While standing in the church with the man she loved the most, a young woman looked at the priest when he asked if anyone had a problem with the marriage. Suddenly, an elderly man barged into the church, telling the priest he was against the wedding.
“You’re gorgeous!” Myron told Hilary minutes after meeting her at a party for the first time.
Hilary felt butterflies in her tummy when she saw him look at her from head to toe. It had been ages since a man last complimented her, and she couldn’t recall what it felt like when a man held her hand while looking into her eyes. Her last relationship was nothing short of miserable because of her ex’s anger issues.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
However, meeting Myron at her friend’s party gave her a ray of hope. It made her feel she could try her luck again and date this man who looked at her like she was the most beautiful girl in the room.
Myron stayed by her side the entire evening, cracking jokes while telling her everything about him. He wanted to impress her during their first meeting because he thought she was the perfect girl for him.
The following day, Myron and Hilary met in a park, discussing their interests, goals, and life problems while walking together. Their discussion only made them grow closer, compelling Myron to ask her for a date the next day.
“Hilary, I think you are the girl I have been looking for all this time,” Myron said. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“What?” Hilary’s hands went to her face, covering everything except her glistening eyes and forehead. She couldn’t believe the man she had met two days ago wanted to start a relationship with her.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” Myron repeated his question, looking into Hilary’s eyes.
“Yes!” she exclaimed and wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll be your girlfriend, Myron.”
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Hilary was delighted to start a relationship with him because her last relationship had left her heartbroken. She believed Myron’s love would help her heal, unaware he was keeping secrets from her.
However, when Hilary told her parents about it, a grain of doubt crept into their minds.
Soon, Hilary introduced him to her parents, and he took no time to win their hearts. He told them he had lost his parents at a young age and missed them a lot.
“Don’t worry,” Hilary’s mother said. “We are your parents now, okay? You can share everything with us. We’re always here to support you!”
Hilary felt relieved when her parents accepted her boyfriend. Their approval made her believe she had made the right choice by dating him and thought she was ready to spend the rest of her life with him.
The couple dated for five months before Myron made his next move. He took Hilary to an expensive restaurant on a date and knelt while everyone looked at him.
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“Hilary, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share all my happiness and sorrows with you,” Myron said. “Will you marry me?”
While others in the restaurant gasped, Hilary couldn’t believe Myron had proposed to her in front of so many people. She felt her heart skip a beat when she saw him on his knees, looking straight into her eyes, waiting for an answer.
“Yes!” Hilary said as she held his hands and pulled him up, wrapping her arms around him while tears trickled down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe the man she loved the most wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
Since Hilary was head over heels in love with Myron, she didn’t feel that everything was happening too quickly. A man she had only known for five months suddenly wanted to be her life partner, but she couldn’t sense that the timing of his proposal was too odd.
However, when Hilary told her parents about it, a grain of doubt crept into their minds. They thought it was strange of Myron to propose to her too soon, but their suspicions vanished when they talked to him and saw how much he admired their daughter. Soon, the couple began preparing for their wedding, unaware that fate wouldn’t allow them to tie the knot.
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During the preparations, Hilary noticed many things about her soon-to-be husband that she had never seen before. During one of the discussions, she noticed Myron was interested in the material side of things.
“I’m so excited about all the stuff people will bring us!” he said, his eyes sparkling with greed.
“There’s going to be a lot of expensive gifts. I can’t wait!”
Although Hilary did not say anything to him then, she thought it was strange of him to think about the gifts. She wanted him to talk about their relationship, future, and how they would support each other after marriage, but it seemed like Myron was interested in other things.
“I guess he’s just acting immature,” Hilary thought, unaware of Myron’s plans.
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A few days before the wedding, Myron came to Hilary’s house and told her something she wasn’t expecting. “I think we should have a prenuptial agreement. What do you suggest?”
“Yes, I think that’s a smart decision,” Hilary said after a moment’s thought. “We should be prepared for the worst.”
“Exactly!” Myron exclaimed. “I think we should add a clause that states that if you initiate a divorce, you would have to pay up a fortune!” he chuckled coldly.
She thought it was strange of him to bring up a prenup, and she couldn’t be entirely sure if he was joking about it.
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Later that day, Hilary called her lawyer and asked about the clause. She thought Myron was acting selfish, but the lawyer assured her this clause was quite common.
“Don’t worry, Hilary,” the lawyer said. “The same rule would apply to Myron if he initiates divorce.”
“He would pay me the same amount?” Hilary asked.
“Yes,” the lawyer replied.
“You don’t have to worry about anything. Most people add this clause to their prenup agreement.”
Hilary felt relieved after talking to her lawyer and felt terrible for thinking Myron was greedy. She called him and said she was ready to sign the prenuptial agreement. However, another strange incident made her doubt his intentions.
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A few days later, Hilary was cleaning Myron’s cupboards when she stumbled upon a divorce certificate with Myron’s name. “What is this, Myron?” Hilary immediately confronted him. “You never told me you were married!”
“Hey, calm down!” he replied. “It’s not what you think. Trust me.”
“How much more are you hiding from me, Myron? We are getting married in a few days!” Hilary yelled.
“Listen to me,” he held her shoulders and made her sit on the bed. “This marriage was a mistake. I was young and impulsive when I married this woman. It’s in the past now and means nothing to me!”
“Why should I believe you?” Hilary rolled her eyes and looked away.
“I swear this marriage means nothing to me,” Myron said. “All I want to do is forget about it, and that’s the only reason I never told you about it. Trust me, honey.”
“I’m marrying you in a few days, and I have no idea who you are!” Hilary started crying. “I’m starting to doubt my decision now.”
“Come on,” Myron hugged her. “You know how much I love you. Why would I ever lie to you, my love? Stop crying, please.”
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Once again, Myron cleared Hilary’s doubts through his magical words. He convinced her he wasn’t keeping any secrets, but the truth was otherwise.
“I am against this marriage!” an unknown man shouted while walking down the aisle.
A day before the wedding, Myron was talking to someone on the phone at Hilary’s place.
“If you mess it up, I won’t be able to vouch for myself!” he whispered, unaware that Hilary overheard him.
Once he hung up, she asked him who he was talking to. “What you said sounded so suspicious!” she said. “What’s going on, Myron?”
“That was my ex-girlfriend,” Myron rolled her eyes. “She was threatening to show up at the wedding.”
“Really?” Hilary asked.
“Yes,” Myron said confidently. “She has lost her mind or something.”
Yet again, Myron had managed to deceive her, though Hilary’s heart grew restless with each pang of doubt and suspicion. Little did he know she would learn about his true intentions sooner than he expected.
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Hilary woke up early on her wedding day and started getting ready. She was excited to marry the man of her dreams but had no idea what awaited her inside the church. She couldn’t wait to see what her groom looked like.
Once she was ready, she went to the church with her family and was delighted to see how well everyone had dressed up for her big day. All her friends and family were waiting for her to walk down the aisle and stand beside Myron.
She walked down the aisle holding her father’s hand while everyone looked at her. Once she reached the altar, the priest began reading the wedding vows. Then, he asked the guests if anyone was against the marriage.
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“I am against this marriage!” an unknown man shouted while walking down the aisle. “I can’t allow Myron to marry this innocent girl.”
Suddenly, the guests started whispering amongst themselves while Hilary gasped in shock. She looked at Myron, who was staring at the man angrily.
“I warned you, Myron, didn’t I?” the man grumbled. “You refused to listen to me, so now you must bear the consequences.”
Suddenly, a team of police officers barged into the church while Myron tried to escape. However, he couldn’t get away because the police had surrounded the church from all sides. They arrested and dragged him outside while Hilary kept asking Myron what was happening.
“Where are they taking him?” she cried. “What have you done, Myron? Why don’t you stop them?”
Hilary collapsed on the ground and cried hysterically.
Why did he do this to me? Why did he play with my feelings? Hilary thought she would faint from the pain of what was unfolding.
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Then, the man who had canceled her wedding walked toward her. “I’m so sorry for what you are feeling right now,” he said. “The police arrested Myron because he was accused of repeated fraud.”
“What?” Hilary gasped. “But how do you know that?”
“I’m Myron’s estranged father,” the man said. “You can call me Mr. Brown.”
“But he said his parents had passed away,” Hilary was shocked.
“I know he keeps lying to girls,” Mr. Brown said. “He cut ties with me when I discovered he was a professional gigolo and was looting girls by marrying them for money.”
“What?” Hilary couldn’t believe her ears.
“I tried my best to stop him, but he never listened,” Mr. Brown said. “I had given up on him until the police knocked on my door one day asking me if my son lives here.”
“Myron had given my address everywhere because he knew the police would come after him,” Mr. Brown continued. “I got so sick of this but knew he wouldn’t stop. His mother cheated on me the same way.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
It turned out that Mr. Brown had contacted Myron to warn him when he learned about Hilary. The father wanted his son not to play with Hilary’s feelings, but Myron refused to listen.
“It was you who called him yesterday?” Hilary asked. “He lied to me that it was his ex-girlfriend.”
“It was me,” Mr. Brown said.
“I called him, but he didn’t listen to me. So I had to call the police.”
Whatever Myron did in the past few months started making sense to Hilary. She finally understood why he had been acting so strangely.
“Thank you for saving me, Mr. Brown!” she said. “I owe you for saving me from getting robbed.”
Soon, Myron’s case was taken to court, and the judge ordered him to compensate every woman he had conned. A few months later, Hilary received her share of the settlement but decided not to keep it.
“This is for you, Mr. Brown,” she said while handing him the money. “Thank you for saving me!”
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What can we learn from this story?
- You can’t get away with deceiving people. Myron thought he would keep marrying women for money, unaware he would soon get caught. He wouldn’t have conned multiple women if he knew his father would send him to jail one day.
- Sometimes, you have to take a difficult step for your loved ones. It wasn’t easy for Mr. Brown to send his son to jail, but he did it because he wanted to teach Myron a lesson.
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On Her 18th Birthday, Girl’s Parents Kicked Her Out Without a Word, 10 Years Later She Gets a Bill from Them — Story of the Day
Claire had spent a decade proving she didn’t need them. She built her life from the ground up, earned her success. But just as she secured the job of her dreams, a letter arrived—a ghost from the past, wrapped in hospital bills. Her parents had abandoned her at eighteen. Now, they wanted something.
The corridor smelled like polished wood and expensive perfume, a scent that carried the weight of power and money.
Claire inhaled deeply, willing her nerves to settle. The smooth marble floor beneath her heels felt cold, solid—nothing like the twisting feeling in her stomach.
She shifted her weight, adjusting the crisp navy blazer she had bought specifically for today. Professional but not stiff. Confident but not arrogant.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her mind, but now that she was here, the air felt thick, pressing in on her lungs.
A voice sliced through the silence.
“They’re waiting for you.”
Claire turned her head. A woman, mid-fifties, sleek blonde bob, the kind of person who’d been in this building longer than the wallpaper.
Her lips were pursed, her expression unreadable but edged with something close to skepticism.
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Claire recognized it instantly. You’re too young.
She gave a curt nod, straightening her back. Not today, lady.
With measured steps, she walked through the towering glass doors into the conference room.
The place oozed money. A heavy mahogany desk dominated the center, sleek leather chairs arranged around it.
The light from the city skyline filtered through massive windows, painting the polished wood in gold and gray.
Three figures sat at the table, waiting.
The man in the middle, silver-haired, sharp-eyed, held up a crisp, printed copy of her résumé.
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“Impressive,” he said, his voice smooth, controlled. But then he leaned back slightly, tapping the paper. “But let’s address the elephant in the room.”
Here it comes.
“You’re twenty-eight.” He let the words hang, as if waiting for the weight of them to sink in. “We envisioned this position for someone… more experienced.”
Claire didn’t blink. She had expected this. Rehearsed for it.
She folded her hands neatly on the table, her voice even. “With all due respect, experience isn’t just about time—it’s about mileage.”
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The second man, younger but just as skeptical, lifted a brow.
Claire continued, her voice steady.
“Some people took their time. They studied, partied, eased into their careers, knowing they had a safety net. I didn’t have that luxury. I started working at eighteen. I put myself through school, built my career with my own hands. I didn’t wait for life to start. I made it happen.”
She met their gazes one by one, letting her words settle, feeling the pulse of the room shift.
A silence stretched between them. Not the awkward kind—the kind where gears turn.
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The woman at the table—sleek bun, smart suit—was the first to smile. Subtle but unmistakable.
Finally, the man in gray stood, smoothing down his jacket. He extended a hand.
“Welcome aboard, Claire.”
She gripped his palm firmly, her pulse steady now.
She had earned this.
Claire pushed open the door to her apartment, laughter bubbling from her lips as she kicked it shut behind her. The day had been long, exhausting, but damn, it had been good. She flung her bag onto the couch and ran a hand through her hair, letting out a deep sigh.
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Lisa was already sprawled on the couch, legs tucked under her, a glass of wine in hand. She grinned, lifting her glass in the air like a toast.
“I told you, Claire! That job was yours.”
Claire let out a small chuckle, bending down to unstrap her heels.
“I wouldn’t say it was easy. They practically counted my wrinkles to see if I qualified.”
She tossed the shoes aside, wiggling her toes against the cool wooden floor.
Lisa snorted, shaking her head.
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“Their loss if they’d passed on you. But they didn’t, because you’re a damn powerhouse. And now? This salary? You’re officially untouchable.”
Claire leaned against the kitchen counter, grabbing a bottle of water. She twisted the cap off, staring at it for a moment before taking a slow sip.
“Yeah…” she said, voice quieter now. “I just had to grow up fast.”
Lisa tilted her head, watching her. “You don’t regret it, do you?”
Claire forced a smile, shaking her head. “No. Not really.”
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Her fingers absently sifted through the pile of mail she had grabbed on her way in. Bills, junk, some real estate flyer. Then—she froze.
A stiff, cream-colored envelope sat among the others, the return address typed in bold black letters.
Her breath hitched.
Lisa frowned, noticing the sudden shift in her expression. “Claire?”
Claire didn’t respond. Her fingers trembled as she turned the envelope over, her eyes locked onto the familiar address.
She hadn’t seen it in a decade.
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Lisa sat up straighter, concern creeping into her voice. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Claire swallowed, forcing out the words. “I never thought I’d see this address again.”
Lisa leaned forward. “Whose is it?”
Claire’s throat felt tight. “My parents’.”
Silence settled between them, thick and unmoving. Lisa’s eyes widened, confusion flashing across her face.
“I haven’t seen them since my eighteenth birthday,” Claire said finally, her voice hollow, distant.
“They woke me up that morning, told me to come downstairs. My bags were packed. Just sitting there. They said I was an adult now. That I had to figure life out on my own.”
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Lisa’s jaw slackened. “Claire… that’s—”
“Messed up?” Claire let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. It was.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, taking a sharp breath, Claire ripped the envelope open.
A single sheet of paper.
Her stomach twisted. Hospital bills.
Tens of thousands.
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Her father’s name at the top.
Her pulse roared in her ears. Her hands gripped the letter so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Lisa hesitated before speaking. “What… what does it say?”
Claire’s jaw clenched.
“I swore I’d never go back,” she whispered.
But now?
Now, she had to know why.
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The house looked the same. The same peeling white paint, the same crooked mailbox that had leaned slightly to the left since she was a kid.
Even the porch swing, weathered and creaking in the breeze, was still there, swaying as if nothing had changed. But everything had.
Claire stepped out of her car, barely shutting the door before the front door flew open.
“Claire!”
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Her mother’s voice rang through the yard, cracked with emotion. She rushed toward her, arms wide, eyes already glistening with tears.
Claire didn’t move. Her mother’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, but she remained stiff, her body rejecting the embrace.
Funny how you want me now.
Her mother pulled back just enough to cup Claire’s face, her fingers trembling. “Sweetheart, you came,” she breathed, her voice thick with relief.
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Claire stepped out of her grip, ignoring the warmth in her mother’s eyes. “Where’s Dad?”
A flicker of something crossed her mother’s face—hesitation, unease. Then she forced a small, broken smile. “He’s in the hospital. It’s been… hard.”
Claire scoffed. “Hard?” Her voice sharpened, each syllable slicing through the humid afternoon air.
“You mean like being kicked out at eighteen with nothing but a duffel bag?”
Her mother flinched. She looked down, rubbing her hands together as if she could smooth out the past with the motion. “We knew you’d make it. We wanted you to be strong.”
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Claire let out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich. You abandoned me. How do you even know all this!?” The word tasted like metal in her mouth.
Her mother’s lip trembled. “We watched from a distance,” she whispered. “We got an email from your company—we saw your name, your success. We were so proud.”
Claire’s jaw tightened. A slow burn of rage curled in her chest.
“You don’t get to claim pride,” she said, her voice dangerously low. “Why you didn’t call me earlier?”
Her mother reached for her again, but Claire stepped back, her arms folding tightly across her chest.
Her mother dabbed at her eyes, looking smaller now, fragile. “Your father… he wouldn’t let me call you.”
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Claire inhaled sharply, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She wouldn’t let herself feel sorry for this woman. Not now.
“Where is he?”
Her mother hesitated again. Too long.
“They won’t let visitors in,” she said finally. “It’s… a strict facility.”
Claire’s stomach twisted. Something about this didn’t sit right.
“But if you want to help,” her mother continued, “you can pay through the bank.”
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There it was.
Claire swallowed hard, studying the woman in front of her. The tears, the shaky voice—it was a well-practiced performance.
And maybe it was true. Maybe her father really was sick.
But she had learned not to trust words.
She’d come this far.
She’d at least make sure the bills were real.
The bank smelled like paper, stale coffee, and something metallic—maybe the scent of money itself..
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Claire stepped up to the counter, sliding the paperwork toward the teller, her fingers tapping against the smooth surface.
The woman behind the counter had soft, kind eyes, the type that made people think she was a good listener.
She took the papers, her brow furrowing slightly as she scanned them.
Then, she frowned—a small, almost imperceptible crease forming between her eyebrows.
Claire’s stomach tightened.
The teller glanced up. “This isn’t a hospital account,” she murmured.
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Claire’s breath hitched. “Excuse me?”
The teller hesitated, then turned the screen toward her, tilting it just enough for Claire to see.
“This account isn’t registered to a hospital or medical provider. It’s private. The funds would go to an individual.”
Claire’s blood ran cold.
She blinked at the screen, her mind trying to process what she was hearing.
“That’s… that’s not possible,” she said slowly, but even as she spoke, something deep inside her knew the truth.
The teller shook her head. “No mistake.”
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Claire felt her pulse in her throat, hot and pounding. The air around her suddenly felt too thick, pressing in.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Of course. Of course, they would do this.
Without another word, she yanked the paperwork back, spun on her heel, and stormed out of the bank.
By the time she reached her car, her hands were shaking. She jammed the key into the ignition.
The tires screeched against the pavement as she pulled out.
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If they thought they could play her, they had no idea who she’d become.
Claire didn’t knock. She didn’t hesitate.
She shoved the door open, the old hinges groaning as if the house itself protested her return.
The scent of warm cake and cheap vanilla candles filled the air—so ordinary, so out of place.
Her mother gasped, her fork frozen mid-air, a bite of frosting-laced cake trembling at the tip.
Across the table, her father, alive and well, let out a hearty chuckle—until his eyes met hers. His hand, mid-motion, hovered over a half-eaten slice of cake.
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Silence wrapped around the room, thick and suffocating.
Claire’s hands clenched at her sides, shaking with rage. “You lied.”
Her father cleared his throat, setting his fork down as if this were any other dinner conversation. “Now, sweetheart—”
“Don’t.” Claire’s voice was sharp, cutting through the room like a knife. Her chest rose and fell, her breath coming faster, hotter.
“I almost wired you thousands. Thought you were dying.” She let out a laugh, bitter and hollow.
“Turns out you’re just broke.”
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Her mother sighed, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin, as if Claire’s fury was nothing more than an inconvenience.
“You owe us.”
Claire blinked. A cold, empty feeling settled in her chest. “Owe you?”
Her father leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, completely unbothered.
“If we hadn’t kicked you out, you wouldn’t be who you are. Your success? That’s because of us.”
Claire’s fingers curled into fists. She looked at them—two strangers who had thrown her away, only to demand a reward when she thrived without them.
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“No,” she whispered, her voice steady. “I made me.”
Her mother’s expression darkened, her voice dropping into something sharper. “You can’t just walk away.”
Claire’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.
“Watch me.”
She turned, walked out, and let the door slam behind her.
And this time, she wasn’t coming back.
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