
Anna returned home from the cafe, packed her belongings, and drove to her grandfather’s house in the countryside. It was a small blue cottage with a wooden door, very different from Anna’s in Cleveland, but here she could find peace and a well-deserved break from housework and, especially, Edward’s lies.
The woman creaked open the gate upon arrival, but as she took a step forward towards the front door, she noticed a man lying unconscious in the yard with a shovel beside him. Blood had covered every square inch of the shovel as if someone had hit him on the head with it.
Anna called 911 right away and rushed the man to the hospital. Fortunately, they made it in time, and the man was out of danger. But when she got home from the hospital, she had another surprise in store for her. Her dear husband Edward was waiting for her at the cottage.
“I have been searching for you the whole day, Anna! You just disappeared without a trace. Where have you been?” Edward inquired.
“Because you were so preoccupied with your work and ‘client meetings,’ I decided to take a vacation with my baby,” Anna said indifferently. “It’s not as if I have to ask you for your permission for everything. Anyway, what are you doing here?”
Edward’s tone abruptly shifted. “Are you upset about something, honey? Do you want me to get you something?”
“No, Edward,” Anna retorted. “Right now, all I need is sleep. So, please move. And, yes, I’ll be sleeping alone, so you can sleep outside on the couch!”
Anna went to bed, but her thoughts kept returning to the man she’d discovered unconscious in her yard. What exactly was he doing here? Was she on the lookout for something? Is he familiar with me? And how did he get a head injury? Her head was racing with questions.
Anna fell asleep while trying to find answers for her inquisitive mind and was awakened by the sun the following day. It was mildly cold, so she reached out for the blanket, but she couldn’t find it.
She awoke, irritated, and was about to yell at Edward if he’d pulled it to his side when she realized she’d been sleeping alone.
However, as Anna looked around the room, she noticed it was in a terrible state. The blanket had been thrown on the floor, her room’s cupboard had open drawers, and her luggage had been opened and rummaged through.
If this is you, Edward, I swear you’re dead today! Anna was furious as she dashed into the living room. But that space was in no better shape. It was even messier than she’d found it when she first entered the house, and Edward was nowhere to be found.
She was about to go outside and check the yard for him, but just then, her gaze was drawn to a crumpled sheet of paper on the ground. When she picked it up, she discovered it was a blueprint for her cottage with a red circle at its center.
She dashed to the loft as it came under the circled region and discovered that, too, was messed up. Edward had vanished as if he didn’t exist, and the yard had been dug out in one corner.
Worried, she was about to call him, but just then she heard a voice from behind. “I’m sorry, but I hope I didn’t disturb you!” it said.
Anna turned around and discovered the man she’d saved the previous day standing at the doorstep. “Oh, it’s you! Are you all right now?” she worriedly inquired.
The man sighed as he looked around Anna’s house, which was in a state of disarray. “I was taken to the hospital on time thanks to your assistance,” he said. “By the way, my name is Andrew. Can I come inside, if you don’t mind? I’d like to speak with you about something…”
Anna offered tea to Andrew, and that’s when he started telling her the whole story. Andrew turned out to have cared for Anna’s grandfather in his final days. So, before his death, her grandfather told the kind man about the treasure hidden in the yard near his house.
“He also gave me a letter,” Andrew explained, “and it was addressed to you to an address in Florida. I went there, but you’d already left, so I waited until you came back so I could give it to you. I wasn’t there on his funeral day; otherwise, we could have met that day.”
Anna opened the letter and began reading it.
“Dear Anna, I hope you’re doing well,” the letter began, “I know it might come as a shock to you, but I have a box hidden in my yard, and there’s a map to it.”
“My grandfather gave it to me before he died, and I wanted to give it to you on your wedding day, but I’m sorry to say that your husband already has his eye on it. Edward is not who he appears to be. He came to see me after you two got married and overheard me talking to Andrew.”
“By the way, Andrew is the man who will most likely deliver this letter to you. The brooch you’ll find inside the box is worth millions of dollars, and it is a relic of our ancestors that has been passed down to us. Edward will not find it as long as he does not obtain the map. I hope you find it and keep it in a safe place. Love, Grandpa Silas.”
As Anna finished the letter, she showed a picture of Edward to Andrew. “Have you seen him around, or do you know him?”
“Oh, yes, he’s the man who comes here often. When I came here that day to clean the yard, I found him here, and he hit me over the head with a shovel.”
When Andrew said that, it all made sense: Edward’s sudden appearance at the cottage and his sudden disappearance. Anna immediately called the police and informed them of the situation. In no time, Edward was apprehended, and he confessed to the theft, and Anna was able to recover the brooch.
After the incident, Anna decided to cut all ties with Edward, who’s serving time in prison, and she and Andrew are now raising her son, Brandon, together.
What can we learn from this story?
You can’t escape karma. Edward decided to flee with the ancient brooch, but he was apprehended and punished for his actions.
Everything in life happens for a reason. If Anna hadn’t caught Edward cheating on her that day, she would never have found out the truth about Edward.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young mother who found an old crib on her doorstep with an envelope inside.
My Husband Invited His Entire Office to Our Thanksgiving Without Telling Me – My Revenge Was Delicious

When Zoe’s husband invites 15 coworkers to Thanksgiving — without warning — her cozy holiday turns chaotic. With a smile sharper than her carving knife, she channels her fury into orchestrating a feast they’ll never forget. Can she pull it off while teaching her husband a lesson he won’t live down?
Thanksgiving morning came in like a hurricane. My coffee had gone cold on the counter while I darted between rescuing the living room walls from Emma’s artistic endeavors and intercepting Jake, who’d somehow scaled the counter to get his tiny hands on a plate of cookies.

A boy reaching for a cookie | Source: Midjourney
“Emma, honey, we color on paper, not the walls,” I said, peeling the crayon from her sticky fingers.
She looked up at me with a grin both innocent and maddening.
“Jake!” I called, snatching the plate just as he made off with another cookie. He gave me a gummy smile, crumbs tumbling down his chin like tiny confessions.

A boy holding a cookie | Source: Midjourney
I sighed and scooped him off the counter, setting him on the floor with a toy spatula as a peace offering.
The turkey was in the oven, the table half-set, and the mashed potatoes — well, they were still more like potato chunks, but I was determined.
Hosting Thanksgiving was my Everest every year. Sure, it was stressful, but there was something deeply satisfying about pulling it off, even if my in-laws did nothing but offer critiques disguised as helpful suggestions.

A woman cooking | Source: Midjourney
I’d barely taken a breath when the front door slammed open. Dan’s voice boomed through the chaos.
“We’re here!”
We?
I turned, still holding a bowl of partly mashed potatoes, to see Dan standing in the entryway. He was beaming, the kind of grin he wore when he’d made a decision he thought was brilliant but was about to wreck my day.

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
Behind him, a parade of unfamiliar faces streamed in, each looking ready for a party. Some held bottles of wine or bags of snacks, while others glanced around uncertainly, clearly sensing that their arrival wasn’t as warmly anticipated as Dan had promised.
“Dan,” I said slowly, my voice edged with warning, “who’s ‘we’?”
He didn’t notice the tension in my tone, and even worse, chose to ignore it. His grin widened, oblivious to the rising storm.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“I invited a few coworkers,” he said casually as if this were something we’d discussed in detail and agreed upon over breakfast. “They didn’t have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving. Isn’t that what the holidays are all about?”
I stared at him, the words not quite connecting in my brain. Did he seriously just say a few coworkers? My grip tightened around the bowl of potatoes, the ridges of its edge digging into my palms.
“A few?” I managed, my voice climbing a little higher with each word.

A shocked woman holding a bowl | Source: Midjourney
“Fifteen,” he replied, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He was still grinning, proud of his altruistic brilliance. “But it’s no big deal! Just make a couple more portions. You’re great at this stuff.”
I blinked, the number reverberating in my skull. Fifteen. Fifteen unexpected, unplanned, utterly uninvited people standing in my house on Thanksgiving, the day I dreaded each year for its precise balancing act of chaos and tradition.
For a moment, I was too stunned to do anything but picture my bowl of potatoes sailing through the air toward Dan’s head.

A bowl of potatoes flying through the air | Source: DALL-E
The fantasy was short-lived but oh-so-satisfying. I could almost hear the splat as the potatoes scattered like confetti.
But alas, I was not the kind of woman who hurled produce. At least, not yet.
Instead, I took a deep breath, the kind that makes your chest feel too tight but stops you from screaming. Plastering on a smile that felt more like barbed wire than warmth, I pivoted toward the living room, where Dan’s coworkers were now awkwardly congregating near the couch.

People standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
Emma was circling their legs like a determined little tornado, holding up her latest crayon masterpiece, while Jake toddled around with a triumphant fistful of crackers he’d scavenged from God knows where.
“Welcome, everyone!” I called, clapping my hands together so loudly it startled one poor guy into dropping his snack bag. “So glad you could join us! Since this was a little… unexpected,” I said, letting the pause hang heavily in the air, “I’ll need some help to make it all come together.”
Dan’s grin faltered. That alone was enough to give me a spark of satisfaction.

A man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“Uh, I thought you had everything under control—”
“Oh, I do,” I said sweetly, my voice dripping with the kind of sugary determination that made my children instinctively behave. “But you can take the kids upstairs so I can focus down here.”
He opened his mouth to argue, the flicker of panic crossing his face suggesting he realized too late that he had underestimated the situation.
I gave him a pointed look. He closed his mouth and glanced around the room for an ally. None of his coworkers made eye contact. They all suddenly seemed deeply interested in the patterns on my living room rug. Smart move.

People standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
With Dan momentarily neutralized, I turned back to the crowd, my smile now dialed up to full-on mom-general mode.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Jim,” — I decided the man fumbling with the dropped snack looked like a Jim — “can you continue mashing these potatoes? And you, Sarah, right? Great. Sarah, could you help set the table?”
They hesitated, unsure whether this was part of some elaborate Thanksgiving tradition or just my thinly veiled way of punishing them.

People exchanging awkward glances | Source: Midjourney
“The kitchen is just through here, follow me,” I added, turning to lead the way.
Soon, everyone was busy with their assignments like recruits who knew better than to question their drill sergeant.
Dan returned after about ten minutes, now wearing a paper turkey glued to his shirt, courtesy of Emma’s relentless crafting enthusiasm. Jake trailed after him with a smug look, holding a juice box I was certain he hadn’t asked for.

A boy holding a juice box | Source: Midjourney
Dan surveyed the scene, his mouth opening in what was likely another attempt at commentary, but I shut it down with a simple glance. My impromptu army was working, and no way was he going to derail it now.
The sound of the potato peeler scraping against tubers joined the clinking of plates and the occasional giggle of guests trying to navigate their tasks.
It was chaos, yes, but it was my chaos.

A confident woman | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t all smooth sailing. Someone spilled cranberry sauce on my rug, and another coworker accidentally doubled the sugar in the sweet potatoes. But somehow, by sheer force of will (and a little wine), the chaos began to look like progress.
Dinner came together like a miracle. The table groaned under the weight of turkey, stuffing, and all the trimmings, each dish looking more impressive than the last.
I took my seat at the head of the table, raising my glass with a triumphant smile.

A woman making a toast | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” I began, my tone warm but pointed. “This wouldn’t have been possible without your help — literally. I hope you enjoyed seeing what Thanksgiving prep looks like in this house. Isn’t teamwork amazing?”
Dan’s boss chuckled. “Dan, you didn’t tell us we’d be working on our day off!”
The table erupted in laughter. Dan gave a sheepish smile, sinking lower into his chair. I allowed myself a moment of smug satisfaction.

A sheepish man at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
After dessert, I stood, clapping my hands once more. “Alright, everyone, let’s tackle the clean-up together! Dan, why don’t you lead the dishwashing crew? You’re so good at organizing.”
Dan’s coworkers didn’t even blink. They rose, collecting plates and stacking bowls as if it were second nature.
I watched from the doorway as Dan scrubbed dishes, a streak of whipped cream on his cheek and an expression of utter defeat on his face.

A man washing dishes | Source: Midjourney
Jake toddled over, tugging at his pant leg, and Dan crouched down, his voice soft but tired.
“I’m sorry, buddy. Mommy’s the boss, isn’t she?”
You bet your glued-on turkey she is, I thought, smirking as I headed back to the dining room.
Later that night, as the house finally quieted and the kids snored softly in their beds, Dan found me on the couch. He sat down beside me, handing me a mug of tea.

A woman holding a mug of tea | Source: Pexels
“Zoe,” he began, running a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how much work goes into this. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.”
I let the silence stretch just long enough for him to squirm. “No, you shouldn’t have,” I said, though my tone was more teasing than angry now.
He gave me a small smile. “You were amazing today.”
I sipped my tea, leaning back onto the couch with a satisfied sigh.

A woman relaxing | Source: Midjourney
“Just remember this next time you think about inviting an entire office to Thanksgiving.”
“Next time?” He looked horrified, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Let’s hope there’s no next time,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder.
Thanksgiving was a rollercoaster, but at least it was our rollercoaster, and I was firmly in the driver’s seat.

A confident woman | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story: My MIL Gloria crossed a line when she strutted into Thanksgiving with a turkey bearing a photo of my face. Her humiliating “joke” in front of the family was the last straw. But little did Gloria know, I had a plan to turn her stunt into the talk of the town — for all the wrong reasons.
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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