Um senhorio sem coração dá um aviso a uma mulher que não paga o aluguel. Mas quando ele vai à casa da irmã para um jantar em família, ele fica chocado ao encontrá-la lá.
A vida é dura, e se torna ainda mais dura se os corações que nos cercam são feitos de pedra. Diane Salinger sabia sobre a vida. Aos sessenta e dois anos, ela tinha visto muito mais dias escuros do que ensolarados e chorou muitas lágrimas.
Mas Diane não era o tipo de mulher que desistia. Toda vez que a vida a derrubava, ela se levantava, pronta para lutar novamente. Ela havia perdido o marido três anos antes, então um tornado arrasou sua casa. Mas ela apenas pegou as estacas e começou tudo de novo.
Mesmo quando Diane explicou por que estava com o aluguel atrasado, Chris não demonstrou simpatia. | Fonte: Shutterstock.com
Ela pegou suas economias e comprou uma pequena mercearia em uma cidadezinha de médio porte em Michigan. Era perfeita para ela. Uma cidade grande o suficiente para apreciar alguns dos itens exóticos que ela pretendia levar, pequena o suficiente para ser aconchegante e quente.
Aconchegante e caloroso pode descrever a comunidade em geral, mas não o senhorio de Diane, Chris Turkle. Foi de Chris que Diane alugou seu pequeno apartamento a uma curta distância da loja.
Quando as coisas ficam difíceis, é importante estarmos presentes um para o outro.
Até onde isso ia, Diane era a inquilina perfeita. Ela era quieta, não danificava a propriedade e sempre pagava o aluguel em dia. E então, um mês, ela estava com falta.
Chris abriu o dinheiro que havia tirado do envelope na frente de Diane e balançou na cara dela. “Faltam US$ 120, Sra. Salinger.”
A casa de Diane foi destruída por um tornado. | Fonte: Unsplash
Diane corou. “Como eu estava explicando, Sr. Turkle, já que muitas das pequenas empresas têm lutado durante a Covid… Bem, eu estendi crédito para algumas famílias necessitadas… E este mês, estou um pouco sem dinheiro. Mas você sabe que eu sou boa nisso! Eu vou pagar os $120 em duas semanas…”
“Se você está disposta a afundar interpretando Madre Teresa, esse é SEU problema”, Chris retrucou. “Eu, Sra. Salinger, sou um homem de negócios, não uma instituição de caridade! Quero você fora até o fim da semana!”
“Mas, Sr. Turkle…” Diane protestou. “É só por uma semana, e não vai acontecer de novo!”
Diane abriu uma pequena e adorável mercearia. | Fonte: Unsplash
“Aconteceu uma vez, e é o suficiente para mim, Sra. Salinger. Você está FORA.” Chris disse friamente, e ele virou as costas e saiu. Ele se sentiu bastante justificado. Ele tinha visto a mercearia de Diane, e ela fazia bons negócios.
Sempre havia pessoas entrando e saindo com pesadas sacolas de compras cheias de produtos de aparência deliciosa, e sua seção de delicatessen, ele tinha ouvido falar, era extremamente popular. “Falta de dinheiro mesmo!”, ele bufou para si mesmo. “Aproveitar é o que é!”
Chris foi para casa e se preparou para ir jantar na casa de sua irmãzinha. Vanessa era sua irmã favorita, e ele frequentemente se preocupava com ela. Ela havia se casado e se divorciado de um homem que parecia estar constantemente desempregado, e Vanessa trabalhava em dois empregos para sobreviver.
Ele se ofereceu para dar ao filho de 16 anos dela um emprego de fim de semana, mas Vanessa sempre recusava, corando. “Está tudo bem, Chris”, ela dizia. “Eu vou me virar!” Mas Chris tinha visto as sombras escuras sob os olhos dela e o quão fino seu rosto estava ficando.
Um mês, Diane estava com o aluguel atrasado. | Fonte: Unsplash
Era o aniversário do sobrinho, então Chris colocou uma nota de $20 em um envelope e colocou no bolso do paletó. Então ele foi até a porta e andou os três quarteirões até a casa de Vanessa.
Ele bateu na porta, e Vanessa o recebeu com um sorriso feliz. Ela parecia mais relaxada e muito mais feliz. O que quer que ela estivesse cozinhando para o jantar tinha um cheiro delicioso, e sua boca encheu d’água.
“Olá!” ele disse, beijando-a na bochecha. “Onde está o aniversariante?”
“Jogando videogame com Diane!” Vanessa sorriu. “Entre!” Vanessa andou até as escadas e gritou: “Joss, Diane, desçam! É hora do jantar!”
“Quero você fora até o fim da semana!” | Fonte: Unsplash
Para desgosto de Chris, entrou a Sra. Salinger, a inquilina que ele tinha acabado de expulsar de sua propriedade, e ela parecia ter ótimas relações com seu sobrinho e sua irmã! Diane ficou igualmente chocada ao ver Chris, mas ela estava admiravelmente fria.
“Olá”, ela sorriu. “É bom ver você. Eu não sabia que você era irmão da Vanessa…”
Chris corou e limpou a garganta. “Ehr…Sim, minha irmã mais nova…você sabe…”
“Vamos, pessoal”, gritou Vanessa. “O assado vai esfriar!”
Chis ficou chocado ao ver Diana na casa de sua irmã. | Fonte: Pexels
“Assado!”, gritou Joss. “Esse é o meu favorito… Mas mãe, eu sei que você só recebe na semana que vem! Como podemos pagar isso?”
Diane sorriu para Joss e deu um tapinha em sua mão. “Não se preocupe com isso”, ela disse. “O crédito da sua mãe é bom comigo. Isso cheira INCRÍVEL, e eu estou morrendo de fome!”
Em voz baixa, Chris se inclinou e perguntou: “Vanessa é a pessoa que você está ajudando?”
Diane sorriu. “Ela é uma delas”, ela respondeu. “Talvez ela não tenha te contado, mas um dos trabalhos dela não deu certo, então estou apenas ajudando até que ela se recupere.”
Chris sentiu uma onda de vergonha colorir suas bochechas. “Sinto muito por… você sabe… Mas por que Vanessa não vem até mim?”
O jantar foi um assado maravilhoso da loja de Diane. | Fonte: Unsplash
Diane disse gentilmente: “Sabe, todos nós temos nosso orgulho. Vanessa quer se sustentar sozinha e criar seu filho. Ajuda de um amigo é uma coisa — ser um parente pobre pedindo caridade é outra.”
Chris sussurrou: “Vou te dizer uma coisa: de agora em diante, você tem o apartamento pela metade do preço. Pode chamar isso de um investimento no bem-estar da cidade e da minha irmã!”
No final da noite, Chris descobriu que Diane era uma mulher muito adorável e engraçada e que ele gostava muito da companhia dela. Naquela noite, sua percepção de sua comunidade mudou. Ele seguiria o exemplo de Diane. Ele daria uma mãozinha.
Depois daquele jantar, Chris começou a ajudar a comunidade. | Fonte: Unsplash
O que podemos aprender com essa história?
- Quando as coisas ficam difíceis, é importante estar lá um para o outro. Diane estava ajudando discretamente as pessoas mais pobres da cidade vendendo-lhes comida a crédito que ela sabia que eles nunca poderiam pagar.
- Ser capaz de admitir que você está errado e mudar seus caminhos é algo extraordinário. Chris não só percebeu que estava errado sobre Diane, mas também começou a ajudar aqueles que estavam lutando.
Compartilhe esta história com seus amigos. Pode alegrar o dia deles e inspirá-los.
Se você gostou desta história, talvez goste desta sobre uma garota curvilínea que chega a um jantar e descobre que seu noivo está lá com uma mulher assumindo sua identidade.
My Husband’s Cousin Came to Stay with Us Temporarily with Her Child – If Only I Had Known It Was All a Setup
When Derek’s cousin Daisy and her son arrive, it seems like an innocent favor. But strange comments, awkward glances, and hidden tension hint at a darker truth. Then comes the devastating revelation: Daisy isn’t his cousin, and Patrick isn’t his nephew. Shattered by betrayal and blindsided by lies, Rebecca is forced to unravel the secrets her husband tried to bury. Can trust survive a truth this explosive, or is it already too late?
When my husband told me his cousin Daisy and her son Patrick needed a place to stay for a couple of weeks, I didn’t think twice. He said they’d fallen on hard times and just needed a little help to get back on their feet.
“Of course,” I said. “Family is family.”
A woman and her son sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I mean, really? Before Derek and I were married, I had financial issues, too. It had been a struggle and a half to get myself out of my study loan debt, among other things.
So, what would it say about me if I didn’t reach out to help my husband’s family?
That was a month ago. If only I knew how deeply those words would cut.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When Daisy and Patrick arrived, everything seemed fine. At first, Daisy was polite but reserved, and I chalked it up to shyness. She wasn’t particularly warm toward me, but toward Derek?
She was a different person altogether!
She was animated, laughing at his jokes and chatting like they’d known each other forever. I ignored the faint flicker of discomfort that rose in my chest.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
They were family.
Right?
Patrick, though, was another story. At first, he was just an energetic eight-year-old. But within days, he turned into a whirlwind of chaos.
A little boy playing with his toys | Source: Midjourney
Crumbs littered the living room floor, sticky handprints appeared on the walls, and his toys became landmines scattered across the house.
The worst part?
He didn’t listen. I once asked him to clean up after himself, and he threw a tantrum, flinging cushions from the couch.
“You’re not my mother!” he shrieked. “I don’t listen to you!”
I finally had enough one evening.
An upset little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Patrick,” I said firmly, abandoning the light and caring attitude I wanted to initially use with him. “I need you to understand that you’re a guest here. Act properly. Behave. This isn’t your home.”
His reply made my stomach drop.
“No, Rebecca,” he said, spitting out my name. “My mom told me this is our home now.”
I stared at him, unsure if I’d heard him right.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Excuse me?
It had to be a misunderstanding, I told myself. Kids misinterpret things all the time, and Daisy probably said it to make the move easier on him.
But his words stayed with me, a tiny splinter in the back of my mind.
The real unraveling began a week later, during a casual lunch with Derek’s sister, Ashley. She’d come by to invite us to a family dinner, and the three of us were sitting outside, enjoying lemonade and plates of spaghetti. Daisy had taken Patrick for ice cream and a walk to the park.
A little boy holding an ice cream cone | Source: Midjourney
At some point, she turned to me with a warm smile.
“You’re a saint for letting them stay here, Becca,” she said.
I waved her off with a laugh, spearing a meatball with my fork.
“Stop it! It’s your family. How could I turn your cousin and nephew away? Why wouldn’t I let them stay?”
A plate of food | Source: Midjourney
Her fork froze midway to her mouth.
“Wait. So he didn’t tell you?” she gasped.
My chest tightened.
“Tell me what? Ash? Derek?”
Ashley’s eyes darted to Derek, who was suddenly very interested in his glass of lemonade.
A man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, my god. Becca…” she whispered. “You really don’t know…”
“Know what?” My voice wavered as the splinter in my mind turned into a dagger.
Ashley’s face paled.
“Daisy isn’t our cousin, Becca,” she blurted out. “She’s Derek’s ex-girlfriend. And Patrick? He’s their son.”
The room tilted.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I had to grip hard onto the edge of the table to steady myself, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“What are you talking about?” I croaked, though deep down, I already knew the answer.
Ashley looked stricken.
“I thought you knew, Becca! Derek told the whole family he’d explained everything to you. Our mother told him that he had to tell you the truth before you got married. Daisy was raising Patrick with her then-boyfriend, but Derek was sending child support to them!”
A talking older woman | Source: Midjourney
She sighed deeply, remorse filling her lungs. I knew she hated being the one to tell me.
Then, her gaze snapped to him.
“You said you told her!”
Derek didn’t meet my eyes. My stomach churned as every odd moment from the past month clicked into place.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Daisy’s reserved demeanor around me, her easy laughter with Derek, Patrick’s defiant declaration. I felt like the biggest fool on earth.
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor.
“You have to get back to work. I have to clean up here and log onto a meeting. I will be at your office in two hours. And you’re going to explain everything.”
Derek’s face clouded and then cleared. He nodded.
An upset man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. I’ll push my meetings, Becs,” he said, leaving.
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” Ashley said, picking up the empty plates. “I truly thought that Derek was a man of his word.”
“It’s not your fault, babe,” I said. “This is on him. But I need you to know that whatever happens next has nothing to do with you. Okay?”
She nodded meekly and began to wash the dishes.
A woman busy at the sink | Source: Midjourney
At Derek’s office, I waited in a small conference room, my heart still hammering. When Derek walked in, he looked like he’d aged ten years in the span of an hour.
He sat across from me, his shoulders slumped.
“Start talking,” I demanded.
He exhaled shakily, avoiding my gaze.
A conference room | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, Daisy is my ex-girlfriend,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And Patrick is my son.”
The words hit like a wrecking ball.
“You lied to me,” I said. “You looked me in the eyes and lied. You allowed me to set up the guest room, to turn my home office into a makeshift kid’s room? You watched all of that, and you didn’t think about telling me the truth?”
A cozy guest bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t know how to tell you, Becca,” he stammered. “It was years before we met. Daisy and I broke up before Patrick was born. I’ve always supported him financially, but I kept my distance. When Daisy reached out, she said that she needed help. And I felt obligated. That’s my son, after all.”
“Obligated?” I spat. “You lied to me about who they are! You let me believe they were your cousin and nephew! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”
“I know,” he said, tears pooling in his eyes. “But I was scared. I thought it would push you away. I thought it would be easier this way. I’m sorry. I’ll tell Daisy and Patrick to leave tonight if that’s what you want.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
His desperation might’ve softened me on any other day, but right then, it only made me angrier.
“They should’ve left the moment this charade started. You’ve disrespected me in every way possible.”
He didn’t try to argue.
“You’re right,” he whispered. “I’ll fix this.”
The next few days were excruciating.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
Daisy avoided me entirely, and Patrick kept to his room, his usual chaos replaced by an eerie silence.
Derek threw himself into damage control, arranging for Daisy and Patrick to move into a rental while simultaneously begging for my forgiveness.
I confronted Daisy once, though.
“Why would you go along with this lie?” I demanded, watching her make her way through my kitchen while she made a sandwich.
A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
She flushed with shame, almost dropping the jar of mayonnaise.
“I didn’t want to lie,” she said softly. “But Derek thought it would be easier. I’m sorry. I never wanted to cause problems.”
Her apology didn’t heal the wound, but it clarified one thing for me:
This disaster was Derek’s making.
A jar of mayonnaise | Source: Midjourney
Once Daisy and Patrick moved out, the house felt unbearably quiet.
Derek tried everything to make amends. He left me notes apologizing for his lies, attended therapy on his own, and took on every household chore without being asked.
His remorse was evident, but my trust in him had been shattered.
A man busy in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
It took weeks of reflection, long conversations with my best friend, Sharon, and more than a few sleepless nights before I made my decision.
“Just know what you’re getting into, Becca,” Sharon said, stirring her matcha latte. “I’ll support you, of course, but please, think about it from all sides.”
One evening, I called Derek into the living room. He sat across from me, his face tense with anticipation.
A matcha latte | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not ready to forgive you, D,” I began, my voice steady. “But I’m willing to try.”
Relief washed over his face, but I held up a hand.
“This is your last chance, Derek,” I said firmly. “No more lies. No more half-truths. If you want this marriage to survive, you have to earn back my trust.”
“I will,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “I promise.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Rebuilding our marriage won’t be easy, and part of me wonders if it’s even possible.
But for now, I’m taking it one day at a time. I’ve learned one thing through all of this. Trust isn’t something you can take for granted.
It’s fragile.
As for Derek? He’s on thin ice. And if he thinks I’ll ignore the warning signs ever again, he’s dead wrong.
So now, I have to figure out how to be a stepmother.
A close up of a couple | Source: Midjourney
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