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Even the Good Ones Get Left Behind
In the mirror, Alice gazed at her own reflection: a beautiful thirty-five-year-old woman with melancholy eyes.
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I’m a Tired Single Mum Working as a Cleaner.
Im a exhausted single mum working as a cleaner. On my way home I spot a newborn abandoned on a cold bus stop.
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As Long As There’s Life, It’s Never Too Late: A Heartfelt Story of Family, Second Chances, and Finding Happiness at Any Age
As long as you’re alive, it’s never too late. A Story Well then, Mum, as we agreed, Ill pick
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The Long-Awaited Granddaughter Natalya Mikhailovna kept anxiously calling her son, who was away on yet another voyage. But there was still no signal. “Oh, what trouble have you gotten into now, my boy!” she sighed, worried, as she dialed his familiar number again. Call after call—no answer until he reached the next port, which might not happen soon. And at a time like this! For the second night, Natalya Mikhailovna couldn’t sleep—her son had really made a mess this time! *** This whole story began a few years ago, back when Misha never dreamed of taking up life at sea. Her son was already a grown man, but things with women never seemed to work out—they were always, as he put it, “not quite right.” With a pang in her heart, Natalya Mikhailovna watched as one relationship after another ended with perfectly lovely, respectable girls (at least in her opinion). “You’re impossible to please,” she’d scold him. “What woman will ever live up to your standards?” “I don’t see your point, Mum. You want a daughter-in-law so badly you don’t care who she really is?” “Of course I care! I want someone who will love you—who’s decent, that’s all!” He’d just stay silent—something that always annoyed Natalya Mikhailovna. What right had her own son, whom she’d raised and comforted, to act as if he knew better than she did? Who was the grown-up in this family anyway? “But what was wrong with Anastasia?!” she’d finally snap. “I’ve told you already.” “Well… fine.” Anastasia was a poor example, but Natalya Mikhailovna wasn’t ready to concede. “Maybe she wasn’t honest with you—but I still don’t quite get it…” “Mum, let’s not get into details. She wasn’t the one for me.” “What about Katie?” “Not Katie, either.” Calm, steady voice. “And Jenny? She was a good girl! Cheerful, helpful around the house—a real homemaker, wasn’t she?” “Yes, Mum, she was very sweet. But it turned out she never really loved me.” “And you? Did you love her?” “I suppose I didn’t.” “And Daria?” “Mum!” “Oh, what—‘Mum’! No one can ever please you! You’re just a womanizer! Why can’t you settle down, start a family, give me grandchildren?” “Let’s drop this pointless conversation!” Mikhail would finally snap, and leave. “He’s just like his father, so particular and stubborn!” Natalya Mikhailovna would fume after him. Months passed, girls drifted in and out of Misha’s life, but the one dream—seeing him happily married and fussing over grandchildren—remained unfulfilled. Then, Misha changed careers after running into an old friend, who offered him a job at sea. He accepted, despite his mother’s protests. “This is a great offer, Mum! Do you know how much guys earn on ships? We’ll be set for life!” “What good is money if you’re never home? You should be building a family, not running off to sea!” “A family needs to be provided for, too! And once I have kids, I’ll settle down for good. Better earn now while I’m still young—and then, everything else will fall into place!” He truly did earn well. After his first trip, he renovated her flat. After his second, he opened a savings account and handed her a bank card. “So you’ll never be in need!” “But I don’t need anything! Except grandchildren—and time’s running out. I’m getting old!” “Stop it, you’re not old! You’ve got years till retirement,” he laughed. Natalya Mikhailovna barely touched the card, living modestly on her own wages at the local chemist. She’d just smile at the growing balance: “Let him see how thrifty his mother is!” That became their routine. When Mikhail returned from a voyage, he’d catch up with friends, stay out late, and see other women—without ever introducing them to his mother. When she confronted him, he replied coldly: “That’s so you won’t get attached or fret over me not marrying them. I have no intention of marrying girls like that, Mum.” It hurt her. Especially when he said: “You’re too trusting. You never really knew those girls. They just acted nice for you; they weren’t what you thought.” The words stung. Trusting, as if that meant foolish. He’d called his own mother a fool! But one evening, she saw him with a new girl—and her old determination flared up. She approached boldly, forcing Misha to introduce the young woman, blushing and all. Milena was her name. She was tall, slim, curly-haired with gentle manners. Natalya Mikhailovna, delighted, thought: “Maybe this, finally, is the right one! Perhaps it’s a good thing nothing worked out with the others.” Their romance lasted Misha’s entire leave. By Natalya’s urging, Milena often visited, quickly endearing herself with her wit and grace. But as Misha prepared to leave for the next voyage—Milena vanished. “We’re not seeing each other anymore. And you shouldn’t, either,” her son said before departing. Natalya Mikhailovna puzzled and worried, but no answers were forthcoming. *** A year passed. Misha returned several times, but rebuffed all questions about Milena. “I don’t understand, Misha. What was wrong with this one?” she implored. “It’s my business, Mum. Don’t interfere. If we broke up, there was a reason. Please—don’t meddle in my life.” She almost cried. “But I just worry about you!” “You don’t need to! And I told you—don’t talk to Milena! Stop pestering me!” He was gone again, and she resumed her routine, nursing her sadness. Then one day while working at the pharmacy, a young woman came in for baby formula—it was Milena, pushing a stroller. Milena blushed and adjusted the hat on her little girl. “Milena! I’m so glad to see you! Misha won’t explain anything—he left again and won’t let me ask about you!” Natalya Mikhailovna burst out, overjoyed. “Is that so?” Milena answered sadly. “Well, let it be.” Natalya grew anxious. “Please, my dear, what happened between you and Misha? I know my son—he can be difficult. Did he do something to hurt you?” “It’s not important… I hold no grudge. We’ll get going, got other errands.” “But please come visit! Or drop by here—my schedule’s flexible. We should chat, at least!” Milena did come, soon buying formula again. Gradually, she opened up: She’d gotten pregnant with Mikhail’s child, but he’d made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the baby, claimed voyages left no room for serious commitments, and disappeared. “We’re not looking for handouts! We’ll manage,” Milena shrugged. Natalya knelt by the stroller, gazing at the child: “Does this mean—she’s my granddaughter?” “Looks like it,” Milena whispered. “Her name’s Annie.” “Annie…” *** Natalya Mikhailovna was beside herself. She learned Milena, from out of town, had been struggling to pay rent. Thinking of Annie leaving for another city, possibly never seeing her again, made Natalya’s heart ache. “Come stay with me, Milena. Both of you! Annie is my granddaughter! I’ll help, you’ll find work, and Misha sends so much money I have nothing to spend it on. Annie will have everything!” “What will Misha say?” “Who cares? He made his bed! Abandoned his child and kept it secret from me! It’s up to me to make things right! When he returns, I’ll deal with him. Mark my words!” Natalya Mikhailovna shook her fist. So that’s how their new life began. She doted on her granddaughter, cutting down her hours at the chemist to spend more time with Annie while Milena worked and came home tired. “On your feet all day, that must be hard!” “It’s just work, lots of angry customers.” “Don’t worry! Go rest—I’ll bathe Annie and put her to bed!” Mikhail’s leave drew closer. Natalya Mikhailovna anticipated greeting him—fists ready to “set him straight”—but Milena grew increasingly anxious. “Once Misha gets home, he’ll throw us out, you’ll see! I should never have moved in,” Milena fretted. “Nonsense! He won’t dare,” Natalya insisted. “If anyone’s in charge of this flat, it’s me!” Despite all Milena’s hesitations, Natalya prevailed—they stayed. “Here’s what I’m thinking,” Natalya one day announced, “I should sign the flat over to Annie at once! Just in case. Misha may never marry, but Annie deserves something. Especially as Misha’s not listed on her birth certificate,” she nodded meaningfully at Milena, who looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry… I never expected…” “I understand. But if it ever comes down to it, proving she’s his won’t be easy. Tomorrow, we’ll do the paperwork properly.” “No, please, you don’t have to! My parents have a flat too…” “Don’t try to argue—I’ve already decided!” But at the solicitor’s, they heard: “Your son needs to sign off on the flat before you can transfer it to your granddaughter.” Natalya was frustrated, but Mikhail’s return was only days away. Strangely, Milena now grew distant. “Why are you gone so much these days?” Natalya asked, noticing one night that Milena’s things were packed in a bag hidden behind the bed. “You’re not moving out, are you?!” “Once Misha comes back, I have to go!” “You aren’t leaving with my granddaughter!” Natalya declared. She reminded Milena where the bank card and pin was, insisting she could use it instead of working herself to exhaustion. Milena said nothing. Mikhail arrived two days later. *** On the morning of his return, Natalya peeked into the room—Milena was gone, only Annie sleeping peacefully. “Where’s she gone at this hour? She’s never left this early!” In the kitchen, finishing preparations for Misha’s arrival, she rehearsed confronting her son with Annie in her arms, ready to demand apologies when Milena returned. The doorbell finally rang. Mikhail froze at the door, stunned to see his mother with a little girl. “Hello, Mum. Who’s the kid? What did I miss while I was away?” “That’s what you should know!” “I’m lost, Mum. What happened here?” “Adventures? I found my granddaughter, Annie! That’s what’s happened!” Natalya locked eyes with him. “Granddaughter? Are you keeping secrets—do I have siblings?” “Oh, stop the act! Milena told me everything! I raised you better than this! I’m ashamed of you!” “Milena? Wait, first, I asked you not to speak to her. Second, what does this child have to do with it?” Natalya exploded, detailing everything—spiced with heavy reproaches. Mikhail clutched his head: “Mum! You…” “What—you’ll call me foolish again? Go ahead. But I—” “She’s not my child! Milena tricked you, Mum… You’re—so trusting! Wait, I bet she just wanted money, that’s all… What did she get?” “Nothing! You—” “Mum, check your savings! Milena’s probably long gone with them!” “She just went to work!” Natalya insisted. They argued on. Finally, Mikhail agreed to wait for Milena’s return for the truth. They waited into the night. Natalya related the whole story—how she’d met Milena, cared for Annie, and wanted to make things right. Mikhail kept repeating she’d been deceived. “I don’t believe you! Milena’s a wonderful girl—” “She’s a wonderful con artist, from the looks of it. And you fell for it so easily!” “Stop it! When Milena comes back, you can apologize! Meanwhile, I’ll play with my granddaughter.” “She isn’t your granddaughter!” The two glowered at each other. “Anyway,” Mikhail added, “a DNA test will resolve it.” “Exactly—we’ll do just that!” Natalya replied haughtily, and went off. Evening turned to night—Milena never returned. Her phone went unanswered. At the place she claimed to work, nobody knew her; Natalya, desperate, showed Annie’s photo, but no one recognized the woman. Back home, she checked her things—money and the bank card gone, along with Milena’s belongings, except for Annie’s. Only then did Natalya realize she’d been tricked. “How could she? She wouldn’t just abandon Annie, would she?” “She’s done worse,” Mikhail said darkly. “Guys told me—she robbed one of them blind. Then, later, I learned she was pregnant, who knows by who. Claimed it was mine. But everyone said she was with a different man every week.” “I was a fool! Why didn’t you warn me?” “I didn’t want to upset you. You’re—always so open-hearted. No need to spoil that.” “So… what now?” “Police, Mum! Good thing you couldn’t transfer the flat. We’d be out on the street.” They filed a report, but Milena was never found. Months went by. She hadn’t been able to steal much—once Mikhail discovered what happened, he locked the account, and later, the lost card resurfaced at a train station. While authorities searched for the missing mother, Annie stayed with Natalya Mikhailovna. She had to quit work for a time, but Mikhail’s earnings kept them comfortable. The DNA test showed Annie wasn’t his, but by then both had grown too attached to let her go. They chose to raise her as one of their own; in Milena’s absence, parental rights were revoked. It took months for Natalya to become Annie’s legal guardian—there were endless hurdles, and even then, only she, not Mikhail, was granted custody. She returned to work, found Annie a nursery, and settled into this new life. A year later, Mikhail returned from sea—with a wife. “Mum, this is Sonia. We’re going to live together.” “And what about—” Natalya faltered, glancing at Annie’s room, unsure if Misha had informed his bride. But Sonia smiled warmly: “So pleased to meet you, Mrs. Mikhailovna! Misha’s told me everything, and honestly, I admire you so much! If you’ll let me help raise Annie, I’d be honoured—” she glanced at her husband. “Yes, I plan to finish with sailing, and Sonia and I will adopt Annie together. No one can refuse now!” Natalya Mikhailovna beamed with joy: “Oh, my goodness, I’m so happy! Come in, come in—there’s so much food—I cooked for days! Let’s all get to know each other. I’ve never been happier!” She wiped away a tear. The Long-Awaited Granddaughter
A Long-Awaited Granddaughter For two restless days now, I havent been able to sleepafter everything my
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You Don’t Need a Wife, You Need a Housekeeper
You need a housekeeper, not a wife Mum, Daisys chewed my pencil again! Rebecca charged into the kitchen
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I Promise to Love Your Son as My Own. Rest in Peace…
I promise to love your son as if he were my own. Rest in peace Harry Hart was a man who seemed to have it all.
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As Long As There’s Life, It’s Never Too Late: A Heartfelt English Story of Family, Second Chances, and Rediscovering Happiness
While theres life, its never too late. A Story Well then, Mum, just as we agreed, Ill come by tomorrow
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I’m 45 and I No Longer Host Guests in My Home: Why I Swapped Stressful House Parties for Celebrating Birthdays in Restaurants and Finally Put My Own Comfort First
Im 45 years old, and I no longer entertain guests in my home. Some people simply forget theyre guests
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This Is Not Your Home Alena gazed sadly around at the house where she’d grown up since childhood. At eighteen, she already felt utterly disappointed with life. Why was fate so cruel? Her beloved grandmother had died; she hadn’t been able to get into university, all because of a girl who’d sat at the next desk during exams, copied her answers, and then whispered something to the examiner when she handed in her paper first. The examiner frowned, demanded to see Alena’s answers, and then announced she was being expelled from the exam for cheating. She couldn’t prove her innocence. As it turned out, that clever girl was the daughter of a local bigwig. How could you ever hope to compete with someone like that? Now, after so many setbacks, her mother had suddenly reappeared—along with two half-brothers and a new man in tow. Where on earth had they been all these years? It had been her grandmother who’d raised Alena, her mother leaving when Alena was only four. And there were no fond memories from those early years—her mother used to abandon her alone while she went out for fun. Even when married, her mother was always looking for a “worthy man,” never hiding it, not before and not after Alena’s father’s sudden death. Left a widow, Tamara hadn’t mourned long. She packed her things, left her little daughter on her own mother’s doorstep, sold the flat she’d inherited from Alena’s father, and vanished. Her grandmother Raya had pleaded with her to behave like a proper mother, but it was no use. Tamara showed up occasionally, but she was never really interested in Alena. At one point, she visited when Alena was twelve, bringing a seven-year-old Svyatoslav with her, demanding that her mother sign over the house. “No, Toma! You’re not getting a thing!” her mother refused flatly. “Suit yourself—the place will be mine as soon as you die!” Tamara spat back, glaring at her daughter and bundling up Svyatoslav before slamming the door. “Why do you always have to quarrel when she visits?” Alena asked her grandmother. “Your mother’s nothing but a selfish woman! I obviously went wrong somewhere raising her! Should have tanned her hide more often!” Grandma Raisa Petrovna replied bitterly. Her grandmother’s illness came suddenly. She’d never complained before, but one day when Alena got home from school, she found her always-busy grandmother pale and sitting in a chair on the balcony—something Alena had never seen her do. “Is something wrong?” Alena asked nervously. “I’m not feeling well… Call an ambulance, Alyonushka…” her grandmother replied calmly. Hospital. Drips. Then—death. Raisa Petrovna spent her last days in intensive care, where visitors weren’t allowed. Consumed by fear, Alena desperately tried to reach her mother. Initially, Tamara refused to come, only relenting when she learned her mother was in intensive care. She arrived in time only for the funeral. Three days after, Tamara thrust a will under her daughter’s nose: “This house now belongs to me and my sons! Oleg will be here soon. I know you don’t get along with him, so you’ll stay with Aunt Gala for a while, alright?” There was no hint of grief in her voice—in fact, she seemed positively cheerful now that Raisa Petrovna was gone, and she was the sole heir! Crushed by grief, Alena couldn’t stand up to her mother. The will spelled everything out clearly, so she ended up living with her father’s sister, Aunt Gala—a flighty woman with a non-stop stream of rowdy, half-drunk visitors. Alena couldn’t abide it, especially when some men started showing her unwanted attention. She confided in her boyfriend, Pasha, who responded in a way that both surprised and delighted her: “No way am I letting strange old men gawk at you or lay a finger on you!” he said, adding firmly, “I’m going to talk to my dad today. We have a one-bedroom flat on the edge of town. My father promised I could live there once I started uni. I kept my word, and now it’s his turn.” “I don’t quite see what that’s got to do with me…” Alena replied, confused. “What do you mean? We’ll live there together!” “Do you really think your parents will agree to that?” “They’ll have no choice! Consider this my official proposal: will you be my wife and live with me in that flat?” Alena nearly cried from joy. “Of course I will!” Her aunt was delighted at the news, but her mother was furious: “So you’re getting married now, are you? Just look at you! Couldn’t get into university, so you’re taking the easy way out! I won’t give you a penny, just so you know! And this house is mine—you’re not getting anything!” Her mother’s words hurt deeply. Pavel could barely get the story from her between sobs. He took her home, where his parents comforted her and brewed tea. Andrei Semyonovich listened attentively to his future daughter-in-law, shaken by the sheer number of misfortunes she’d suffered—more than most people do in a lifetime. “My poor girl! What kind of woman is she, your mother!” Pavel’s mum exclaimed after hearing about Tamara’s cruel words. “I’m interested in something else…” Andrei Semyonovich mused. “Why is she so fixated on the house, if there’s a will—and why does she keep using it against you?” “I don’t know…” Alena sobbed. “She’d always argued about the house with Grandma, always wanting to sell it or get Grandma to sign it over. But Grandma said if she did, we’d both end up out on the street.” “Curious. Tell me, did you see a notary after your grandmother’s death?” “No, why would I?” Alena asked, surprised. “To declare your inheritance rights.” “But my mother’s the heir, I’m just the granddaughter. Besides, Mum showed me the will. I saw it myself.” “It’s always more complicated,” Andrei Semyonovich replied. “We’ll visit a notary after the weekend. For now, you need some rest!” During that time, Alena had a run-in with her mother. Tamara brought documents and tried to make her sign them, but Pavel intervened: “She won’t be signing anything!” “And who are you, anyway? She’s an adult, she can make her own decisions!” Tamara snapped. “I’m her fiancé, and I think these papers could harm her. So nothing gets signed, not yet.” Tamara exploded with insults, but she left empty-handed—and Andrei Semyonovich’s suspicions grew. A few days later, as promised, he went to the notary with Alena. “Listen to everything he says and check all documents before you sign!” he advised. The notary was ethical. He accepted her application, and the next day informed them that Alena had an open inheritance case. Unbeknownst to her, her grandmother had set up a savings account to pay for Alena’s education. “What about the house?” Andrei Semyonovich asked. “The house was long ago deeded to the girl as a gift. There are no other documents.” “A deed of gift?” Alena was shocked. “Yes—your grandmother arranged it years ago. Now that you’re eighteen, you’re the legal owner and free to do as you wish.” “And the will?” “It was drafted seven years ago, but then revoked. Your mother probably doesn’t know about that. The house is yours—no one can take it from you.” Andrei Semyonovich’s fears were confirmed. “So, what now?” Alena asked anxiously as they left the office. “Now you tell your mother the house is yours, and she has to move out.” “She’ll never agree! She’s already packed my things to kick me out!” “That’s what the police are for!” When Alena delivered the news, Tamara went ballistic. “You ungrateful wretch! You plan to throw your own mother out? You’d better go yourself! You think I believe your lies? Who’s putting this nonsense in your head—your fiancé and his father? Well, birds of a feather! I have a document proving this house is mine! The will says I’m the sole heir!” “That’s right! So get out, or I’ll break your legs for you!” Oleg snarled, joining in. But Andrei Semyonovich stood his ground. “Sir, for threats and disorderly conduct, the police might get involved,” he warned politely but firmly. “Who do you think you are? Get out! The house is for sale, and buyers are coming soon!” But it wasn’t buyers that showed up—it was the police. After reviewing the situation, they ordered Tamara and her brood to vacate immediately, warning of criminal liability if they resisted. Furious, Tamara, her husband, and her sons had no choice but to leave. At last, Alena went back to her home. Pavel moved in too, not wanting to leave her vulnerable. He was right—Tamara and Oleg harassed her for some time, especially after learning of the savings account. Tamara made a claim, winning part of the money, but got nowhere with the house. After seeking every legal opinion, she finally gave up for good and moved away. Alena never spoke to her again. Alena and Pavel married. The following summer, she began university in her chosen field; by her third year, she’d had her first child. She remained grateful to her husband and his family for their unwavering support, and lived out her life in happiness. Author: Odetta — — Enigma The old house was well-kept despite its years—never left empty long enough to go wild or fall apart. “Thank goodness!” thought Masha. “There’s no man in my life these days, and there probably won’t be. And I’m certainly not one of those hardy English women who can do anything—hammer in nails, rein in horses, or charge into burning farmhouses!” She climbed up on the porch, pulled a heavy key from her handbag, and unlocked the massive old padlock. *** Strangely, this house had been left to Masha by Granny Lyuba, an elderly relative she barely knew. Odd, but who can say what goes on in the minds of the very elderly? By Masha’s reckoning, Granny Lyuba must have been a hundred. Masha was either her great-niece or second cousin, she couldn’t quite remember, but to her Granny Lyuba was just “our sewing and cooking granny.” She’d visited only in her youth—Granny Lyuba was already a senior then, always preferring to live alone, never asking her family for help. But recently, she’d quietly passed away. When Masha got the call about her grandmother’s passing in the village of Enigma, it took her a moment to realize it was Granny Lyuba. She certainly hadn’t expected to inherit a house and twelve acres of land. “A little nest egg for your retirement!” joked her husband, Michael. “Ha! Retirement’s years away—by the time I make it, they’ll probably push the age up again,” Masha replied. “For now, it’s just a gift. Though I can’t fathom what I did to deserve it… I didn’t even know Granny Lyuba was still alive! I thought she was long gone. But hey, far be it from me to complain about a gift.” “Or we could just sell it!” Michael had rubbed his hands gleefully. *** As it turned out, not selling it was a wise decision. Only a few months after Masha became a landowner, another surprise awaited her—one far less pleasant than inheriting property. She discovered her beloved Michael was having an affair. Yes, at this stage in life! Grey hair, midlife mischief…
This Is Not Your Home Emily gazes around the house shes known since childhood, her heart heavy.
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“We’ll Be Staying with You for a While—We Can’t Afford Our Own Place!” My Friend Announced. I’m a Lively 65-Year-Old Who Loves Travelling and Meeting Interesting People, But When My Old Holiday Friend Sara and Her Whole Family Turned Up on My Doorstep, My Kindness Was Stretched to the Limit – They Ate My Food, Made Themselves at Home, and Even Left with My Dressing Gown and a Pot of Cabbage! That Was the End of Our Friendship.
Well be staying at your place for a bit we cant afford to rent our own flat! announced my friend, as
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