When my boots gave out during one of the harshest winters in years, I thought my husband, Greg, would step up and buy me new ones. Instead, he prioritized a gift for his mom over my basic needs. But I wasn’t going to take his disrespect sitting down…and both he and his mother were in for a surprise.Becoming a stay-at-home mother had been my dream since I was a little girl, and I never changed my mind, despite how different my female friends and family envisioned their lives.A woman cooking in her kithchen | Source: GeminiWhen I met a man, Greg, who loved the idea of a housewife, I thought we were perfect for each other. But it wouldn’t take long before I realized why women had fought to become at least a little more independent. It all happened during the worst winter our town in Michigan had seen in years. I was 34, and I was happy with my life. I took care of the house and our two kids and I tended to my husband. Greg had a fantastic job in tech that more than paid for our lives.A man working in an office | Source: GeminiAll this to say that we were never struggling with one income. We were more than privileged. Anyway, this winter hit harder than usual and after years of serious use, my boots were in bad shape. The soles had cracked, which caused icy water to leak inside with every step. I tried my best to find solutions, like using double socks. But it was fruitless. I also tried to ignore the problem, but my feet were freezing most of the time. Old, worn winter boots | Source: GeminiOne day, I tried taking my kids, Caleb (6) and Lily (4) to the park, but it was much too cold for any real enjoyment. We hadn’t been out that long, and my feet were protesting. After taking off my shoes, I began worrying about future outings, and how I may not be able to come back home immediately.So, I decided enough was enough. It was time to get new boots. That night, I approached Greg while he was scrolling through his phone.”Hey, honey,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I need new boots. My old ones are done for. Look at this.” I held up the sad excuse for boots.A woman holding worn winter boots | Source: GeminiGreg glanced up, unimpressed. “Can’t it wait until after Christmas? My mom needs a microwave, and it’s not cheap.”I frowned. “A microwave? That’s a little random. Honey, my boots are falling apart, and the forecast says snow will only get worse. I can’t even walk outside without my feet getting soaked. I really need new ones.””You’re exaggerating,” he said, shaking his head.A man looking while holding his phone in bed | Source: GeminiI laughed humorlessly. “I’m really not. We can easily afford the microwave and the boots, right?””I already said no, Lauren. And… I decide how MY money is spent,” Greg snapped, looking at me with raised eyebrows before staring back down at his phone.Those words hit me harder than any icy wind ever could. I wasn’t asking for diamonds. I was asking for basic winter boots to, you know, not freeze. Good boots could be expensive, but they were investments in the future. New boots in a store | Source: GeminiHowever, his mom’s new microwave came first, and it was the only thing he wanted to buy. I had no words for my husband that night, so I just went to sleep.The next morning, as I walked Caleb to school, I nearly slipped on a patch of ice. He looked up at me and back down at my feet, concerned. “Mommy, your shoes are broken. Why don’t you get new ones?” he asked in the most obvious and innocent tone.His question broke me, but I forced a tight smile. “Because Daddy said no,” I replied, trying not to choke.A woman crying outdoors | Source: GeminiCaleb frowned. “But your feet are cold. Doesn’t Daddy know?””Honey, let’s talk about this later. You’ll be late,” I said, pushing him to his preschool. He forgot his question as soon as he saw his friends and ran inside.I waved him away and turned quickly, so he wouldn’t see me breaking down. Even my son cared more than my husband.A woman crying outside in the snow | Source: GeminiChristmas was just around the corner, and Greg was going on and on about the microwave he’d bought for his mom. “Top of the line. Smart. Connects to the internet,” he’d bragged. “She’s going to love it.”That’s when it hit me: if Greg wanted to prioritize his mom’s microwave over my boots, maybe he needed a little reality check. While he was at work and the kids were at my mom’s for the weekend, I made my move. I carefully unpacked the microwave, placed my worn-out boots in its box, and wrapped it back up in the same shiny paper Greg had used. I even added a glittery bow for effect.A pair of winter boots in a box | Source: GeminiChristmas morning arrived, and Greg’s mom, Sharon, made her grand entrance at our house, draped in her fur coat and reeking of Chanel No. 5. Her presence here was a tradition she and Greg had started when he and I had moved into this house. Sharon preferred a private gift exchange before the big Christmas dinner at her much bigger home later that night.I always suspected it might be because she wanted to give Greg time to find her something else if she didn’t like his original choice. But I could never prove it.An elegant older woman with a gift in her hands | Source: GeminiAnyway, he handed her the big box with a proud smile as soon as they sat on the couch. “Here you go, Mom. Merry Christmas!”Sharon tore into the wrapping like a kid opening the biggest present under the tree. But when she pulled out my old, battered boots, her face twisted in horror.”What on earth is this?” she screeched, holding up them like they were a dead animal.Greg’s jaw hit the floor. “What the hell, Lauren? Where’s the microwave?”An angry man | Source: GeminiI sipped my coffee from my armchair, unbothered. “Oh, I decided to sell it and repurpose the money for something more practical.”Greg turned red as he stood. “You embarrassed me in front of my mom! What were you thinking?”I stood, too, and looked him straight in the eye. “I was thinking about how I’ve been walking around with frozen toes while you play Santa for someone who doesn’t even need a new microwave.” I turned to Sharon, who was still clutching the boots like they might attack her. “Maybe you should try walking a mile in my shoes. Literally.”An angry woman | Source: GeminiSharon sputtered. “I don’t know what kind of stunt you’re pulling, Lauren, but this is completely inappropriate. This is my gift from my son.””Well, your son is prioritizing your whims over his wife’s basic safety,” I shot back and crossed my arms.The room was silent after my statement. Greg and I were stuck in a staring match, and neither of us was backing down. His face, though, showed he was furious.A couple angry at each other | Source: GeminiSharon left shortly after mumbling a weak apology and telling us she’d see us tonight. When the door closed, my husband huffed and puffed, and left our house, too.After the door closed, I breathed a huge sigh as my hands trembled. That had been rough and ugly. I also felt a little guilty for ruining their Christmas gift exchange, but it needed to happen.A woman with a hand on her chest | Source: GeminiAlso, I hadn’t truly sold her microwave. It was just hidden beneath the kitchen sink. I planned to bring it to Sharon’s gathering later. I just didn’t know how welcome I’d be.You can imagine my shock when I got to Sharon’s house with the kids, and I saw Greg sitting on her sofa, looking guilty. I immediately realized word of the “boot incident” had spread when Doreen, Greg’s sister, ran to hug me.A woman running happily indoors | Source: Gemini”Good for you, girl!” she whispered in my ear. “I couldn’t believe the story when Mom told me, but I chastised her and then, him, especially when he arrived here alone.”I hugged her back. “Does the rest of the family know?”She pulled back and smiled brightly. “Mom took my words to heart and told everyone as soon as they arrived. They’ve all given my brother a piece of their minds. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life!” she added.A woman laughing | Source: GeminiI chuckled nervously and greeted everyone happily.The rest of the dinner was fantastic, but Greg was quiet and avoided my eyes. This was especially true when his uncle made a joke about boots, causing the whole table to giggle.By the end of the night, I gave Sharon her real gift from Greg. After hugging me, she apologized on her and her son’s behalf. She hoped I wouldn’t hold this incident against her because she was working on her materialistic ways.An older woman holding a microwave | Source: GeminiI forgave her, and she sent me and the kids home with most of the delicious leftovers.Greg avoided me and drove himself home. I was disappointed he hadn’t learned his lesson as quickly as his mother.A few days later, I sold some unused items online and combined that money with the cash I got from Christmas cards. I walked into a store a day after and bought myself a pair of beautiful, warm winter boots. They should last me at least three years.A woman looking a new winter boots | Source: GeminiWhen I arrived home hours later, Greg was standing in the middle of the living room. His face darkened when he saw my new boots.”Where’d you get the money for those?”I smiled, slipping the boots off with deliberate slowness. “Oh, I decided how MY money is spent. Do you have a problem with that?”Greg’s face twisted before he sighed. “Yes… well, no. It’s just that…” he trailed off.A man pointing and looking upset | Source: GeminiHe leaned down and retrieved a gift box from under the tree. It hadn’t been there this morning. “I went out and bought this,” he shrugged. “It took me a while, and my pride got in the way, but I was wrong, baby. Can you forgive me?”My husband offered the gift box, and I took it, trying to hide my excitement. I knew what would be inside: a pair of new winter boots, which were much more expensive than the ones I’d bought.A pair of new winter boots | Source: GeminiI chuckled and hugged Greg. Yes, I forgave him. And I think I fell in love with him more that winter. Because he started treating me like when we first fell in love.Yet, I insisted on starting my own bank account, and a side home business, so I could make my own money. I wasn’t going to stop being a stay-at-home mom or housewife. But a little more independence was just what the doctor ordered.A woman using a computer while two kids sit in a sofa in the background | Source: GeminiAnd my husband was supportive. That’s all I wanted!Here’s another story: When Sasha gets home from work one day, she finds a Photoshopped image of herself stuck to the fridge. Trying to understand why her husband wants her to be someone she’s not, Sasha goes through the motions of self-doubt. But then she decides she won’t let Ryan get away with it that easily.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.

As a single dad juggling work and two young daughters, Jack never expected to find a stranger’s homemade pancakes on his kitchen table one morning. When he discovers the mysterious benefactor, her shocking story of hardship and gratitude changes his life forever, forging an unexpected bond between them.Jack and his two daughters | Source: MidjourneyBeing a single dad to two little girls, Emma, who was 4, and Lily, who was 5, was the hardest job I ever had. My wife left us to travel the world, and now it was just me and the girls. I loved them more than anything, but balancing work, cooking, and taking care of everything at home left me exhausted.Every morning, I woke up early. First, I would wake the girls.That morning was no different. “Emma, Lily, time to get up!” I called softly, opening their bedroom door.Emma and Lily asleep | Source: MidjourneyLily rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Good morning, Daddy,” she said, yawning.Emma, still half asleep, mumbled, “I don’t want to get up.”I smiled. “Come on, sweetie. We have to get ready for daycare.”I helped them get dressed. Lily picked her favorite dress, the one with the flowers, while Emma chose her pink shirt and jeans. Once they were dressed, we all headed downstairs.Jake dresses Lily | Source: MidjourneyI went to the kitchen to make breakfast. The plan was simple: oatmeal with milk. But when I entered the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks. There, on the table, were three plates of freshly made pancakes with jam and fruit.”Girls, did you see this?” I asked, puzzled.Lily’s eyes widened. “Wow, pancakes! Did you make them, Daddy?”A plate of pancakes | Source: MidjourneyI shook my head. “No, I didn’t. Maybe Aunt Sarah stopped by early.”I picked up my phone and called my sister, Sarah.”Hey, Sarah, did you come by this morning?” I asked as soon as she picked up.”No, why?” Sarah sounded confused.Woman talks on her phone | Source: Pexels”Never mind, it’s nothing,” I said, hanging up. I checked the doors and windows, but everything was locked. There was no sign of anyone breaking in.”Is it safe to eat, Daddy?” Emma asked, looking at the pancakes with big eyes.I decided to taste them first. They were delicious and seemed perfectly fine. “I think it’s okay. Let’s eat,” I said.Emma and Lily wait to eat the pancakes | Source: MidjourneyThe girls cheered and dug into their breakfast. I couldn’t stop thinking about who could have made the pancakes. It was strange, but I decided to let it go for now. I had to get to work.After breakfast, I dropped Emma and Lily off at daycare. “Have a good day, my loves,” I said, kissing them goodbye.At work, I couldn’t focus. My mind kept going back to the mysterious pancakes. Who could have done it? Why? When I returned home that evening, I got another surprise. The lawn, which I hadn’t had time to mow, was neatly cut.A neatly cut lawn | Source: MidjourneyI stood in my yard, scratching my head. “This is getting weird,” I muttered to myself. I checked the house again, but everything was in order.The next morning, I decided to find out who was helping me. I got up earlier than usual and hid in the kitchen, peeking through a small gap in the door. At 6 a.m., I saw a woman climb in through the window.A strange woman in the kitchen | Source: MidjourneyShe was wearing old postal worker clothes. I watched as she started washing the dishes from the night before. She then pulled out some cottage cheese from her bag and began making pancakes.My stomach growled loudly. The woman turned around, startled. She quickly turned off the gas and ran towards the window.The startled woman | Source: Midjourney”Wait, please, I won’t harm you,” I said, stepping out of my hiding spot. “You made those pancakes, right? Please, tell me why you’re doing this. Don’t be afraid of me, I’m the father of the girls and would never harm a woman, especially when you’ve helped me so much.”The woman stopped and slowly turned to face me. I saw her face and thought she looked familiar, but I couldn’t place where I knew her from.”We’ve met before, haven’t we?” I asked, confused.Confused man in a suit | Source: PexelsThe woman nodded, but before she could speak, Emma and Lily’s voices came from upstairs, “Daddy, where are you?”I glanced towards the stairs, then back at the woman. “Let’s sit and talk. I’ll get my girls. Please, don’t go,” I pleaded.The woman hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said quietly.The stranger sits at the table | Source: MidjourneyI smiled in relief, then hurried upstairs to get Emma and Lily. “Come on, girls, we have a surprise guest downstairs,” I said.They followed me down, curious. When we entered the kitchen, the woman stood by the window, looking unsure and ready to bolt.”Please, don’t leave,” I said gently. “I just want to talk and thank you.”Jake stops the woman | Source: MidjourneyEmma and Lily looked at her with wide eyes. “Who is she, Daddy?” Lily asked.”Let’s find out together,” I replied. Turning to the woman, I added, “Please, sit down. Can I get you some coffee?”She hesitated but then nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said softly.The woman sits at the table | Source: MidjourneyWe all sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m Jack,” I started, “and these are my daughters, Emma and Lily. You’ve been helping us, and I want to know why.”The woman took a deep breath. “My name is Claire,” she began. “Two months ago, you helped me when I was in a very bad place.”I frowned, trying to recall. “Helped you? How?”A man tries to remember something | Source: PexelsShe continued, “I was lying by the road, weak and desperate. Everyone passed by, but you stopped. You took me to a charity hospital. I was severely dehydrated and could have died. When I woke up, you were gone, but I convinced the parking guard to tell me your car number. I found out where you lived and decided to thank you.”Recognition dawned on me. “I remember now. You were in terrible shape. I couldn’t just leave you there.”The woman when she was seen by Jake | Source: MidjourneyClaire nodded, her eyes moist. “Your kindness saved me. My ex-husband tricked me, brought me from Britain to America, took everything, and left me on the street. I had nothing and no one to turn to.”Emma and Lily listened intently, their small faces filled with concern. “That’s so sad,” Emma said, her voice barely a whisper.”But why are you here?” I asked, still puzzled.Confused man | Source: PexelsClaire explained, “Your help gave me the strength to keep going. I went to the embassy and told them my story. They helped me get new documents and connected me with a lawyer to fight for my son. I got a job as a postal worker. But I wanted to repay you, to show my gratitude. I saw how tired you looked when you came home every day, so I decided to help you with small things.”I was touched by her story. “Claire, I appreciate what you’ve done, but you can’t just break into our home. It’s not safe, and it scared me.”A serious man | Source: PexelsShe nodded, looking ashamed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wanted to help.”Emma reached out and touched Claire’s hand. “Thank you for making pancakes. They were yummy.”Claire smiled, tears in her eyes. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”Claire smiles | Source: MidjourneyI took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief, curiosity, and empathy. “Claire, let’s do this differently. No more sneaking in, okay? How about you join us for breakfast now and then? We can get to know each other better.”Her face lit up with a hopeful smile. “I’d like that, Jack. Thank you.”A smiling man with folded arms | Source: PexelsWe spent the rest of the morning talking and eating the pancakes she made. Claire told us more about her son and her plans to reunite with him. I realized how much strength and determination she had.As we finished breakfast, I felt a sense of new beginnings. Claire’s gratitude and our mutual support created a bond. She had found a way to repay my kindness, and in turn, I wanted to help her reunite with her son.Family breakfast | Source: PexelsEmma and Lily seemed to adore her already, and I felt a glimmer of hope for the future. “This could be the start of something good for all of us,” I thought.”Thank you for sharing your story, Claire,” I said as we cleaned up together. “Let’s help each other from now on.”She nodded, smiling. “I’d like that very much, Jack. Thank you.”A smiling woman | Source: PexelsAnd so, a new chapter began for both our families, filled with hope and mutual support.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.

My roommate returned from a luxurious vacation with an insane demand: she wanted a refund of her rent since she hadn’t “used” her room for two weeks. Oh, I paid her some money alright, but it wasn’t what she was expecting.Hi, I’m Felicity. At 24, I was just trying to navigate life in an overpriced city with my roommate, Ashley. Sharing rent wasn’t just about friendship. It was all about survival. Most people couldn’t afford to live that area on their own.A woman in a city | Source: MidjourneySo, Ashley and I struck a deal. We also always split things down the middle, and for a while, it worked out fine. That is, until she came back from a two-week vacation and decided the rules no longer applied to her.Let me explain a bit more about her. Ashley is definitely a “Keeping Up with the Joneses” kind of person. She would rather drown in debt than not have the latest things or go to the trendiest places.A woman using her credit card in a store | Source: MidjourneyFor the most part, I didn’t care. It was her life. As long as her part of the rent came on time, her choices didn’t matter to me. But one time, her friends, most of whom had extremely rich parents, invited her on a vacation. They went to a beach resort and enjoyed all the luxuries they wanted. I saw the proof on Instagram. In my experience, rich people expect others to be rich too. You would think they’d treat their friends, but that’s not the case most of the time. A pool in a resort | Source: MidjourneyAlso, Ashley was paying for herself and had too much pride to say she couldn’t afford stuff. That’s one of her many issues. But again, it was her life. These choices didn’t affect me until she returned from the trip.As soon as she left her luggage in her room, she came out to the living room and bombarded me with stories about the dishes they ate, the places they saw, the men they flirted with, and the shopping they did. I nodded along as best as I could before she went to sleep.A woman at a beach resort, laughing | Source: MidjourneyBut the following morning, while drinking coffee, she dropped a bomb on me.”You know,” she said, biting her bottom lip, “since I wasn’t here for two weeks, I think it’s fair if you refund me for half of my rent for this month.”At first, I cackled. “Good one, Ashley. You almost got me there,” I wheezed out.But she didn’t laugh back. Instead, she gave me one of those “I’m serious” looks she usually reserves for when Starbucks messes up her caramel drizzle ratio.A woman in an apartment talking to another who can’t be seen | Source: Midjourney”Think about it, Felicity. I wasn’t here, so I wasn’t using the apartment or the utilities. Why should I pay for something I didn’t use?” she asked and smiled as if her logic was bulletproof.I blinked. “What are you even talking about? This isn’t like, a hotel where you only pay for the nights you stay. Rent doesn’t work that way. Also, you left your stuff here.”She shrugged. “That doesn’t matter. I wasn’t here, and you had the apartment to yourself. So, a refund is more than fair.”A woman in an apartment talking to another who can’t be seen | Source: MidjourneyShe kept going, and each word out of her mouth sounded more entitled than the previous one. I knew why she was doing this, truly. it wasn’t because she actually thought her argument made sense, but because her credit cards were probably all maxed out after that ridiculous trip. She needed help, and this was her prideful way of trying to get it. I’m sorry, but I was not responsible for her poor financial choices, so I refused and went to my room to change for work. A woman in her room | Source: MidjourneyBut I should’ve known Ashley wasn’t done.Over the next few days, she decided to launch what I now refer to as the Great Post-it Campaign. Everywhere I turned, little neon notes were reminding me of what I “owed” her.”Rent Refund: $450,” one stuck to the fridge said. “Fair is fair!” another chirped from the bathroom mirror, and her snark didn’t stop there. She’d huff dramatically whenever we passed in the hall, muttering things like, “Some people have no integrity,” or, “Must be nice to pay half the rent and live alone.”A woman with arms crossed | Source: MidjourneyWhen those hints didn’t work, she started slamming doors and plates. Making more noise than usual. All to get me to break. But I wasn’t going to, though she had me wondering if it might be time to move in with someone else.Anyway, Saturday came, and I thought I’d have to be locked up in my room to avoid more of her antics. But Ashley came out of her room, dressed to the nines, and left for the afternoon. She was definitely going to see her rich friends.A woman dressed to go out | Source: MidjourneyAnd the moment the door closed behind her, inspiration struck. If Ashley wanted to play games, I’d show her how it’s done.I grabbed my phone and called Lila, my best friend since high school. She didn’t live in the city, but she was a two-hour train ride away.”Hey, what are you up to?” I asked.”Not much, just plotting world domination. Why?” she quipped. A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney”Well, you might love this. Do you want to stay in the city for a few days? I’ve got a great and cheap room you can use,” I started, giggling, and when prodded, I explained my real intentions.Lila laughed and was on board before I even finished. “This is genius!” she said. “See you in two hours!” I just hoped Ashley wouldn’t return early.A woman smiling while using her phone | Source: MidjourneyI was lucky. Lila arrived, and there was still no sign of Ashley, so we went to work with my… I guess, you could call it petty revenge.We boxed up Ashley’s stuff and placed them in my living room. Then we set up Lila’s “new” living situation. We brought in her suitcase, threw a throw blanket over the bed, and even added a “Welcome, Lila!” note on the dresser.Boxes in a living room | Source: MidjourneyIt was like we were playing Airbnb. When we were done, we settled and waited for Ashley to get home. She arrived late that night, loudly jangling her keys as she closed our door, and called out, “Felicity, we need to talk!””Oh, hey!” I called back from the couch, trying to sound casual. “Listen, I found a new solution for our little issue.”There was a pause, then a confused, “What?”A woman looking confused | Source: MidjourneyI stood from the couch and explained things, all matter-of-factly. “Well, I’ve finally understood the logic about your room.””Finally! I knew you wou—”But I interrupted her before she could go on. “I’ve also noticed that sometimes, particularly during the weekends, you leave our house for the entire day and even the entire night. So, starting today and until Tuesday night, I invited someone to stay in your room.”Her eyes widened. “What?” she asked, looking around. Her eyes zeroed in on the boxes. A second later, her heels were clicking rapidly on the floor as she stormed to her room, where Lila was casually lying on the bed. Woman walking in an apartment in heels | Source: Midjourney”Who the hell is this?” Ashley demanded. “What do you think you’re doing?!””Hi!” Lila said brightly. “I’m Lila. Thanks for letting me ‘rent’ this place! It’s nice to come to the city every once in a while without spending so much.”Ashley spun toward me, her voice climbing to a pitch only dogs could hear. “What is this?!” she screeched.An angry woman | Source: Midjourney”I told you already,” I said innocently. “You don’t use your room on the weekends, so I’ll be renting it out from now on. This is the perfect compromise now that you’ve established the ground rules about rent and usage.” Ashley’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. “That’s not— I didn’t say— You can’t do this!” she shrieked some more.”Why not?” I asked, crossing my arms. “I’m using your logic. I can’t afford this place without your share, so I have to find temporary roommates for the days you’ll be away to comply with your logic.”A woman smiling with arms crossed | Source: Midjourney”THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT! THIS IS DIFFERENT!” she insisted, stomping her foot.”Is it, though?” Lila chimed in, plopping onto the bed. “Feels the same to me.”I pulled a $100 bill out of my pocket. “And look, Lila has already paid for her entire stay. I calculated it correctly. Well, I rounded it up a bit. I won’t refund you for the two weeks you were away on vacation because we hadn’t talked about ‘the ground rules,’ but we won’t have an issue from now on.”A woman taking money out of her pocket | Source: MidjourneyThe money was really mine, but Ashley didn’t need to know that. She stared at the bill in silence while her face turned redder and redder. After a second, she took it right out of my hand and turned away from me.”I’m calling the landlord,” she snapped on her way out of the door.Lila and I flew into a fit of giggles when she was gone. That scene was more than worth the $100 I’d just lost.A woman laughing in a bed | Source: MidjourneyObviously, Ashley didn’t call the landlord. Instead, she sulked and was in and out of the apartment for the rest of the weekend while Lila enjoyed her “staycation.” Lila left that Tuesday night, and Ashley returned fully. She put her things back inside her room, and later, I noticed a lock on her door. She ignored me mostly, but the huffing and puffing was gone. The Post-Its didn’t return, and the noise disappeared.A locked door | Source: MidjourneyAlso, there were no more discussions about a refund, and the next month’s rent came right on time. But I saw that she barely bought groceries for herself and was home most of the time. I wasn’t a monster, so I cooked double the amount I needed for dinner and offered her some every night. She would mutter her thanks. Slowly, things went back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be with Ashley. She hadn’t changed. She was just maxed out, and no one was bailing her out of her poor choices.A woman in pajamas, eating popcorn | Source: MidjourneyIt wasn’t long before I started looking for a new job. The city was nice, but it was insane that I couldn’t afford to live on my own. When I got an offer in Lila’s town, I jumped at the chance. But I’ll always remember the time I out-pettied the pettiest person I knew. It’s a good story to tell at parties.A woman at a party | Source: MidjourneyHere’s another story: When Sandra’s daughter, Abigail, calls her, she hears all about how Abby’s living situation is making her anything but happy. So, she decides to get into mom-mode and save the day for her daughter and her friends.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.