My Mom Told Me Not to Visit for 3 Months Due to ‘Renovations’ — When I Decided to Surprise Her, I Discovered the Gory Truth She Was Hiding

For three months, Mia’s mom insisted she stay away while her house was being renovated. But something didn’t sit right. When Mia arrives unannounced, she finds the door unlocked, the house eerily pristine, and a strange smell in the air. Mia is about to stumble upon a devastating secret.

The city was just waking up as I drove through its empty streets. Early morning light painted everything in soft hues, but I couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling in my gut. Something was wrong.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. Mom’s voice echoed in my head as my memory replayed all those hurried phone calls and weird excuses. “Oh, honey, I can’t have you over. The house is a mess with all these renovations.”

But three months without seeing her? That wasn’t like us. We used to be thick as thieves, her and me.

I worried about what had changed as I waited at an intersection. Mom had always been house-proud, constantly tweaking and updating our home. But this felt different.

An intersection | Source: Pexels

An intersection | Source: Pexels

Her voice on the phone lately… she always sounded so tired. Sad, even. And every time I’d try to press her on it, she’d brush me off. “Don’t worry about me, Mia. How’s that big project at work going? Have you gotten that promotion yet?”

I knew she was keeping something from me, and I’d let it slide for far too long.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

So here I was, way too early on a Saturday morning, driving across town because I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As I pulled up to Mom’s house, my heart sank. The garden, usually Mom’s pride and joy, was overgrown and neglected. Weeds poked through the flower beds, and the rosebushes looked like they hadn’t seen pruning shears in months.

“What the hell?” I muttered. I killed the engine and rushed to the gate.

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

I walked up to the front door, my footsteps echoing in the quiet morning. When I tried the handle, it turned easily. Unlocked. That wasn’t like Mom at all.

Fear prickled across my skin as I stepped inside. There was no dust, or building materials in sight. No sign of a drop cloth or any paint cans either. And what was that smell? Sharp and citrusy. The place was too clean, too sterile. Like a hospital.

“Mom?” I called out.

No answer.

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

My eyes swept the entryway, landing on a familiar photo on the side table. It was us at the beach when I was maybe seven or eight. I was grinning at the camera, gap-toothed and sunburned, while Mom hugged me from behind, laughing.

The glass was smudged with fingerprints, mostly over my face. That was weird. Mom was always wiping things down, keeping everything spotless. But this… it looked like someone had been touching the photo a lot, almost frantically.

A chill ran down my spine.

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

“Mom?” I called again, louder this time. “You here?”

That’s when I heard it. A faint creaking came from upstairs.

My heart raced as I climbed the stairs. The quiet felt heavy, pressing in on me from all sides. I tried to steady my breathing as I walked down the hallway toward Mom’s room.

“Mom?” My voice came out as a whisper now. “It’s me. It’s Mia.”

I pushed open her bedroom door, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

There she was, struggling to sit up in bed. But this… this couldn’t be my mother. The woman before me was frail and gaunt, her skin sallow against the white sheets. And her hair… oh God, her beautiful hair was gone, replaced by a scarf wrapped around her head.

“Mia?” Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing.

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Mom? What… what happened to you?”

She looked at me with those familiar brown eyes, now sunken in her pale face. “Oh, honey,” she sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

I stumbled to her bedside, dropping to my knees. “Find out what? Mom, please, tell me what’s going on.”

She reached out a thin hand, and I clasped it in both of mine. It felt so fragile, like a bird’s bones.

“I have cancer, Mia,” she said softly.

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

Time stopped and my world narrowed down to how dry her lips looked as she spoke and the hollow feeling in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

“… undergoing chemotherapy for the past few months,” she finished.

“Cancer? But… but why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep this from me?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to burden you, sweetheart. You’ve been working so hard for that promotion. I thought… I thought I could handle this on my own.”

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

Anger flared up inside me, hot and sudden. “Handle it on your own? Mom, I’m your daughter! I should have been here! I should have known!”

“Mia, please,” she pleaded. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to see me like this, so weak and…”

“Protect me?” I cut her off, my voice rising as tears blurred my vision. “By lying to me? By keeping me away when you needed me most? How could you do that?”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s face crumpled, and she started to cry, too. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

I climbed onto the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much, and pulled her into my arms.

“Oh, Mom,” I whispered. “You could never be a burden to me. Never.”

We sat there for a long time, just holding each other and crying. All the fear and pain of the past few months came pouring out.

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

When we finally calmed down, I helped Mom get more comfortable, propping her up with pillows. Then I went downstairs and made us both some tea, my mind reeling with everything I’d learned.

Back in her room, I perched on the edge of the bed, handing her a steaming mug. “So,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”

And she did. She told me about the diagnosis, the shock, and the fear. How she’d started treatment right away, hoping to beat it before I even knew something was wrong.

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

“But it spread so fast,” she said, her voice trembling. “By the time I realized how bad it was, I was already so sick.”

I took her hand again, squeezing gently. “Mom, don’t you get it? I love you. All of you. Even the sick parts, even the scared parts. Especially those parts. That’s what family is for.”

She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and regret. “I just… I’ve always been the strong one, you know? Your rock. I didn’t know how to be anything else.”

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

I smiled through my tears. “Well, now it’s my turn to be the rock. I’m not going anywhere, Mom. We’re in this together, okay?”

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”

I moved back in with Mom later that week. I also took time off work and called in every favor I could to get Mom the best care possible, even if all we could do was keep her as comfortable as possible.

We spent her final days together, sharing stories and memories, laughing and crying together. And when the end came, I was right there beside her.

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Mia,” she whispered. “I wanted… I never took you to Disneyland… I promised to take you camping in the mountains… so many promises I’ve broken…”

“It’s not important.” I moved closer to her on the bed. “What matters is that you were always there for me when I needed you. You always knew how to make me smile when I was sad, or make everything better when I messed something up.” I sniffed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Mom.”

Her eyes cracked open, and she smiled faintly at me.

Close up of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

“You’re going to be okay, Mia. You’re so strong… my amazing daughter. I love you so much.”

I put my arms around her and hugged her as tightly as I dared. I’m not sure exactly when she slipped away, but when I eventually pulled back, Mom was gone.

I stayed there for a long time, trying to hold onto the warmth of our last hug as sobs racked my body, replaying her last words in my mind. Trying to keep her with me, no matter how impossible that was.

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

Saying goodbye to Mom was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I wouldn’t trade those moments I spent with her for anything in the world.

Because in the end, that’s what love is. It’s showing up, even when it’s hard. It’s being there, even in the darkest moments. It’s holding on tight and never letting go.

Here’s another story: My name is Larissa, and I’m just a regular woman trying to keep up with the demands of life. Between work and everything else, I sometimes forget to slow down and focus on what really matters. But nothing could have prepared me for the day I returned to my childhood home, only to find it reduced to rubble and my mother missing.

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.

We Postponed Our Wedding Because of My Fiancé’s Business Trip, but I Accidentally Saw Him in Town That Same Day

When Jennifer’s fiancé, Chris, postpones their wedding for a last-minute business trip, she’s heartbroken. But on her birthday, the day they were meant to marry, Jennifer spots him in town. Suspecting betrayal, she confronts him, only to uncover a life-altering secret that Chris has spent years keeping quiet.

Six months ago, when Chris got down on one knee in the park where we had our first date, I thought nothing in my entire life could feel more perfect.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

We set the date for late fall, on my birthday, no less. It felt right, like everything in my life had been leading to that moment.

Chris and I were two halves of a whole, and as cheesy as that sounds, I mean it. He was the methodical planner, thriving on spreadsheets and five-year goals, while I was the impulsive dreamer, chasing creative projects and wandering wherever life led me.

Together, we found balance.

A stack of wedding invitations | Source: Midjourney

A stack of wedding invitations | Source: Midjourney

Or so I thought.

But then something happened that made me question everything.

A month before our wedding, Chris’s boss threw us a massive curveball. Chris had to attend a crucial business trip.

On the same day as our wedding!

An older man sitting at his desk | Source: Midjourney

An older man sitting at his desk | Source: Midjourney

“It’s just three days, love,” Chris said, holding my hands. “I know how disappointing it is, but at the same time… this is huge for my career, Jen. There’s a promotion on the line, and it could mean big things for us. We could move into our dream home sooner, we could extend our honeymoon for longer… I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

I was devastated. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

But what could I do? Reluctantly, I agreed to postpone the wedding for a few weeks. I tried to put on a brave face, telling myself that it was just a small delay along our journey.

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Fine,” I said. “And I’ll make all the calls to the vendors and send out messages to all our guests. You focus on work and the trip, and I’ll do the rest. Okay?”

“I knew you’d get it,” he smiled.

Then my birthday arrived, the day we should have been saying ‘I do.’ Instead of getting all dressed, spending time getting my hair and makeup done to perfection, I found myself wandering aimlessly through the city.

A woman walking down a street | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking down a street | Source: Midjourney

My bridesmaids had wanted to spend the day with me, knowing that Chris would be away, but I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to see anyone.

“Why are you acting like the wedding is canceled, Jen?” my friend Avery asked. “It’s not. It’s just been postponed.”

“I know that,” I said. “But… I can’t help the way I feel. It’s just… never mind.”

“You can talk to me, Jen,” she said softly.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, but I don’t even know what words to use. I’m feeling deflated, I guess. That’s all. I want to be alone. But I’ll come over tomorrow, I promise.”

I cut the call and left home in my boots. The crisp autumn air bit at my cheeks as I clutched my coffee, trying to ignore the gnawing ache in my chest.

The streets blurred as I walked, my thoughts spinning. I missed Chris. I missed him terribly. And I missed what the day should have been.

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney

Eventually, I ended up on the outskirts of town, where a fancy boutique hotel caught my eye. Deciding I needed a drink, something stronger than coffee, I stepped inside the warm lobby.

The soft hum of voices and clinking glasses greeted me as I made my way to the bar. The bartender had just started making my drink when something, or someone, caught my eye.

There he was.

Chris.

The exterior of a hotel | Source: Midjourney

The exterior of a hotel | Source: Midjourney

In a suit, standing at the reception desk, talking to the concierge.

My heart stopped.

I blinked, sure that I was imagining things. Chris was supposed to be 500 miles away on his business trip. So, what the hell was he doing here?

Before I could think, I slapped a note on the bar, paying for my untouched drink. I stormed toward the staircase where he had disappeared. My boots echoed against the polished wood as I raced upstairs, my pulse pounding in my ears.

A note on a bar counter | Source: Midjourney

A note on a bar counter | Source: Midjourney

“Chris!” I shouted. “What is happening? Why are you here? What are you doing here?!”

He turned, startled, his face turning pale before my eyes.

“Jen! Wait!”

“No!” I said, my voice giving my feelings away. “You lied to me, Chris! You’re supposed to be on a business trip. Are you… are you cheating on me? Is that what this is?”

A man wearing a suit | Source: Midjourney

A man wearing a suit | Source: Midjourney

His hands shot up in defense.

“No, Jen, I swear it’s not that. Just… please, come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

I followed him down the hall, my anger simmering under the surface. He stopped outside a door, pulling a keycard from his pocket.

“What’s in there? Who is in there?” I demanded.

A man holding a hotel keycard | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a hotel keycard | Source: Midjourney

“Just… trust me.”

The door swung open, revealing a simple hotel room. My stomach churned as I scanned the space, expecting to see some other woman. Instead, it was empty.

Chris gestured to the armchair by the window.

“Sit down,” he said softly.

“Explain, Chris,” I said, suddenly exhausted. “Now. Please.”

The interior of a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Jen, I’ve been working on something for a long time. For years, actually. It’s about your mother.”

I froze.

“My mother?” I echoed. “What?”

He nodded, his voice trembling slightly.

An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

“I know you don’t talk about her much, but I know how much it’s hurt you, love. Not knowing why she left you at the hospital… not knowing where she went or why.”

I swallowed hard, the familiar ache of abandonment rising in my chest.

“For three years, I’ve been trying to find her,” Chris continued. “I hired private investigators, scoured records, even contacted labs to trace potential matches. And… I think I found her.”

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

My heart thudded in my chest.

“There’s a woman,” he said. “Her name is Margaret. She’s staying here at the hotel. I didn’t tell you because… well, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it wasn’t her. I didn’t even know how to bring it up. But a few weeks ago, we got confirmation that her story matches yours. She’s been looking for you, Jen. My PI told me.”

Tears filled my eyes.

“You’ve been doing all this for me? And you didn’t tell me?”

A private investigator sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney

A private investigator sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney

He stepped closer, his voice gentle.

“I wanted to protect you. And… I wanted it to be a surprise for your birthday. If it was her, I mean.”

I sank into the closest armchair, my legs too shaky to hold me.

Two hours later, there was a knock at the door. My stomach flipped as Chris stood to answer it.

A woman sitting in an armchair | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in an armchair | Source: Midjourney

When the door opened, a woman stepped inside.

She was tall and graceful, with streaks of gray in her dark hair. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, locked onto mine, and I felt like the air had been punched out of my lungs.

We stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us speaking.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“Jennifer?”

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

My name on her lips sounded strange, foreign yet familiar.

I stood slowly, my hands trembling.

“You’re… my mother?”

Tears filled her eyes as she nodded.

“I think so. But… we should go to the lab for a DNA test, just to be sure.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I said, my voice firm despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “I don’t need a test. I know it’s you.”

It sounded stupid, I know. But I could see it all over her face. It was clear, if this woman wasn’t my mother, then she was still closely related to me.

She smiled softly, her tears spilling over.

“You look just like my mother,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”

I blinked, confused.

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been looking for me?”

She nodded, sitting down across from me.

“It’s a long story,” she said, her voice shaky. “Forty years ago, when I gave birth to you, there was a terrible mistake at the hospital. The nurse mixed up the babies… and I… I left with someone else’s child.”

My head spun.

“What?”

A newborn baby girl | Source: Midjourney

A newborn baby girl | Source: Midjourney

She shook her head.

“I didn’t know the truth until years later, when my daughter, well, the daughter I thought was mine, died in a car accident. A DNA test revealed she wasn’t biologically related to me. I was devastated. And that’s when I started searching for my real daughter. For you.”

My throat tightened.

“But… my mother left me at the hospital. That’s what my foster mother told me.”

The exterior of a hospital | Source: Midjourney

The exterior of a hospital | Source: Midjourney

Her face crumpled.

“I know. I think the woman who was supposed to take you home ran away when she realized the mistake. I’m so sorry, darling. You were abandoned because of what happened, and it’s all my fault. I passed out after I gave birth to you, I didn’t know any better when I came to.”

Tears streamed down my face as I tried to process everything.

Chris wrapped an arm around me, his touch grounding me.

A woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

“You’re not alone anymore,” he whispered.

Looking at the woman in front of me, my mother, I felt a strange mix of pain and hope. After years of wondering, I finally had answers. And on my birthday, of all days.

“It’s the best gift I could have asked for,” I said softly.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Two weeks later, we finally celebrated our wedding. My mother sat in the front row, tears shining in her eyes as Chris and I said, “I do.”

And for the first time in my life, I felt whole.

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney

When Jake insists on cooking Thanksgiving turkey for the first time, Jen is skeptical but supportive until the result is a culinary disaster no one at the table can ignore. But the real shock comes when she discovers the recipe isn’t Jake’s. As tensions simmer and doubts creep in, she’s forced to confront the cracks in their marriage. This Thanksgiving, the turkey isn’t the only thing leaving a bad aftertaste.

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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