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I Never Took What Wasn’t Mine: The Story of Martha, Nastya, and Lost Chances—From Envy, Hardship, and Schoolyard Cruelty to a Bittersweet Reunion and New Beginnings
NEVER TOOK ANOTHER’S Looking back now, I remember school days, when Margaret held nothing but disdainand
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Fate on a Hospital Bed: A Nurse’s Tender Care for a Tuberculosis Patient Leads to Unexpected Love, as a Cold-Hearted Wife Turns Away and Life’s Trials Forge a True Family Over the Years
FATE ON THE HOSPITAL BED “Miss, just take care of him! Im scared to go near him, let alone feed
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Make Room, We’re Planning to Live Here for the Next Ten Years: How My Husband’s Relatives Tried to Move into My Flat Without Asking—And Why I Refused to Evict My Tenants for Family Ties
Make Some Room, Well Stay Here for Ten Years For a moment, my mother-in-law fell silent, then she suddenly
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I Never Took What Wasn’t Mine: The Story of Martha and Nastya—A Schoolgirl’s Envy, a Family’s Downfall, and the Unexpected Turn of Fate That Changed Their Lives Forever
I never took what wasnt mine Back in school, Martha had this complicated cocktail of feelings toward
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He Pulled You Out of the Mire
Son, explain what you saw in her? Evelyn Harts voice sliced through the kitchens hush. A girl from the
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Life Sorted: “Lada, I Forbid You to Speak with Your Sister and Her Family!” – My Husband’s Jealousy, My Sister’s Serenity, and the Moment I Set Myself Free from an Unhappy Marriage to Find True Love with a Caring Man
LIFE IN ORDER “Vivian, I forbid you to speak with your sister and her family! They have their own
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We’re Moving Into Your Flat — Polly’s flat is great, right in the city centre. Freshly renovated — just move in and enjoy! — It’s perfect… for a single girl, — Rusty smiled patronisingly at Anna as though she were a clueless child. — But we’re planning two, maybe even three kids. Straight away, one after another. The city centre’s noisy, there’s no fresh air, nowhere to park. Plus, it’s only got two bedrooms. You lot have three here, plus it’s quiet, with a nursery just outside. — Oh, it really is a lovely area, — agreed Serge, still unsure where his future brother-in-law was going with all this. — That’s why we settled here. — Exactly! — Rusty snapped his fingers. — I keep telling Polly: why struggle with less space when there’s a ready-made solution? There’s too much room for the three of you and your daughter. What do you need all that space for? You don’t even use your spare room — it’s just storage. For us, it would be perfect. Anna was wrestling an unwieldy vacuum cleaner into the tiny hall cupboard. The hoover protested, snagging its hose on coat hangers and absolutely refusing to fit in its allotted space. — Serge, give us a hand! — she called out towards the living room. — Either the cupboard’s shrunk, or I’ve forgotten how to put things away. Serge poked his head out of the bathroom — he’d just finished fixing the tap. Calm, always a bit slow, Serge was Anna’s complete opposite. — Don’t worry, Ann, I’ve got this. Pass it here. He smoothly shifted the heavy thing and tucked it out of sight into the corner of the cupboard. Anna exhaled and leaned against the doorframe. — Tell me again, why do we never seem to have enough space? This flat’s big, three bedrooms and all, but the minute we start cleaning it’s as if our whole life’s overflowing into the street. — That’s because you’re a chronic hoarder, — Serge chuckled. — Why do we have three dinner sets? We only use one, twice a year. — Let them be, they’re memories. It was Gran’s flat, after all. After the wedding, Serge’s parents split the inheritance fairly: their son got this spacious three-bedroom flat in a quiet area — Gran’s flat — and his sister Polly got the two-bedder right in the city centre, in the “golden square”. It worked out roughly the same value. For five years, everyone got along famously, no hard feelings on either side. Anna naively thought it would always stay that way, but… *** They finished tidying, sorted the mess, sat down for a breather. No sooner had they turned on the telly when the doorbell rang. Serge went to open it. — Sis and her fiancé are here, — he called to his wife after peering through the peephole. Polly flitted in first, followed heavily by Rusty. Anna had only met him a couple of times before — Polly found him at the gym about six months back. Anna didn’t like Rusty from the start — too pompous, a bit condescending. He always looked down his nose at both Serge and her. — Heya! — Polly kissed her brother and hugged Anna. — We were just passing, thought we’d pop in. We’ve got news! — Well, do come in, if you’re just passing. News is always good, — Serge gestured towards the kitchen. — Tea? — Just water, thanks, — Rusty traipsed after the host. — We need a proper chat, Serge. Actually, we weren’t just “passing”. It’s about something important. No need to fuss or make tea. Just come sit. Anna suddenly felt anxious — she didn’t like Rusty’s tone one bit. What’s all this about? — Go on, spit it out, — Serge shrugged. Polly pretended not to be in the room at all — engrossed in her phone, leaving Rusty to speak for them. Rusty cleared his throat. — Here’s the thing. Polly and I have set a date. Wedding in three months. Naturally, I have serious plans for us. A family, a long, happy life together. We were talking about our living situation and… We’re moving in here, and you two can swap into Polly’s flat! Anna was gobsmacked. She looked at her husband, then at Polly — but Polly kept on scrolling, as if none of this had anything to do with her. — Rusty, I don’t get it, — Serge frowned. — What are you getting at? — I’m not getting at anything, I’m offering a constructive solution. Let’s swap! We move in here; you lot take Polly’s flat. Pol’s completely on board, we both reckon it’s the fair thing. Anna was gobsmacked all over again. — Fair? — she repeated. — Rusty, are you serious? You waltz into our home and suggest we move out because you’ve decided it’s time for children? — No need to be so dramatic, Anna, — Rusty grimaced. — I’m being realistic. You’ve one child and, as far as I know, no plans for more. So why stretch out in all this extra space? Not practical. Whereas we… we’ve got big plans. — Big plans, have you! — Anna leapt up. — Serge, you hearing this rubbish? Serge raised a hand, signalling for Anna to hold her tongue. — Rusty, maybe you’ve forgotten, but my parents gave me this flat. Just like Polly’s got hers. We spent five years making this place a home, picked out every skirting board ourselves. Our daughter’s growing up here. She’s got her own room, routines, friends in the building. And you think we should up sticks and move to the city centre just because it suits you better? — Come on, mate, — Rusty leaned back insolently. — We’re family. Polly’s your flesh and blood. Doesn’t your sister’s future matter to you? Besides, I’m offering you equal value. You’d get a place in a prime location. Actually, you’re winning out pricewise. I did the maths. — Funny, that, — Serge snorted. — You’re not even married to my sister yet and you’re already eyeing up my flat! Finally, Polly looked up from her phone. — Oh, come on, — she whined. — Rusty just wants the best for us. We’ll be really cramped in my place if we have kids. And your hallway is big enough for five-a-side! Mum always said family comes first. Remember, Serge? — Mum said family should help, not chuck each other out of their homes! — Anna snapped. — Do you even realise what your Rusty’s suggesting? — What’s so bad about it? — Polly batted her eyelashes. — He’s being reasonable. We need it more. You’re not even using your extra room. — It’s not spare! — Anna nearly shouted. — That’s my study! I work in there, have you forgotten? — ‘Work’… — Rusty rolled his eyes. — You post pictures on the internet? Polly says that’s just a hobby. You could perch at the kitchen table with your laptop, it’s not like you’re Lady Muck. Serge stood slowly. — Right, — he said in a low voice. — That’s enough. Time for you both to leave. — Serge, come off it, — Rusty didn’t budge. — We came here to have a sensible, family discussion. — Sensible? — Serge stepped up to the table. — You come here demanding my flat, insulting my wife, deciding where my daughter should live? Do you have any shame at all? — Shame? Serge! — Anna stood at her husband’s side. — It’s sheer greed. The bloke doesn’t even have a ring on your sister’s finger and he’s already divvying up her assets. Polly, do you even realise who you’ve brought into the family? He’ll chuck you out of your own place first chance he gets! — Don’t speak about him like that! — Polly shot up, too. — Rusty cares about me! About ‘us’! And you lot… just greedy, clinging onto your precious rooms. And you call yourselves family! — I’ll tell you who’s greedy — your future husband, — Serge pointed sternly towards the door. — Once and for all: get out. And forget about any flat swap. If I hear about it again, we’re done. No contact, ever. Rusty rose, straightening his shirt collar. Not a flicker of embarrassment — only annoyance. — Suit yourself, Serge. I thought we could be reasonable. But if you want to be stubborn… Polly, come on! Once the door slammed behind them, Anna collapsed onto the sofa. She was shaking. — Did you see that? Did you hear that? — she stared at Serge, wide-eyed. — The nerve! Who even is that guy? Serge was silent, standing at the window, watching Rusty open his car like he owned the place, barking something at Polly. — You know what’s worst? — Serge said at last. — Polly actually thinks he’s right. She’s always been… a bit away with the fairies, but this? — He’s brainwashed her! — Anna burst out. — Serge, ring your mum. Your parents need to hear what their future son-in-law’s really like. — Wait, — Serge pulled out his phone. — I’ll call my sister first. One-to-one. Without the peacock. He dialled. The call rang for ages before Polly, crying, picked up. — Hello, — came the muffled voice. — Polly, listen to me, — Serge’s tone was hard. — Are you with him, in the car? — What does it matter? — If he’s there, put me on speaker. He can hear this too. — I’m not. — Polly sniffled. — He dropped me outside and sped off. Said he needed to clear his head, because my family are all selfish. Serge, why are you all like this? He just wanted everything to be perfect… — Polly, wake up! — Serge almost shouted. — Perfect? He came here to wrangle my flat out of us! Did he even discuss this ‘swap’ with you beforehand? Silence. — No, — Polly whispered at last. — He said he had a surprise for everyone. A way to make things better for all of us. — Some surprise. He decides what’s best for you and me — never even asked. Polly, do you even realise who you’re marrying? He’s a gold digger. Today it’s our flat, tomorrow your car’s too small, and next he’ll be hinting your parents need to give up their cottage so he can get some ‘fresh air’. — Don’t say that… — Polly’s voice shook. — He loves me. — If he did, he wouldn’t be kicking off scandal for no reason. He’s just played us off against each other! Anna’s still in shock. Don’t you see? He wanted to turn us against each other. — I’ll talk to him, — Polly said uncertainly. — Do. And think hard before you head down the aisle. Serge hit disconnect, tossing his phone onto the sofa. — What did she say? — Anna whispered. — Said she didn’t know — Rusty had planned his ‘surprise’. Anna gave a bitter laugh. — Picture it: struts in thinking he owns the place, shifting people like chess pieces. Flats here, people there. Ugh. Makes my skin crawl. — Never mind, — Serge put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. — We’re not giving up our home. End of. But I feel sorry for my sister. She’s going to regret him. *** Serge and Anna’s worst fears didn’t come true — the wedding never happened. Rusty dumped Polly that very night. Polly, in tears, turned up at her brother’s later and told them what had happened. Rusty had returned immediately and started packing. Polly panicked, asking what was going on. Rusty declared he wasn’t about to become related to such selfish people. — Said he doesn’t need relatives like ‘that’, — Polly sobbed. — Said he can’t count on you. Said you wouldn’t even babysit for us when we need a weekend off. And you wouldn’t give us any money, even if we asked. — Oh, Polly, don’t let it get to you! — Anna protested. — You’re better off without him! You can’t count on someone like that. He’ll never care about anyone but himself. Forget him! Polly was upset for a couple of months, but she got over it. She realised the truth in time — and how had she not seen her fiancé’s rotten side before? If she’d married him, she’d have been miserable forever. She’d dodged a bullet — truly.
Were Moving into Your Flat Emilys got a lovely flat in the heart of town. Freshly done upjust move in
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I Came to Visit Because I Missed You, But My Grown Children Now Feel Like Strangers to Me
I came to visit because I missed you, but my own children feel like strangers now A parents heart always
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The Fog Has Cleared
The fog lifts Lately Sarah Finch spends a lot of time wondering about her life. It feels dull every day
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LIFE BACK ON TRACK “Lada, I forbid you from speaking to your sister or her family! They have their life, we have ours. Did you call Natasha again? Complain about me? I warned you. Don’t blame me for what happens,” Bogdan snarled, gripping my shoulder painfully. As always, I silently retreated to the kitchen, bitter tears stinging my eyes. No, I had never burdened my sister with complaints about my life—our conversations were simply about our elderly parents and family matters. That infuriated Bogdan. He hated my sister Natasha; her family enjoyed peace and comfort, unlike us. When I married Bogdan, I was the happiest girl in the world. Swept up in his whirlwind of passion, I didn’t care that he was a head shorter or that his mother arrived at our wedding barely staying upright. I later learned she was a long-time alcoholic. Love blinded me to everything, but after a year, I started doubting my happiness. Bogdan drank heavily, stumbling home drunk, then came the string of affairs. My salary as a nurse wasn’t great, but Bogdan preferred spending his time with fellow drinkers, never caring to provide for me. Where once I had dreamed of children, now I contented myself with caring for our prize pedigree cat. I no longer wanted a child with an alcoholic. Still, I loved Bogdan. “You silly girl, Lada! There are so many men around you, and you obsess over that little man! What do you see in him? You’re always covered in bruises from his beatings. Think nobody notices your black eyes under makeup? Leave before he kills you,” my friend and coworker would warn me. Bogdan’s anger often became physical—one day he beat me so badly I couldn’t make my shift, locking me in the flat as he left. After that, I lived in fear of him, my heart racing whenever his key turned in the lock. It felt as though he was punishing me for not giving him a child, for being a “bad wife,” for everything. Why did I still love Bogdan? His mother, witch-like, used to admonish, “Lada, obey your husband, love him with all you have, forget your family and friends—they’ll bring you no good.” And so I withdrew from loved ones and submitted entirely to Bogdan. I lived for his tearful apologies, when he begged forgiveness at my feet, showered our bed with rose petals (stolen from a mate’s wife next door). These reconciliations felt magical, lifting me to the clouds—until the cycle of violence resumed. I might still be trapped if not for a twist of fate—a stranger appeared: “Leave Bogdan, I have his son. You’re barren; let me give my child happiness.” I screamed at her to leave, but Bogdan couldn’t deny her claim. When I demanded the truth, he was silent—and I understood everything. “Lada, you never seem happy. Is something wrong?” asked the head doctor at my hospital, Mr. Herman Lyon, previously aloof. “I’m fine,” I stammered. “It’s a blessing to have your life in order. Then the world is beautiful,” he replied, his simple words piercing my soul. I realised my life was chaos—and time, running out, wouldn’t pause for me to sort myself. Eventually, I left Bogdan and moved back in with my parents. Mum was shocked: “Lada, has your husband thrown you out?” “No, Mum. I’ll explain everything later.” Bogdan’s mother called to hurl insults and curses, but I felt free and new, thanks to Mr. Lyon. Bogdan raged, stalked, threatened—but he never guessed he’d lost all hold over me. “Bogdan, don’t waste your time—I’ve moved on. Your son needs you. I’ve turned a new page. Goodbye.” At last, I returned to Natasha and my family. I became myself again, not someone’s puppet. “You’ve changed, Lada—you’re glowing, so full of life, you look like a bride!” my friend exclaimed. Mr. Lyon proposed: “Lada, marry me! I promise you won’t regret it. But please, just call me by my name—save the formalities for work.” “Do you really love me, Herman?” I asked, stunned. “Oh, forgive me—women want to hear it. I suppose I do love you. But I believe in actions more than words,” he answered, kissing my hand. “I will, Herman. I’m sure I can learn to love you,” I beamed. Ten years flew by. Every day, Herman proved his love—no empty words, no lies, just caring and generosity. We never had children of our own, but it never bothered Herman. “We were meant to be just the two of us, and that’s enough,” he always reassured me. His daughter gave us a beloved granddaughter, Sasha, who became the joy of our lives. As for Bogdan, he eventually drank himself to death before he turned fifty. His mother still glares at me if we meet, but her malice no longer touches me. I only pity her. And with Herman, life truly is back on track. Life is beautiful…
LIFE IN ORDER Linda, I wont have you talking to your sister or her lot anymore! They’