I still can’t calm down. A week ago, I had to kick my daughter out of my apartment. Honestly, I don’t regret my actions. She brought it upon herself, along with her boyfriend. I came home from work to find uninvited guests. I always enjoyed my daughter’s visits, but six months ago, something happened that changed everything
For over 12 years, Sarah has visited her grandmother daily, helping her with household chores. When Sarah was a child, it was Grandma Betty who raised her, instilling in her a love for theater, teaching her to cook delicious chicken cutlets, and supporting her through the toughest times of her life. However, when Sarah decided to ask her grandmother to transfer the house to her name, things took an unexpected turn.
I met my first wife in college. We rented an apartment together and faced life’s toughest challenges side by side. After graduation, we got married and worked hard to achieve success. It was a difficult time; I worked tirelessly and saved money to start my own business, and my beloved wife was always there, supporting me in every way she could. She worked just as hard as I did
We considered many options, but being accustomed to the hustle and bustle of city life, we chose Miami. Initially, everything was perfect! We bought a condo in a new building and set up our furniture.
I spent the majority of my life working abroad. I earned a decent living, though I missed my children and family dearly. I always reminded myself that I was doing this solely for them, to ensure they had a good life. No one else would take care of it but me. In recent years, it became increasingly difficult to work – I was no longer young, and the labor was grueling
After living in a cramped dorm room, the two-bedroom apartment in a new five-story building felt like a palace! The apartment still smelled of fresh paint and everything sparkled with cleanliness, but the children from the neighboring old buildings
It seemed like I had my life together, but I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Let me start from the beginning. For many years, I lived with my daughter, Emily.
At 62, I live alone in my modest home in a quiet suburb. I have no children or spouse, though I was once married. At 28, I married a colleague from work. Our marriage was shattered by his infidelity. Just six months after our wedding, he brought his mistress into our home. Naturally, I couldn’t tolerate it and decided to leave
Sitting in a cozy café, discussing our life challenges, we noticed a charming young man approaching our table. He sat down and wanted to get to know us. Honestly, from that moment on, everything changed.
Why? Because while my family and I were busy planning our dream wedding, Jake and his father were secretly selling the house we were supposed to live in. My name is Emily. I’m 27 years old and a recent college graduate.
Growing up, our mother always taught us the importance of sibling support. Whenever I did something solely for myself, I felt guilty. John got married right after high school and became a father during his sophomore year in college. He had to take a break from his studies because he couldn’t balance school and fatherhood. I don’t want to judge him because he made his own choices. I had my own vision for the future
How old is she anyway? She’s so young, why the rush? And why have kids right away? Did anyone listen to me? Not even Sarah.
