My son, Michael, surprised me with a cottage in the countryside, but when we got there, I realized it was all a trick. After a while, I discovered the real reason why he did this, and I still can’t forgive him. What would you do?
Hello! My name is Richard, and I’m 68 years old. I never thought I’d be asking strangers for advice, but here I am. I need some outside perspective on this.
For some background: I’ve been a single dad for most of my adult life. My wife, Emma, passed away from cancer when our son, Michael (currently 35 years old), was just ten years old.
It was a difficult time for both of us, but we managed to pull through together.
Since then, it’s been just the two of us against the world. I did my best to be both mother and father to him, working hard to give him every opportunity I could.
Growing up, Michael was a good kid. He had his moments of rebellion, sure, but overall, he was kind, hardworking, and seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.
He did well in school, went to college on a partial scholarship, and landed a good job in finance after graduation.
I’ve always been immensely proud of him, watching him grow into what I thought was a successful adult.
We remained close even after he moved out, talking on the phone regularly and having dinner together at least once a week.
That’s why what happened over a year ago came as such a shock.
It was a Tuesday evening when Michael came to my house, brimming with excitement. “Dad,” he said, “I’ve got amazing news! I bought you a cottage in the countryside!”
“A cottage? Michael, what are you talking about?“
“It’s perfect, Dad. It’s peaceful, serene, and just what you need. You’re going to love it!”
I was taken aback. Move to a cottage far from here? That seemed like too much. “Michael, you didn’t have to do that. I’m perfectly happy here.”
But he insisted! “No, Dad, you deserve it. The house you’re in now is TOO BIG FOR YOU ALONE. It’s time for a change. Trust me, this is going to be great for you.”
I have to admit, I was skeptical. The house I was living in had been our family home for over 30 years. It was where Michael grew up, where Emma and I had built our life together.
But my son seemed so excited, so sure that this was the right move. And I trusted him completely. After all, we’d always been honest with each other.
So, against my better judgment, I agreed to move and sell my house.
The next few days, I was packing and preparing to leave, while Michael handled most of the details. He assured me that everything was taken care of.
He was being so helpful that I pushed aside my lingering doubts.
Finally, the day came for us to drive to my new home. As we got in the car, Michael was chatting away about all the amenities this new place had.
But as we drove further and further from the city, I started feeling uneasy. The scenery became more and more desolate. It wasn’t woodsy or hillside.
Our familiar neighbor and the bustling streets of the city were gone and all that was left were empty, ugly fields, and even an abandoned farm.
The cottages nearby, which Michael knew I had admired and considered buying when his mother was alive, were cozy, homey places, surrounded by nature. This was the opposite.
“Michael,” I wondered, “are you sure we’re going the right way? This doesn’t look like cottage country to me.”
He assured me we were on the right track, but I noticed he wouldn’t quite meet my eyes.
After about another hour of driving, we turned onto a long, winding driveway. At the end of it stood a large, boring building.
My heart sank as I read the sign: “Sunset Haven.”
This wasn’t a cottage. It was a nursing home.
I turned to Michael, trying to quell my emotions. “What is this? What’s going on?”
“Dad,” he said, but couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I said it was a cottage, but… this is better for you. You’ll be taken care of here.”
“Taken care of? I don’t need to be taken care of! I’m perfectly capable of living on my own. Why would you lie to me?“
“Dad, please.” Michael finally turned to me, and his eyes were pleading. “You’ve been forgetting things lately. I’m worried about you living alone. This place has great facilities, and there will always be someone around if you need help.”
“Forgetting things? Everyone forgets things sometimes!” I yelled, and angry tears fell from my eyes. “This isn’t right, Michael. Take me home right now.”
Michael shook his head and dropped the real bombshell of the day. “I can’t do that, Dad. I’ve… I’ve already sold the house.”
I felt like the ground had disappeared from under me. I knew I had agreed to sell, but I had all the time in the world. I wanted to meet the new owners, pick a nice family, and hell, tell them exactly how to care for the old Elm tree in the yard.
How could he have sold it without my knowledge or consent?
I demanded answers, but Michael was evasive. He mentioned something about having power of attorney and doing what was best for me.
I shut down after that, and the next few hours were a blur.
Somehow, I ended up checked into Sunset Haven and was led to a small room with a narrow bed and a window overlooking a parking lot.
The walls were a sickly shade of beige, and the air smelled of disinfectant and old people.
My old home retained the scent of my wife’s cinnamon coffee cake, and I never changed her decor choices. My only upgrades were new appliances when needed, and Michael had given me an Alexa.
But now, this sad, clinical place was my new home.
I couldn’t do anything about it, either. I thought about Michael’s words while I spent the next few days in shock and anger. Was I so far gone that I forgot everything?
Was this the right thing? Had I caused Michael harm? Had I been diagnosed with dementia or something?
I couldn’t imagine any of that, but Michael’s parting look of guilt and concern left me dubious.
The staff at Sunset Haven were kind enough, and they tried to engage me in activities to make me feel welcome. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
It was during an afternoon of more stewing in my feelings that I overheard a conversation that made everything even worse.
I was sitting in the common room, pretending to read a magazine, when I heard two nurses talking in hushed tones nearby.
“Poor Mr. Johnson,” one of them said. “Did you hear about his son?”
“No, what happened?”
“Apparently, he had some pretty big gambling debts. That’s why he sold his dad’s house and put him in here.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Gambling debts? Was that the real reason behind all of this? Had my son sold me out, quite literally, to cover his own mistakes?
I was even more devastated.
The son I’d raised, the boy I thought I knew better than anyone, had discarded me for selfish reasons.
I thought back to all the times I’d helped him out of tight spots, all the sacrifices I’d made to give him a good life.
Luckily, fate intervened in the form of an old friend. Jack, a lawyer I’d known for years, came to Sunset Haven to visit his sister and was shocked to find me there.
When I told him what happened, he was outraged. He offered to look into the legality of what Michael had done.
It turned out that the sale of my house had been rushed, with several legal corners cut in the process. With Jack’s help, I was able to contest the sale.
After a long battle that ended with Michael having to return the money he took from the buyers and pay all the legal fees, I finally got my home back and moved out of Sunset Haven.
Now, here’s where I need advice.
My son has been trying to apologize. He showed up at my house last week, and I hardly recognized him. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept or eaten properly in weeks.
When I let him in, he broke down.
He told me how he’d started gambling to cope with stress at work, how things had spiraled out of control, and how he’d convinced himself that selling my house and putting me in a home was the best solution for everyone.
He swore he’d been getting help for his addiction and was committed to making things right.
“I was wrong, Dad,” he sobbed. “So wrong. Can you ever forgive me?“
Part of me wants to let bygones be bygones. He’s my son, and we only have each other in this world. But another part of me is still so angry and hurt.
How can I trust him again after what he did? He lied to me, manipulated me, and stole my home to cover up his own mistakes.
Even if he’s truly sorry now, how do I know he won’t do something like this again in the future?
What would you do in my place?
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.
Girl Gives the Last of Her Money to Pay a Stranger’s Fine on the Bus, Cries When She Sees Him at Her Prom — Story of the Day
Carly had her whole life ahead of her, but the prom seemed like the most important thing. Despite struggling financially, her mother and grandmother had saved some money for the dress of her dreams. However, one bus trip forced her to choose between her own happiness and helping others.
Carly, a sixteen-year-old girl, lived with her mother, Dina, and grandmother, Holly, in a small, cozy apartment.
Life had never been particularly easy for the family. Money was always tight, and they often had to make sacrifices to get by.
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But despite their financial struggles, the three of them shared a deep bond that made the tough times a little more bearable.
They had love, and to Carly, that love meant everything.
Today, however, was different. Carly could feel the air buzzing with excitement.
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Prom was just around the corner, and though she hadn’t said much about it, she had secretly been dreaming of wearing a beautiful dress to feel like she belonged.
Everyone at school had been talking about their extravagant outfits and fancy plans, and Carly had tried to hide her disappointment, knowing that her family couldn’t afford anything like that.
But this morning, something special happened. Dina and Holly called Carly into the kitchen, where they were both smiling warmly.
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The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, and the sunlight streamed through the window, giving the moment a cozy glow. Dina motioned for Carly to sit down, her eyes sparkling.
“We know how important your prom is to you,” Dina began softly, her voice filled with affection.
“We’ve been saving up, and though it’s not much, we want you to have something special.”
Carly blinked in surprise as her grandmother slid an envelope across the table toward her. Curious, she opened it and saw several bills tucked neatly inside.
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Her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was more than enough to buy a beautiful dress.
Tears of gratitude filled her eyes as she looked up at the two women who had done everything they could to make her feel special.
“Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Grandma,” Carly whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
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Holly reached out and gently squeezed Carly’s hand.
“You deserve it, sweetheart,” she said with a loving smile.
“Now go find the dress that makes you feel like the princess you are.”
Filled with joy and excitement, Carly quickly got ready and headed out to catch the bus to the local dress shop.
She clutched the money tightly in her hand, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.
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She had no idea what was about to unfold, but for now, she was happy and hopeful, imagining the perfect dress that would make her prom night unforgettable.
As the bus rattled along the familiar bumpy roads, Carly sat near the front, clutching the envelope of money her mother and grandmother had given her.
Her heart buzzed with excitement at the thought of choosing something beautiful, something that would make her feel like a princess for just one night. She smiled to herself, imagining the shimmering gowns waiting for her at the dress shop.
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But then, a movement from the back of the bus caught her eye. A man, dressed in shabby clothes and looking quite nervous, sat hunched over in his seat.
He kept glancing around, as if worried someone might notice him.
Carly frowned slightly, finding his behavior strange, but quickly returned to her daydreams about the perfect dress. Maybe something with lace, or maybe satin?
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Suddenly, the bus screeched to a halt, jolting Carly out of her thoughts. Two workers from the bus station stepped on board, walking down the aisle, checking everyone’s tickets.
Carly calmly reached into her pocket, pulling out her ticket when it was her turn. The worker gave it a quick glance and moved on. All seemed normal—until they reached the man at the back.
The man froze, his hands trembling as the worker asked for his ticket. “I… I don’t have it,” he stammered, his voice shaky.
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“I left my wallet at home.”
The workers exchanged annoyed glances.
“No ticket means a fine,” one of them said sternly.
“You’ll have to pay up, or we’ll have to call the authorities.”
Panic washed over the man’s face. “Please, I’m begging you,” he said, his voice trembling even more.
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“I’m trying to get to my daughter. She’s sick, and I have to take her to the hospital. I… I forgot my wallet in my rush. Please, I just need to get to her.”
The bus workers didn’t seem convinced. One of them shook his head.
“We’ve heard every excuse in the book. If you can’t pay the fine, you’ll have to explain yourself to the police.”
Carly, who had been watching the scene unfold, felt a sudden tug at her heart. The man’s desperation was palpable, and she could see the fear in his eyes.
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Something about his story struck a chord with her—she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be so helpless in a situation like that, especially with a sick child waiting for him.
Carly hesitated for a moment before standing up. Her legs felt wobbly as she made her way to the back of the bus.
“Is it true?” she asked softly, turning to the man. “Is your daughter really sick?”
The man looked up at her, his eyes wide and filled with tears. “Yes, she is,” he whispered.
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“I just need to get to her. Please, I wouldn’t lie about this.”
Carly’s mind raced as she glanced down at the envelope of money still clutched tightly in her hand.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more important things than a pretty dress.
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Without thinking too much, she took a deep breath and handed the money to the bus workers.
“I’ll pay his fine,” she said quietly, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and resolve.
“His daughter’s health is more important than anything else.”
The man, whose name she later learned was Rick, stared at her in disbelief.
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“I… I can’t believe you did that,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.
“You’ve saved me. Thank you!”
Carly smiled weakly. “It’s okay. I hope she gets better soon.”
Rick asked her about her school and when her prom would be.
After exchanging a few more words of thanks, he hurried off the bus, racing to get to his daughter. Carly watched him go, her heart heavy.
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She had given up the money for her dream dress, but deep down, she hoped she had made the right decision.
As the bus pulled away, Carly sat back in her seat, unsure of what the rest of the day would bring but feeling a small flicker of hope that she had helped someone in need.
Carly walked home, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions. The excitement she had felt earlier was now replaced with sadness and uncertainty.
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Still, as she reached her front door, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of dread.
When she stepped inside, her mother, Dina, and grandmother, Holly, were both waiting for her, their faces eager to see the dress they had sacrificed so much to buy for her.
Dina’s smile quickly faded when she saw Carly standing empty-handed.
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“Carly, what happened?” Dina asked, concern creeping into her voice. “Where’s the dress?”
Carly hesitated, then explained everything—how the man on the bus had needed money to help his sick daughter and how she had used the money for the dress to pay his fine instead.
As she spoke, Dina’s face turned red with frustration.
“You gave away all the money to a stranger?” Dina exclaimed, her voice rising. “How could you be so naive, Carly? That man could have been lying to you! What if he tricked you?”
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Carly’s chest tightened. She hadn’t considered that she might have been fooled. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the weight of her decision.
Holly, sensing her granddaughter’s distress, stepped forward and wrapped her in a comforting hug.
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“It’s okay, sweetie,” Holly said softly. “You did what you thought was right. Helping someone in need is never wrong. Remember, good things will come back to you.”
But Dina, still upset, added, “That was all the money we had for your prom! What are you going to do now?”
Carly wiped her tears, unsure of how to answer. Though her heart was conflicted, she knew she had acted with kindness, even if it came at a cost.
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The night of the prom arrived, and Carly stood outside the school, feeling a knot of nervousness in her stomach. She had chosen to wear an old, plain dress—one she had worn many times before.
The faded fabric didn’t sparkle or shine like the gowns of the other girls, and as she approached the entrance, she couldn’t help but feel out of place.
She glanced around and saw groups of girls, all dressed in beautiful, expensive gowns.
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Their laughter floated in the air as they twirled in their dresses, showing off the designer outfits they had picked out.
Carly’s heart sank as she overheard some whispers and giggles directed at her. She tugged at the hem of her dress, feeling even smaller and more embarrassed.
Too shy to walk inside with the others, Carly sat down near the entrance, her hands folded in her lap. She felt the weight of the night pressing down on her, and for a moment, she regretted coming at all.
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Then, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.
Startled, Carly looked up and saw Rick, the man from the bus, standing there with a bright smile. Beside him stood a little girl holding his hand.
“Carly, this is my daughter, Haley,” Rick said warmly. “She’s healthy now.”
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Haley beamed at Carly and handed her a gift-wrapped package. Carly hesitated, her hands trembling slightly as she took it.
Rick encouraged her with a nod, and she carefully unwrapped it to find a stunning prom dress inside. Her breath caught in her throat, and tears filled her eyes.
“I don’t know what to say,” Carly whispered, overwhelmed.
Rick smiled. “You’ve already said enough by helping me when no one else would. Now, it’s time for you to enjoy your night.”
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Carly’s heart swelled with gratitude. She quickly changed into the dress and, with a new sense of confidence, walked into her prom, feeling like the princess she had always dreamed of being.
The night felt magical, and Carly smiled, knowing that sometimes, kindness truly does come back when you least expect it.
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