As their usual Sunday routine — Kristen and Gary spend their morning doing chores at home before heading to the grocery store to plan for the week. But when Gary gets a phone call from his friends, he bolts — leaving Kristen to fork up the $650 bill and find her own way home. Who is more important to Gary, and what can Kristen do to teach him a lesson?
For as long as I’ve been married to Gary, we have had a set Sunday routine. We wake up, have brunch and then hit the grocery store. It’s been this way for the past two years — it’s how the system runs smoothly.
Two plates of food on a table | Source: Unsplash
So, it’s a Sunday morning. I make us brunch while Gary sorts out the outside — mowing the lawn and so on.
“Are you ready?” Gary asked, as he came into the kitchen fresh from a shower.
“Yes,” I said. “Don’t forget to take the shopping bags.”
A lawn mower outside | Source: Unsplash
We get to the store, and my husband and I have a ball of a time. We walk the grocery store per aisle, making sure that we got everything we needed — and then some. We were both foodies, so cooking together was our love language.
Until Gary’s phone rang, and I saw a different side to my husband.
A shopping cart in a grocery store | Source: Unsplash
We were just about to start unloading our cart at the checkout when Gary’s phone erupted with a loud ring.
“Sorry, Kristen, but I’ve got to take this,” he muttered, stepping aside to answer. “You can start checking out, though.”
So I began to unload all of our groceries — the meat, the veggies, the fruit, not to mention the junk food and drinks that we had stocked up on, too.
Moments later, Gary returned, looking both agitated and excited.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
“Listen, I have to run,” he said, glancing at the groceries as the checkout guy went about scanning them.
“Where do you have to go?” I asked.
“The guys are waiting for me. We’re going to have some beers, barbecue, and watch the game together,” he said.
Gary put his hands in his pocket, and looked toward the exit.
A person holding beer with firewood in the background | Source: Pexels
I thought that he was waiting for us to finish at the grocery store, then drop me off at home before taking off to his friends.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
“What? Now?” I asked, puzzled. “But we’re about to check out!”
“I know, I know,” he said hurriedly, swinging the car keys. “But I can’t miss this, Kristen! It’s a big deal, you know that the guys and I barely hang out.”
A man holding car keys | Source: Unsplash
“How am I supposed to get all of this sorted out and get home? You’re getting a cab?” I protested, my eyes darting between Gary and the growing line behind us.
“What? No! I’m taking the car. But I’ll call you a cab!”
He hastily began to place items on the conveyor belt.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ve got to dash!”
And with that, he was gone.
A man walking away | Source: Pexels
“Do you need help with these?” the checkout guy asked. “We have people to help with these things.”
I nodded. I couldn’t believe that Gary had actually left me at a grocery store, just to go and drink with his friends.
“That will be $650, ma’am.”
A cashier at check out | Source: Unsplash
Of course, Gary had left without leaving any cash behind. It wasn’t that I relied on him for money — it’s just that we usually did this type of thing together. And $650 wasn’t what I had expected our grocery trip to come to.
I paid and wheeled the heavy cart outside. I stood looking at the parking lot, hoping that by some miracle, Gary would still be there.
That he would be waiting for me.
An upset woman looking down | Source: Unsplash
That he would have finally realized that he was wrong to leave me for an insignificant moment with his friends.
I deserved better.
After a few minutes, a cab drove by. The driver got out and helped me pack all of our groceries into the trunk, and we took off for my home.
A yellow cab | Source: Unsplash
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got with Gary.
What on earth could have possessed him to leave me alone? I felt hurt and disrespected. I hated everything about the way I felt. My husband had never made me feel this way before.
I got home and unloaded all of the groceries. I was in a foul mood by then. So, I made a cup of tea and took it to my bubble bath. I needed to relax before thinking about how to get back at Gary.
A cat among grocery bags | Source: Unsplash
As I was sitting in my bath, sniffing the calming scent of lavender, I decided that I would cook myself a fancy dinner with all the ingredients I had bought.
“Two can play at this game,” I thought, shuffling around the house in my socks and pajamas.
I put on some music and I began to cook — I prepared an elaborate feast, grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, couscous, and the works. All of our favorites.
A bubble bath with tea and a book | Source: Pexels
The kitchen smelled heavenly, and I was in the zone. While waiting for the oven, I set the table meticulously for one — my resolve hardening.
If there was one thing I knew about my husband — he would always check my social media, especially when he was away from me.
So, I took photos while I cooked, and posted them on my socials.
A woman cooking | Source: Pexels
My stories were always perfectly captured, and I usually shared my cooking online. Shortly after I posted every story, Gary would ‘like’ it — and every time he did that, I knew that my plan was working.
Sure enough, my husband would be with his friends — drinking and snacking and watching whatever game they said they were going to. But Gary wouldn’t eat there, not when he knew that I was cooking at home.
For good measure, I sent him a photo of my plate saying:
Dinner is fantastic tonight, wish you were here! xx
A person taking a photo of food | Source: Pexels
Later that night, Gary returned to a clean kitchen without leftovers. I was lounging comfortably with a glass of wine and a book — the evidence of my solo feast neatly packed away at the back of the fridge.
“Hey,” he began uncertainly, after he walked in and out of the pristine kitchen. “The house smells incredible. Did you save me some dinner?”
A glass of wine on a table | Source: Pexels
I shook my head, a slight smile playing on my lips.
“Actually, no,” I said. “But you missed a great meal. Everything was so fresh!”
Gary’s face fell as he glanced around to the dining table, as if hoping that there would be a plate of dinner for him.
“I didn’t have dinner,” he admitted.
“Oh? Why not?” I asked, crossing my legs.
A man sitting and covering his eyes | Source: Unsplash
“Because I saw your stories and I thought that there would be dinner for me, too,” he said.
I remained silent. My husband knew exactly what he had done wrong. I just needed him to admit it.
“Kristen,” he said. “I’m sorry I left you at the store like that. It was a last-minute thing with the guys and I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to be with them, I guess. And I knew that you could handle it.”
Gary walked to the fridge and returned with a beer. He opened his mouth to start talking again.
I raised a hand, stopping him mid-excuse.
A cold beer bottle | Source: Unsplash
“Gary, when you choose your friends over me, it’s more than just leaving me to handle the bills or whatever. It’s way more than that. You left me behind so that you could drink beer. You made me feel second to a barbecue. Today, I wanted you to experience coming home expecting a warm meal and finding nothing.”
“You did this on purpose?” he asked, shocked.
“It’s not just about food,” I continued. “It’s about the people you prioritize.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels
“I never looked at it that way,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”
Our conversation that night was long and honest — Gary needed to be reminded of the fact that we were a team and that we did everything together regarding our home. But it turns out that I also needed to be reminded that we could have our lives, too.
“Get out sometimes,” he said. “Go out with your friends, and leave me to take over the house. You’re allowed to escape the routine, too.”
A group of friends having a picnic together | Source: Pexels
When we went to bed that evening, I felt bad. I had never denied my husband food before, but there was a lesson to be learnt here.
Gary needed to know that he couldn’t leave me stranded in a grocery store without a car. Or without offering to help. Beer and barbecue did not qualify as an emergency.
“You’re right,” he said as he brushed his teeth. “I need to get my priorities straight.”
I’m not sure if Gary learned his lesson, but I do think that making him buttered toast and tea for dinner was a step in the right direction.
Buttered toast with jam | Source: Unsplash
My Mother-in-Law’s Online Persona Helped Fund a Surprise Gift We Never Expected
I was furious when I discovered my mother-in-law’s secret parenting blog featuring my son, Liam. But on his first birthday, Claire showed up with a gift we never expected and a shocking explanation that changed everything.
I’ve always thought of myself as someone who sees the best in people. Maybe a little too much. I’m Brooke, 27, married to Jake, 29, and mom to our little boy, Liam. Our life isn’t perfect, but it’s ours.
A thoughtful and happy woman standing on the front porch | Source: Midjourney
We live in a cozy home on the outskirts of town, where Jake works long hours as a project manager, and I’m figuring out how to be a mom without losing my mind.
When I first met Jake’s mom, Claire, I thought I’d hit the jackpot in the in-law department. She was in her 50s and looked elegant, the kind of woman who could pull off yoga pants and a messy bun as if she’d just stepped out of a lifestyle magazine. There wasn’t a hint of judgment in her eyes when Jake introduced me.
A smiling senior woman | Source: Midjourney
She hugged me like she’d known me forever, saying, “I’ve heard so much about you, Brooke! Finally, I get to meet the woman who’s stolen my son’s heart.”
It felt good. Like I belonged.
Claire was easy to talk to. She had a laid-back vibe that made our early dinners smooth and fun. We’d swap recipes, laugh about Jake’s childhood quirks, and discuss travel plans. But looking back, maybe I should have paid more attention to how she casually dominated conversations — always steering them back to herself.
A thoughtful woman sitting alone in her room | Source: Midjourney
Things changed when Jake and I announced we were having a baby.
The baby shower was the first sign.
I was sitting on our living room couch, trying to soak in the moment. The decorations were simple but heartfelt. There were soft blues and yellows, little stuffed animals, and a homemade cake from my best friend.
A homemade cake topped with fruits | Source: Pexels
Then Claire arrived.
She stepped in like she owned the place, wearing a tailored white dress with impeccably styled hair and heels that clacked against our hardwood floor like a metronome. Following her was a man with a camera slung around his neck.
“Mom?” Jake blinked in surprise. “What’s with the photographer?”
Claire beamed. “Oh, darling, he’s here to capture the day! It’s a special moment — my grandbaby’s celebration!” She leaned down, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “Brooke, sweetheart, don’t you worry. I’ve got this all planned.”
I plastered on a smile. “That’s… thoughtful. Thank you.”
A woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
The thing is, it wasn’t thoughtful. Not really. Every shot was curated to showcase her. Claire posing by the cake. Claire arranging gifts. Claire with her hand on my belly like she was the one carrying Liam. I half-expected her to start giving out autographs.
When the photos surfaced on her social media, the captions made me wince: “A special day for my growing family.” No mention of me or Jake. Just her and Liam.
Things spiraled after Liam was born.
A yawning newborn baby | Source: Pexels
Claire started visiting twice a week, always with a wide smile and that signature air of confidence. At first, I appreciated her help. She’d offer to take Liam for a few hours so I could nap or catch up on laundry. It felt like a blessing.
“Brooke, darling,” she’d say as she packed the diaper bag, “you need to rest. You’re doing so much.”
But then she started saying things that made my skin crawl.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, as she was buckling Liam into his car seat, she smiled at me over her shoulder. “Jake asked me to help out more. He’s worried you’re overwhelmed.”
I blinked. “He… what?”
“He called me last night,” she continued, her voice calm, almost rehearsed. “He said you’ve been struggling. He thought it’d be best if I took Liam for a few hours each week.”
That night, I confronted Jake.
“Did you ask your mom to babysit?” I blurted out as we folded laundry.
A close-up shot of a woman holding a stack of neatly folded shirts | Source: Pexels
Jake’s brow furrowed. “No. Why would I? I mean, I appreciate the help, but I thought that was your idea.”
“She said you asked her to,” I pressed. “That you’re worried about me.”
Jake shook his head. “Honey, I never asked Mom to babysit. Not once.”
My gut twisted. Something felt off.
The truth hit me one night during a 2 a.m. feeding.
Liam was nestled in my arms, his tiny fingers gripping my shirt as I scrolled through my phone. My eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but a familiar face on the screen jolted me awake.
A woman holding her baby boy | Source: Midjourney
Claire.
Except, it wasn’t just a picture of Claire. It was a parenting blog — under a name I didn’t recognize, but there she was. Hair perfectly styled, smiling broadly, holding Liam in her living room.
I clicked the first post, my heart pounding.
“Motherhood is a journey, and I’m here to share it with all of you wonderful moms out there!”
What followed was post after post featuring Liam. Photos of him napping, playing with toys, even a video of his first bath. The captions were detailed, offering tips on feeding schedules and bedtime routines.
A baby sitting on the carpet and playing with blocks | Source: Pexels
“Are you kidding me?” I whispered, scrolling faster. It wasn’t just one post. It was a whole series — hundreds of photos and videos. She’d documented our life without saying a word to me.
Then I read the worst part.
“After childbirth, it’s important to focus on self-care. Here’s what worked for me: Tips on getting your baby to sleep through the night.”
She wasn’t claiming to be Liam’s grandma. Everything she posted implied she was his mother.
The next morning, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
I dialed Claire’s number, my hands trembling with anger.
A woman using her phone in her room at night | Source: Midjourney
“Good morning, Brooke!” she chirped. “How’s my favorite little guy?”
I gripped the phone tighter. “How dare you?”
A pause. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve been running a blog — with photos and videos of my son. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
Silence.
“Claire,” I seethed, “you crossed a line. We trusted you. I trusted you. And you’ve been parading Liam around online like he’s your son.”
“Brooke, it’s not like that,” she began, her voice softening.
A senior woman tries to explain herself while talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t gaslight me. We’re done, Claire. You’ve severed every tie.”
****
Liam’s first birthday was a quiet affair at home. It was nothing fancy, just close family, a homemade cake, and a few balloons. Jake and I had agreed to keep it simple; our savings were tight, and we weren’t about to splurge on an elaborate party for a baby who’d be more interested in the wrapping paper than the gifts.
A little boy wearing a party hat and sitting on a white high chair on his birthday | Source: Pexels
Still, I couldn’t shake the nerves as we set up. Claire hadn’t come by since our phone conversation. We’d exchanged some tense texts but nothing that hinted at reconciliation. She was now coming to Liam’s party, and I had no idea what to expect.
Jake noticed my fidgeting as I rearranged the balloons for the third time.
A close-up shot of balloons | Source: Pexels
“Babe, relax,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Mom’s not coming to start trouble. It’s Liam’s day.”
I nodded, trying to believe him. But my chest tightened as I heard the knock at the door.
Claire stood there holding a small, carefully wrapped gift box.
A close-up shot of a person holding a gift box with a brown ribbon | Source: Pexels
She looked different. Softer, somehow. Gone was the glamorous version of her I’d seen online. Today, she was in a simple cardigan and jeans, her hair styled in a loose bun.
“Hi,” she said quietly.
“Hi,” I replied, glancing at Jake, who gave me a reassuring nod.
Claire’s eyes darted nervously between me and Jake. “I wasn’t sure if I should come.”
“You’re Liam’s grandma,” Jake said gently. “Of course, you should be here.”
A man smiles softly while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
I stepped aside to let her in. She walked in slowly, her gaze immediately finding Liam, who was toddling around the living room in his birthday outfit: a tiny shirt with “One-derful” printed on it.
“Oh, look at you!” Claire’s face lit up. She knelt down, arms outstretched. “Come to Grandma!”
Liam hesitated for a moment before wobbling toward her. Claire scooped him up, her eyes misting as she kissed his cheek.
I watched the scene, and my emotions tangled. Anger, guilt, confusion, and love. It was all there, swirling around in my chest.
A woman caught in a moment of emotional struggle | Source: Midjourney
“Let’s do presents,” Jake suggested, sensing the tension. “Liam’s been eyeing that pile all morning.”
We gathered around the small stack of gifts, and Jake handed Liam the first one to tear open. Claire sat quietly, holding her little box on her lap, her fingers fidgeting with the ribbon.
Finally, Jake nodded toward her. “Mom, is that for Liam?”
Claire blinked, startled. “Oh! Yes. Yes, it is.” She stood and handed the box to me. “But… it’s more for all of you.”
I frowned, puzzled, as I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.
A close-up shot of a woman opening a gift | Source: Pexels
Inside was a set of keys.
I stared at them, confused. “What?”
“It’s your family house,” Claire said softly, her voice trembling. “For you, Jake, and Liam.”
Jake and I exchanged stunned looks.
“What do you mean, our house?” Jake asked, his brow furrowed.
A man looking a bit surprised | Source: Midjourney
Claire took a deep breath, her hands twisting nervously. “I know how hard you’ve been working, Jake. And Brooke, I’ve seen how much you’ve given up to be the best mom you can be. I also know how hard it is to buy a house at your age. I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how to do it without making you feel like I was interfering.”
I could feel my heart pounding as she spoke.
A woman looks with understanding and warmth at someone | Source: Midjourney
“So, I started the blog,” she continued. “At first, it was just for fun. But then people started following, commenting, asking questions… and I realized I could use it for something bigger. I started a crowdfunding campaign — anonymously — to raise money for a house.”
My mouth dropped open. “Wait. You’re saying… you bought us a house?”
Claire nodded, tears spilling over. “It was supposed to be a surprise down payment, but the blog took off faster than I ever imagined. I managed to save enough to buy it outright.”
A sad and emotional senior woman | Source: Midjourney
Jake ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room. “Mom, this is… I don’t even know what to say.”
I couldn’t speak. I was still processing everything — the lies, the secrecy, the overwhelming generosity.
Claire turned to me, her eyes pleading. “Brooke, I’m so sorry for how things went. I never meant to hurt you. I just, I didn’t know how else to help. I saw how stressed you both were, and I wanted to give Liam the future he deserves.”
A little boy climbing a wooden ladder | Source: Pexels
Her voice broke, and I felt my tears welling up. “You lied to us,” I whispered. “You took photos of Liam without asking. You made it look like you were his mom.”
“I know,” Claire said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m sorry. I let it get out of hand. I should have told you from the start.”
Jake stepped in, his voice calm but firm. “Mom, why didn’t you just ask us if we needed help?”
A man with understanding and warmth in his eyes | Source: Midjourney
“Because I was afraid you’d say no,” Claire admitted. “You’re both so independent, so determined to do everything on your own. I thought if I offered money, you’d refuse. So, I did it my way. And I’m not saying it was the right way, but it was the only way I could think of.”
The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air.
Finally, I spoke. “Where’s the house?”
Claire’s face brightened. “It’s just a few streets over. Close enough that I can babysit — if you want me to.”
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
A man laughing | Source: Midjourney
I looked at him, my heart swelling with emotion. “We have a house, Jake. Our own house.”
He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “Yeah, we do.”
Claire wiped her eyes. “I know I’ve made mistakes. And I know I have a lot to make up for. But I hope… I hope you can forgive me.”
I stood, crossing the room to where she sat. My mind flashed back to all the moments of tension, the hurtful words, the mistrust. And yet, here she was, offering us the very thing we’d dreamed of: a home.
A back view of a loving couple standing in front of a house | Source: Pexels
Without a word, I pulled her into a hug.
Claire stiffened for a moment before melting into the embrace, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whispered. “Together.”
She pulled back, her eyes shimmering. “Thank you, Brooke.”
Jake joined us, wrapping his arms around both of us. Liam giggled from his spot on the floor, completely unaware of the emotional storm around him.
A little boy celebrating his first birthday | Source: Pexels
At that moment, I realized something important: Claire and I might never see the world the same way, but we loved Liam more than anything. And that love was enough to bridge the gap.
“Happy birthday, little man,” Jake whispered, scooping Liam into his arms. “Here’s to your new home.”
And as we stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I knew this was just the beginning.
The beginning of our family’s next chapter.
A woman beaming with joy | Source: Midjourney
If this story warmed your heart, take a look at another intriguing read: I’d always dreamed of a perfect Christmas, and this year was supposed to be special since I was finally going to be a part of Liam’s family. I was excited to start a new chapter of our lives, unaware that this Christmas would be the beginning of the end.
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.
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