except me.
A shattered girl | Source: Midjourney
Years of neglect hung between us. My grandmother shot me a sympathetic glance, but I forced a smile. I wouldn’t let them see me break.
“Dinner’s ready,” Charlie called from the dining room, oblivious to the moment or choosing to ignore it.
“Come on,” my mother said, lifting Jason from his high chair. “The roast will get cold.”
That was the last time I ever wanted to see my mother. After that night, I stopped trying. And she didn’t seem to care. Not long after, she moved to another city and only called my grandmother occasionally. But she never called me.
Shot of an airplane passing above high-rise buildings | Source: Unsplash
Years passed. I grew up, became a successful woman, and built a life of my own. I went to college on scholarships, got a job in marketing, and bought a small house near Grandma’s cottage. I dated, sometimes seriously, but relationships were hard. Trust didn’t come easily when my own mother couldn’t love me.
Grandma was my rock through everything. She never missed a graduation, a birthday, or a milestone. She hung my college diploma next to her achievements. She made sure I knew I belonged.
But time is relentless. My grandmother, my true parent, grew older too. Her hands became gnarled with arthritis, her steps slower, and her memory was sometimes foggy.
An older woman walking in a park | Source: Pexels
“Remember when you tried to teach me to bake cookies and we set off the smoke alarm?” I asked one afternoon as we walked in her beloved garden.
She laughed, the sound still musical despite her 78 years. “The neighbors thought the house was on fire. That fireman was so handsome, though… I almost didn’t mind the embarrassment.”
“You flirted with him shamelessly,” I teased.
“Life’s too short not to flirt with handsome firemen, Rebecca.” She patted my hand. “Promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“When I’m gone, don’t waste time on bitterness. Your mother made her choice, and it was the wrong one. But don’t let that choice define your life.”
Close-up shot of a young woman with her grandmother | Source: Freepik
I felt a chill despite the summer heat. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She smiled sadly. “We all go somewhere eventually, honey. Just promise me you’ll live fully. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
“I promise,” I whispered, resting my head on her shoulder like I had countless times before.
Three months later, she was gone. A stroke in her sleep. “Peaceful and a blessing, really,” the doctor said.
But it didn’t feel like a blessing to me.
A woman shaken to her core | Source: Midjourney
I was 32 when I buried her. My mother arrived with her family, but I never really saw any remorse in her eyes. She didn’t even look at me during the service.
The house felt empty without Grandma. I wandered from room to room, touching her things — the crocheted blanket on the couch, the collection of ceramic birds on the mantel, and the worn cookbook in the kitchen with her handwritten notes in the margins.
God, I missed her so much.
Just a few days after the funeral, there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, I froze.
It was my mother.
A desperate senior woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney
She looked older, gray threading through her dark hair, and lines around her eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before. But her eyes were the same — distant and calculating.
“Please,” she whispered, gripping her purse with white-knuckled hands. “I just need to talk to you.”
Every instinct in me screamed to shut the door and walk away. But something in her tone, something almost… defeated, made me pause.
I crossed my arms. “Talk.”
An annoyed woman with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
She exhaled, looking down before meeting my gaze. “Your brother knows about you.”
My breath hitched. “What do you mean?”
“Before she passed, your grandmother sent him a message. And told him everything.”
I swallowed hard.
“He was too young to remember you, Rebecca. And I… I didn’t let your grandmother talk about you to him. I told her if she did, she’d never see him again.”
My stomach churned. It was worse than I imagined. My mother not only abandoned me… she ERASED me.
A happy little boy walking on the road | Source: Pexels
She must have seen the horror on my face because she rushed to explain. “I thought I was doing the right thing! You had your grandmother, and I had my family —”
“You had a family,” I cut in. “You decided I wasn’t part of it.”
Her lip trembled. “He won’t speak to me, not since he read the message last night. His phone fell in the water and had been switched off for days… and he’s just gotten the message from Grandma after turning it on last night. He’s mad at me for hiding you from him. I need you to talk to him. Tell him I’m not a monster.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Not a monster? You abandoned your daughter at ten, pretended she didn’t exist, and threatened your own mother just to keep your secret. What would make you a monster, then?”
A guilty woman | Source: Midjourney
Tears welled in her eyes, but they didn’t move me. I had shed enough tears for her years ago.
Still, despite everything, I hesitated. Not for her, but for my brother.
I spent my life believing he had forgotten me. But he never had the chance to know me at all. He was just a child, manipulated by a woman who only saw me as an obstacle.
“I’ll take his number,” I said flatly.
My mother exhaled in relief, but her face fell when she realized what I meant. I wasn’t calling for her. I was calling for him.
A furious yet composed woman | Source: Midjourney
“You can give him my number,” I clarified. “If he wants to talk to me, that’s his choice. And if he doesn’t want to talk to you…” I shrugged. “That’s his choice too.”
“Rebecca, please —”
“Goodbye, Mom,” I said, and slowly closed the door.
I met Jason a week later at a quiet café across town, my heart pounding as I saw him walk in. He was tall, with dark hair like our mother’s, but his eyes were kind.
An upset man in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
He looked nervous but when he spotted me, something in his expression softened.
“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth.
I stared at him. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But I…” he swallowed hard. “I didn’t know. She never told me. I only found out because of Grandma’s message. I can’t believe she did that to you.”
I studied his face, searching for any sign of dishonesty. But there was none. He was just a kid when it happened. He hadn’t chosen this.
A smiling woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“You’re nothing like her, Jason.”
His shoulders sagged in relief. “I’ve been so angry since I found out. It’s like… everything I thought I knew about Mom was a lie.”
“How did you find out exactly?”
Jason ran a hand through his hair. “I got this email from Grandma. It had pictures of you, stories about you… things Mom never told me. And a letter explaining everything.”
“She was always clever,” I said, a sad smile tugging at my lips. “Even from beyond the grave, she was looking out for us.”
A man lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
“She wrote that she promised not to tell me while she was alive because she was afraid Mom would cut me off from her completely.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine being forced to make that choice. It’s so cruel.”
“That’s who Mom is,” I said. “She makes everything a transaction.”
He nodded, then pulled out his phone. “I have the pictures Grandma sent, if you want to see them?”
We spent the next hour looking at photos of a life intersected but separate. Grandma had documented everything for him, creating a bridge across the chasm our mother had dug between us.
A smiling man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney
“I always wanted a sibling,” Jason said quietly. “I used to beg for a brother or sister. Mom always said she couldn’t have more children after me. Another lie.”
“You know,” I said, pushing my empty coffee cup aside, “we can’t change the past. But we can decide what happens next.”
He nodded, a tentative smile crossing his face. “I’d like to know my sister, if that’s okay with you.”
For the first time in over two decades, I let myself feel something I never thought I’d have again — a connection to family that wasn’t built on obligation or pity.
“I’d like that,” I said. “I’d like that very much.”
A cheerful woman | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, we talked more. I told him about my life, about how Grandma raised me, and how I spent years wondering if he ever thought of me.
And he told me about our mother. About how she had always been controlling, suffocating, and never allowed him to make his own choices.
We met at a park on a crisp autumn day, walking along paths covered in fallen leaves.
“Mom’s been calling me nonstop,” he said. “Showing up at my apartment. She even contacted my work.”
“That sounds like her. When she wants something, she doesn’t stop.”
People walking in a park | Source: Pexels
“She always acted like the perfect mom, Rebecca. I thought she was just overprotective, but now I realize… she’s just selfish. Everything has always been about her image, her comfort, and her needs.”
“Has she always been like that with you?”
He kicked at a pile of leaves. “Yeah, I guess so. I just didn’t see it clearly until now. Nothing I did was ever quite good enough unless it made her look good too.”
We both knew, at that moment, that neither of us owed her anything.
Portrait of a smiling man | Source: Midjourney
Weeks passed. I built a relationship with my brother, the one thing Mom had tried to keep from me. And she kept calling, sent messages, and even showed up at my door again.
But this time, when she knocked, I didn’t answer. She had made her choice 22 years ago. And now, I had made mine.
On what would have been Grandma’s birthday, Jason and I met at her grave. We placed her favorite yellow daisies and stood in silence.
“I wish I’d known her better,” Jason said. “Really known her.”
“She would have loved you,” I told him. “Not because you’re perfect, but because you’re you.”
A bouquet of yellow daisies on a gravestone | Source: Midjourney
As we walked back to our cars, something caught my eye across the cemetery. A familiar figure stood watching us.
Our mother.
Jason saw her too and tensed beside me.
“We don’t have to talk to her,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, we don’t.”
We got into our cars and drove away, leaving her standing alone among the gravestones.
A sad woman in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
In the end, family isn’t always who gives birth to you. Sometimes it’s who sees you and chooses to stay. Grandma chose me. And in her final act of love, she gave me back the brother I never knew.
Some wounds never heal completely. But around the scars, new life can still grow.
People holding hands | Source: Pexels
Rich Groom Mocks Poor Mother-in-Law on Wedding Day Until She Takes Mic and Gives a Toast — Story of the Day
A groom mocked his bride’s poor mother because she came without an invitation. But when she shocked everyone after taking the mic and giving a wonderful toast, that’s when he learned a lesson he never imagined.
“I can’t believe she showed up,” Ethan grumbled under his breath while holding his bride’s hands. They were on the altar, and he had just noticed that his mother-in-law, Ada, had just walked in and sat down in the last row. He thought his future wife, Dalia, didn’t invite her mother.
“Please, Ethan. Let it go,” Dalia said quietly. She bit her lip and was waiting for her groom to make a scene, but he sighed and tried to contain himself.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The truth is, Ethan didn’t want Dalia’s mother there for several reasons, and he didn’t understand why she had appeared. He didn’t hate the woman, but she shouldn’t be there. She didn’t belong. She scared him.
***
Ethan’s family was from old Connecticut money. The kind of money that never runs out, even through generations. Unlike the rest of his family, Ethan had fallen in love with Dalia without considering the future or how much money she had. Normally, his family arranged marriages with other affluent families or with convenient people.
The couple reached her, and although Ethan was sweating, he took the envelope in his hands. He browsed the papers inside and his jaw dropped.
However, as soon as he saw the hard-working law student at Yale during their first Torts class, Ethan fell in love. She was feisty and was not afraid to speak her mind, and he was hooked immediately.
When they started dating, he was sure that Dalia had to come from money too. She never wore expensive clothes or anything, but she held herself up like the women in his family.
Some people believed the highly wealthy showed off their riches with clothes, cars, and other fancy things. But like that saying, “Money talks, wealth whispers,” the women in Ethan’s family were not flashy or ostentatious with their wealth, although they did take advantage of their privileges. He was sure that Dalia had to come from riches somehow.
He was completely blindsided when she told him the truth. She was a scholarship student who worked all her life to get to where she was. Her mother was a laundress for many wealthy families in the area and raised her alone.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
He was not too proud to admit that he almost broke up with Dalia at that point. He didn’t think they would work, and he also felt that she might have taken an interest in him because everyone at school knew him and his family.
“I don’t care about your money at all, Ethan. But I can’t stop you if you don’t want to be with me. Go date someone from your country club or whatever,” Dalia had scoffed at him when he told her his concerns.
“I don’t want a country club girl, Dalia. But it’s a genuine concern. Isn’t it for you? Do you think you’ll fit in?” he asked her sincerely.
“Please, I’ve dealt with snobby rich people looking down on me and my mother all my life. I don’t need this from you. In fact, my mother even told me you were not the one for me, so maybe she was right,” Dalia commented, shrugging, and grabbed her purse to leave his apartment.
“What? What do you mean? Wouldn’t any mother want their daughter to date a rich man?” Ethan questioned, baffled at the idea that a single, poor mother could hate him.
“Not my mom. She raised me to be independent. Ethan, I love you for you. But if you don’t believe that, we don’t have to be together,” Dalia continued and was almost out his door when he stopped her.
“No, please. Stay. Let’s talk,” he begged, and Dalia stayed.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
They agreed to continue dating, but the idea that Ada hated him never left Ethan’s mind. Unbeknownst to him, he started to fear the woman.
All the women he had dated before Dalia had mothers who were ecstatic with the idea of Ethan becoming part of their family. It was a given. He was the perfect bachelor. He had a stellar reputation in the community. He was smart. He had a steady future laid out for him. In short, he was a mother-in-law’s dream.
But not to Ada, who he refused to meet for years, making excuses every time Dalia tried to introduce them.
When he proposed, and she agreed, Dalia finally asked why he didn’t want to meet her mother.
“I just… don’t want to. I also don’t want her at our wedding. She won’t have a good time, and my family will mock her for her job and everything. It’s for the best, Dalia,” Ethan lied to his fiancée, not knowing how to express the truth. He still didn’t understand the truth.
“But I can’t get married without my mother, Ethan. She’s my world,” Dalia insisted.
“I’m meant to be your world now. So it’s either my way, or we don’t get married,” Ethan said, putting his foot down.
Dalia was not happy about it and tried to bring up the subject many times afterward. However, he didn’t budge, and eventually, she stopped saying anything. He thought that meant she wouldn’t invite Ada to the wedding.
***
However, the woman showed up. Ethan recognized her as soon as she got closer because he had seen her in Dalia’s pictures. She was dressed in what looked like a cheap new dress and was smiling. Ethan looked down and tried to focus on the pastor’s words.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
When the ceremony finished, they smiled and posed for pictures for the family. But when they went into a private room, he wanted to scream at his new wife.
“Please, don’t. I never agreed not to invite my mother. She is my mother. You get to have all your family here, and I also have a right to do so. So deal with it. You don’t have to be chummy with her or anything. But you’ll meet with her and act politely, or I’ll file for annulment immediately!” Dalia warned, her hands on her waist and looking stern.
“Fine,” Ethan muttered unhappily.
They exited the private room and went to the reception, where they were greeted by family, friends, and tons of people who came to congratulate them.
It wasn’t until an hour later that Dalia finally brought her mother to Ethan and introduced them for the first time.
“Mom, this is Ethan. I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet earlier,” she said, her tone a bit ashamed.
“Nice to meet you, dear. I wish you would’ve come to my house at some point. I wanted to cook for you and meet you personally,” Ada said, smiling brightly.
Ethan swallowed hard and shook the older woman’s hand. “Hmm, I’m sorry about that. Maybe after the honeymoon,” he responded, knowing he would do anything never to keep that promise.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Excellent,” Ada smiled, and Dalia smiled too.
The whole situation should’ve been entirely expected, but it wasn’t. Not for Ethan. He felt pressure in his chest. He felt fear. He realized he was intimidated by Dalia’s mother. But why?
She was a laundry woman, skinny, poor, and frail. He had dealt with ruthless business people who dealt with his father and had already faced nail-biting situations as a lawyer. So why was he afraid of this old woman?
She was just his mother-in-law, and he had nothing to fear. Nothing. Literally. He tried to calm down, but the feeling didn’t go away.
At some point, Dalia went with her bridesmaids to dance, and the groomsmen joined Ethan. He didn’t realize Ada was nearby when the boys started talking about his new mother-in-law.
“Yeah, well, Dalia comes from nothing, but now she has me. She can forget her old life. I didn’t want to invite that poor old woman, but what can I do?” Ethan mocked, and his buddies laughed. They were all rich too.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Yeah, well, Dalia doesn’t have to worry about money ever again with you, dude,” his friend, Austin, laughed, and the pressure on Ethan’s chest eased with the banter. They continued to mock the poor old lady, although she had been nothing but pleasant to Ethan in their brief encounter. He never expected what she would do next.
***
A few hours into the party, it was finally time for the speeches. Ethan’s best man and Dalia’s maid of honor spoke first. They were their friends from their Yale days. However, Ethan’s chest tightened again when he saw Ada getting up on stage and taking the microphone.
“Good evening, everyone. I’m Ada, Dalia’s mother, and I also want to give a toast. Can you believe that I just met the groom today? Well, he didn’t want to meet me, apparently. He was mocking me with his buddies earlier this evening,” the older woman started, and Dalia turned to Ethan with a sharp look.
“Well, I’m sure you all know I don’t come from this amazing wealth. I actually don’t have much money, but I did my best with Dalia. She is my pride and joy; she loves Ethan more than anything, and I know she doesn’t care about money. That’s how I raised her,” Ada continued. “And I’m glad to know that everyone here accepted her, even with her background. Thank you for that… Now, I have a gift for the newlyweds. Can you come here, darlings?”
Ada signaled for Ethan and Dalia to join her on stage, and the older woman produced an envelope. The couple reached her, and although Ethan was sweating, he took the envelope in his hands. He browsed the papers inside, and his jaw dropped.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Dalia asked him about it, and he could only whisper, “She bought us a house.”
“With all my hard work and years of scrimping, I managed to buy my daughter a house. Nearby, actually, and I hope you can start your family there. I love you, Dalia. And I hope, Ethan, that in time, you can love me too,” Ada finished, and the whole room erupted in cheers, standing for the woman.
Dalia hugged her mother and cried terribly, not caring that her makeup was running. When they separated, the poor older woman turned to her new son-in-law with a tentative grin.
Ethan was sweating, and his eyes had watered. “I’m so sorry,” he choked. “Thank you.”
Ada only grinned wider and hugged him to her chest. She had forgiven him easily. There was no animosity in her heart for Ethan. Her daughter loved him, and she had to believe it was because he was a good man.
As Ada held him in his arms, Ethan realized something. He was afraid and intimidated by this older woman because… she made it all on her own.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The people in his life had been rich for generations. He didn’t know a businessman, friend, or colleague who was self-made. His friends were wealthy. His colleagues too. Dalia was self-made, but she somehow always seemed like old money.
Ada, however, was a thoroughly average – almost poor person – and she was there. She had successfully raised a thriving daughter and had spent all her hard-earned money on a house even though he knew she didn’t have one of her own.
Ethan couldn’t understand how someone could make it in this world without all his privileges, so he was afraid to be near her. He couldn’t measure next to her. He would crumble in her circumstances. He would fail. He was… nothing… without his money, and the realization was staggering.
“Son, don’t think about it twice. You’re forgiven. We’re family now. Just… make my daughter as happy as you can,” Ada said in his ear so no one else could hear, and he promised himself he would do that.
When they separated, the party started. Ethan’s parents thanked Ada for the house and they talked all night. Ethan apologized to Dalia for mocking her mother; his bride was just as understanding as his new mother-in-law.
“I will never do something like that again, and your mom will be invited to our house and all our events all the time,” he promised as they danced the night away.
Dalia nodded. “You bet she will.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
They went on their honeymoon, after which they moved into the house Ada bought them. It was huge for newlyweds, and even Dalia couldn’t believe how her mother had afforded such a luxurious place.
As they furnished the house, Ethan realized he didn’t want to stand in his father’s shadow or his family’s extensive wealth for the rest of his life. He decided to quit his job and start his own practice with Dalia, where they helped lower-income clients with their cases. His life was no longer about money; for the first time, he felt complete.
Money had driven his every move forever; now, it felt like he was cleared of it. He stopped caring about luxuries, vacations, fancy cars, or even his wealthy friends. Those things didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was Dalia, Ada, his family, and the interests of his clients.
Years later, during a special anniversary dinner, Ethan’s father, Ferdinand, pulled him aside and told him how proud he was of him.
“I was going to kick you out of the practice back then after Dalia’s mother talked about you mocking her, but then you quit, and I couldn’t have been more surprised. What you’re doing now… is unbelievable. It’s what you dream of doing when you’re a young lawyer who only wants justice for the world,” Ferdinand said in a serious, heartfelt tone. “I thought I had raised a spoiled boy. But you are my pride and joy.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Ethan smiled at the words, similar to what Ada had said about Dalia at their wedding, and once again, he felt whole. As he watched his family enjoying the dinner and each other’s company, he understood that this was worth more than all the money in the world.
What can we learn from this story?
- It’s never right to make fun of people due to their financial or social status. Ethan mocked his mother-in-law only to realize why he did it and how wrong of him it was.
- Money is important to survive, but it’s not everything. Ethan discovered that life was more than your paycheck or how much money your family had when he married Dalia and met Ada.
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 bride who walked down the aisle only to discover that her groom was marrying another woman.
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.
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