When Liam throws a surprise birthday party for his wife, Lora, he gets the biggest shock when she brings over an uninvited guest—a man who’s been absent from Lora’s life for years. Why was he there and what did he want?
My wife loves surprises. Every year for her birthday or Valentine’s Day, I try to surprise her because I know how much it means to her. Her eyes light up like a child’s, making every special occasion an opportunity for something extraordinary.
A blindfolded young woman | Source: Midjourney
“I love how well you know me, Liam,” she would say. “You always get it right!”
“You’re worth it all, Lora,” I said.
So, this year, for her birthday, I planned a surprise that I hoped would be unforgettable. Pretending to be away on a business trip, I called her the day before her birthday to say that I’d be home late.
A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“You’re not coming back tomorrow?” Lora’s voice carried disappointment that broke my heart.
“I’m so sorry, love,” I said, laying on the regret. “Work got hectic, but I’ll make it up to you. How about a spa weekend when I’m back?”
There was a pause then Lora let out a resigned sigh.
A smiling couple at a spa | Source: Midjourney
“Fine, but you owe me big time, Liam,” she said in a huff.
“Oh, darling, you’re going to love it,” I assured her, smiling at the thought of her reaction to the real surprise.
As soon as I hung up, I swung into action, calling our close friends and relatives to invite them to a surprise party at our apartment.
A man holding a tablet | Source: Midjourney
I’d been planning it for a while, but I just needed to remind everyone.
“Yes, of course, Liam!”
“We’ll be there!”
“I’ll bring wine!”
An excited person on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Everyone was in on it, and the place buzzed with excitement as we decorated, set up food, and waited for Lora’s arrival.
“Do you think she’ll suspect anything?” asked Karen, her best friend, as she hung the streamers.
“No way,” I replied confidently. “She thinks I’m out of town until tomorrow.”
A woman hanging streamers | Source: Midjourney
Finally, we heard footsteps in the hallway and the sound of her laughter. I frowned, puzzled.
“Who could she be with?” I asked Karen. “If it’s not you or me, then it’s very strange…”
“Maybe her sisters?” Karen asked.
A frowning man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney
“No, they’re going to be here. They did say that they’d be a bit late because they’re going to pick up Lora’s present.”
The door opened, and as Lora stepped in, we all jumped out.
“Surprise!” we shouted.
People at a surprise party | Source: Midjourney
But the joy was short-lived.
Gasps filled the room as everyone stared at the man standing beside Lora. It was Michael.
Michael was Lora’s father who had recently been released from prison. The shock on everyone’s faces mirrored the shock and confusion I felt.
A group of shocked people | Source: Midjourney
Lora had never mentioned anything about her father being back in her life.
“Look, he’s in prison, Liam,” she told me when we spoke about her father one night over dinner. “That’s all I have to say about it.”
“But what did he do?” I asked. “Why did he go to prison? Was it that bad?”
A couple eating together | Source: Midjourney
But Lora just shook her head and refused to answer.
Years later, Lora began speaking about it and the turmoil that Michael had caused her family. Michael had been imprisoned for embezzlement, having stolen a significant amount of money from the company where he worked.
“That ruined us, Liam,” Lora said to me in tears.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
The scandal had not only disgraced him but also brought shame and financial hardship to their family.
Now, seeing her laugh and at ease in his presence confused me. And for a moment, I felt betrayed. At that moment, I almost wished she had brought home another man.
Anything but this.
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“Lora, what’s going on?” I asked her, unable to hide the edge in my voice.
Lora, looking nervous and caught off guard by the crowd’s reaction, spoke first.
“Everyone, this is my dad, Michael. I know that most of you have heard about him, but here he is. Finally out of prison. He… he just wanted to apologize to me.”
A woman standing next to her father | Source: Midjourney
Michael, clearly uncomfortable to have an audience, took a deep breath and addressed the room.
“I know I’ve caused a lot of pain to Lora, to her mom, Nancy, and the rest of our family. But I’ve spent my years in prison working on myself. I know that when our financial issues began, I took it out on my family. I’ve been trying to overcome my trauma and stop being so aggressive. I’m truly sorry for everything.”
The room was silent. Michael’s words hung in the air. It was as if time had stopped, and everyone had held their breath to process the unexpected turn of events.
A close-up of a man talking | Source: Midjourney
“I understand if you don’t want to forgive me, but I wanted to make amends. I want to be a part of Lora’s life. Of all my children’s lives. I just started my apology tour with Lora because she’s the eldest. I’m here to show that I’ve changed.”
I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know what my thoughts were. On one hand, I believed him. There was something about his words and body language that made him genuine.
But could he change?
A pensive young man | Source: Midjourney
As he turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of Lora’s face. She looked torn and on the verge of tears. But there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
Despite everything, she wanted to give him a chance.
“Michael, wait,” I called out, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. “Stay. If Lora wants you here, then you should be here.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
Michael looked at me, stunned, then turned to Lora, who had tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Thank you, darling,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
I nodded.
“If this is what makes you happy, then I’m willing to try and make this work,” I said.
Michael, visibly moved, nodded as well.
A close-up of a smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Liam. I promise I won’t let you down,” he said.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere gradually shifted from tense to awkward to cautiously hopeful. But once the platters of food came out, everyone seemed to be calmer.
“Lora, are you sure about this?” Karen asked when we were in the kitchen getting more bottles of wine.
Lora sighed, her gaze drifting to her father.
Platters of food | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, he’s my dad, and he’s trying to make things right. I want to give him a chance,” she said.
I stood back, watching as Lora and Michael hugged, both of them in tears.
“Come on,” I said. “It’s time for the birthday cake!”
We carried out the birthday cake for Lora, and nobody sang louder than Michael, who seemed genuinely proud and happy to be there.
A birthday cake with candles | Source: Midjourney
As the party wound down, Michael stood up to address everyone.
“I want to thank you all for giving me this opportunity. I know it will take time to earn your trust. But I promise you, I am committed to making amends and being a better person and father.”
There was a hesitant round of applause, more out of politeness than genuine acceptance, but it was a start.
Later, when everyone was gone, Lora and I stood on the balcony together, taking in the final moments of her birthday.
A couple standing on a balcony | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so grateful that you welcomed my father, Liam,” she said. “I know what I said, but I think that it’s time to heal from the past. You know?”
“I know,” I agreed. “I think that Michael needs to meet the adult Lora. Not the version of you that he knew before he went to prison.”
She nodded as she held her glass of champagne.
A woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney
“And anyway, I promised to help him find a new apartment soon. Will you help me? It will be something small and simple.”
“Of course, honey,” I said, embracing her.
A small apartment | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
Businessman Loses All Hope After His Diagnosis, but One Hospital Encounter Changes Everything — Story of the Day
When a workaholic businessman receives devastating news about his health, he meets a young boy in the hospital who changes his outlook on life. Their bond grows through unexpected friendship and small acts of kindness, teaching him what truly matters—until a heartbreaking twist reshapes everything.
Andrew, 50, sat at his desk, shuffling through papers while juggling scheduling meetings with his partners.
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He didn’t hear Michael, his assistant, enter the room. Michael stood there, waiting. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.
No response. Andrew kept working, his focus sharp. Michael tried again. “Mr. Smith.” Still no answer. He repeated his name three more times.
Finally, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk and snapped, “What?”
Michael didn’t flinch. “You asked me to tell you if your ex-wife called.”
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Andrew groaned and rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? Ignore her calls. What now?”
Michael held a notepad. “She left a message. I should warn you—it’s a direct quote. Her words, not mine.” He read from the note. “‘You pompous jerk, I will never forgive you for wasting so many years of my life. If you don’t give me back my painting, I’ll smash your car.’ That’s the message.”
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Andrew’s face turned red. “We’ve been divorced for two years! Does she not have anything better to do?”
Michael looked at him, waiting for further instructions. “Should I respond to her?”
“No! And stop taking her calls,” Andrew said. Then he paused. “Actually, tell her I threw that painting in the trash!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew grabbed a pen and hurled it toward the wall. Michael ducked slightly, gave a polite nod, and left the room.
Moments later, Andrew’s phone rang. He frowned, picking it up.
“Andrew Smith?” a voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
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“This is the hospital. Your test results are ready. The doctor wants to see you.”
“Can’t you just tell me now?” Andrew said, irritated. “I’m busy.”
“Sorry, sir. The doctor will explain in person.”
Andrew sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll come in.” He hung up, shaking his head.
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Andrew rarely allowed himself the luxury of a lunch break, but this time was different. The doctor’s office was quiet, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound.
Andrew sat stiffly in a chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. When the door opened, the doctor stepped in, his face serious. Andrew frowned, sensing bad news.
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The doctor sat across from him and spoke in a steady, measured tone, using terms Andrew didn’t understand.
Then came the word—cancer. “We need to act fast,” the doctor said.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Andrew asked, his voice sharp. “I own a company. I can’t just check into a hospital.”
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The doctor met his eyes. “Your health should come first. The company can wait.”
Andrew leaned forward. “What are my chances of getting better?”
“I can’t promise anything,” the doctor said. “Starting treatment right away is critical.”
Andrew’s voice rose. “Can I still work while I’m here?”
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“Treatment affects everyone differently,” the doctor explained. “You will stay in the hospital so we can monitor you. Someone can bring you a computer.”
Andrew frowned and stood up. “Fine. I’ll sort it out.”
The doctor watched him leave. “We’ll see you tomorrow with your things,” he said before Andrew reached the door.
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As Andrew walked through the hospital’s pediatric wing, he noticed a boy, about eight years old, tossing a ball back and forth with a nurse.
The sound of their laughter echoed in the corridor. The ball suddenly rolled across the floor and stopped near Andrew’s feet.
“Excuse me, sir!” the boy called out, smiling. “Can you please throw the ball back?”
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Andrew picked up the ball, his face tense. Without a word, he hurled it down the hall, far from the boy and nurse, then turned and walked away.
“That was mean, sir!” the boy shouted.
Andrew had been in the hospital for days that felt like weeks. He tried to keep working, setting up his laptop and pushing through meetings.
But the treatment was draining. Each session left him weaker. The nausea was constant, and sleep was nearly impossible.
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One afternoon, during another long chemotherapy session, Andrew leaned back, his eyes half-closed. He felt miserable.
Suddenly, a small voice broke through his fog. He opened his eyes to see a boy standing in front of him. Startled, Andrew flinched. The boy giggled. It was the same boy from the corridor.
“What do you want, kid?” Andrew mumbled, not even lifting his head.
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“I’ve been walking around the hospital looking for someone to play with. It’s boring here.”
Andrew glanced at him, annoyed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Tommy,” the boy replied with a wide grin.
Andrew sighed. “Listen, Tommy. I’m not in the mood to play. Go bother someone else before I start feeling worse.”
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Tommy didn’t move. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small peppermint candy. He held it out to Andrew. “This helps with nausea. You should try it.”
Andrew hesitated, then snatched the candy and set it on the table.
“You’re really grumpy!” Tommy said, laughing. “I’m going to call you Mr. Grouch. Are you mad because you’re scared of needles?” He pointed at the IV attached to Andrew’s arm.
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Andrew frowned. “I’m not scared of anything.”
Tommy nodded. “That’s fine. I was scared at first too, but then I stopped. My mom says I’m a superhero. Do you have a superpower?”
“No,” Andrew said, his voice flat.
“That’s because you’re too sad,” Tommy replied, his tone serious now.
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Andrew looked at the boy, surprised by the honesty in his big, bright eyes. “Is there anything you want?” Andrew asked.
Tommy grinned. “Yeah. I want to buy flowers for my mom. She works really hard, but I don’t have any money.”
Andrew sighed again, reached for his wallet, and pulled out a few bills. “Here. Get your flowers. Maybe buy yourself something too. But leave me alone.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Tommy’s face lit up. “Thanks, Mr. Grouch!” He ran out, clutching the money, while Andrew stared at the peppermint candy on the table.
With a sigh, he picked it up, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. To his surprise, the sharp sweetness helped ease the nausea. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference for a while.
That evening, as Andrew stared at his laptop, a nurse knocked on his door.
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She carried a small paper bag. “This is for you,” she said, placing it on the table. “Tommy sent it.”
Andrew opened the bag and found it full of peppermint candies. He shook his head, unsure whether to feel amused or moved.
The next morning, he decided to find Tommy. He needed to make one thing clear: the money wasn’t a gift.
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As he approached Tommy’s room, he saw a woman leaning against the wall, her shoulders shaking. She was crying.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked, his voice low.
The woman wiped her eyes quickly and looked up. “Yes… Did you need something?”
“Tommy gave me some candies yesterday,” Andrew said.
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The woman’s lips curved into a small smile. “Oh, so you’re Mr. Grouch,” she said.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Andrew,” he replied.
“I’m Sara,” she said. “Are you here for treatment too?”
Andrew nodded.
“Then you understand,” Sara said quietly. “The bills, the stress. I can’t even pay rent right now. They told me we’ll be evicted in two months.”
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Andrew nodded again, unsure of what to say. Before he could respond, the door burst open. Tommy ran out, his face lighting up when he saw Andrew. “Hey, Mr. Grouch!” he called, grinning ear to ear.
From that day forward, Tommy became a constant presence in Andrew’s life.
The boy would wander into Andrew’s room with a big grin and endless energy. At first, Andrew found it annoying, but Tommy’s persistence wore him down.
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Soon, Andrew began looking forward to the visits. Tommy taught him to notice the simple joys in life.
They sat by the window, watching the sunset, guessing the colors in the sky. They played harmless pranks on nurses, earning scolding looks and stifled smiles.
Sometimes, they “borrowed” wheelchairs and raced down the halls, laughing until their sides hurt.
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Andrew didn’t ask about Tommy’s illness. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up. One afternoon, Tommy mentioned Sara had been crying again. “She’s worried about money,” Tommy said. “We might lose our house.”
Andrew quietly gave Tommy an envelope of cash. “Tell her it’s from a magician,” he said.
When Sara tried to return the money, Andrew waved her off. “I’m not a magician,” he said. “I don’t know where it came from.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Weeks passed. Andrew’s treatments worked, and the day came when the doctor gave him the news—he was cancer-free.
Ecstatic, Andrew rushed to share it with Tommy. But when he arrived, Tommy was unconscious, Sara sitting beside him, tears streaming down her face.
“What happened?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
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Sara wiped her eyes and shook her head. “The doctors said there’s nothing more they can do.”
Andrew stared at her, struggling to process the words. “But… he seemed so happy. He always smiled. I thought he was improving.”
Sara looked at him, her face full of pain. “He didn’t want you to see how sick he was. He wanted to be strong for you. He thought he was a superhero.”
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Andrew’s chest tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
Sara managed a faint smile through her tears. “Don’t be. He said you saved him. These months, you gave him laughter and hope. You made him forget about being sick.”
Andrew shook his head slowly. “No. He’s the one who saved me.”
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He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She cried quietly against his shoulder, and though Andrew wished he could take her pain away, he knew nothing would ever truly ease it.
That night, Tommy passed away peacefully, surrounded by the love of his mother and the memories he had made.
Andrew sat alone in his room afterward, overwhelmed by the loss. Andrew couldn’t bear the thought of such a bright soul being forgotten.
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Determined, he started a foundation in Tommy’s name to help sick children, ensuring his kindness would live on.
He also stayed in touch with Sara, offering her support in every way he could.
One afternoon, Andrew stood at his ex-wife’s door, holding the painting she had demanded for so long. She opened the door, her mouth ready to hurl accusations, but Andrew silently handed her the painting.
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“I’m not here to argue,” Andrew said, his tone calm as he held out the painting.
His ex-wife frowned, puzzled. “What is this supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Nothing important,” Andrew replied, a small smile forming. “I’m just making sure I keep my superpowers.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Taking care of Mom was hard enough without the tension with my sister. Accusations flew when precious things started disappearing. I thought I knew who was to blame, but the truth shattered my world. Betrayal came from where I least expected, leaving me questioning everything—and everyone—I trusted.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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