As Thanksgiving approaches, William mourns his wife, Ellen, and wonders how he’s going to spend their favorite holiday without her. But his daughter-in-law, Amelia, loves to cook and has taken to cooking for dinner. Moved by his feelings and nostalgia, William gifts her Ellen’s most loved and worn apron. But when he finds the apron in the garbage, he realizes that his hurt goes all the way back to his grief, fueling a reaction.
It was the morning before Thanksgiving, and I was feeling the full weight of Ellen not being around anymore. This was the first Thanksgiving without my wife, who had passed away almost a year ago.
A rose on a tombstone | Source: Freepik
I sat on the armchair in my bedroom and left my newspaper to the side. If Ellen were still around, she would have had an entire shopping list ready for me to get.
“It’s just the last-minute things, William,” she would say, absentmindedly doodling on the grocery list while she pondered what else we would need.
A woman writing | Source: Unsplash
“Sure, honey,” I’d always tell her, ready to go to the store and get her everything she needed.
But this year was the first time in 30 years that I wouldn’t have Ellen around for the holidays.
Instead, my son’s wife, Amelia, promised us that she would take over the Thanksgiving dinner.
A smiling young woman | Source: Freepik
“Don’t worry, Dad,” my son, Harry, told me. “Amelia cooks just like Mom, and Mom taught her a few things, too.”
I wasn’t worried about anything. If I had to be honest, I was grateful that the kitchen would be used in all its glory once again. Since Ellen passed away, Harry and Amelia had moved in with me.
A fancy kitchen | Source: Unsplash
“It won’t be for long, Dad,” Harry said. “But I don’t want you to be alone. And this way, Amelia and I can save up for a house in the meantime. We all need to heal together.”
When they moved in, I tried to put a lot of Ellen’s things away. I wanted them to feel at home, too.
Packing boxes | Source: Unsplash
I couldn’t argue with Harry because the thought of being alone in the house that Ellen and I had built was too much. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to cope without her.
I needed the support from my son.
A smiling old man | Source: Unsplash
The longer I sat in my room, wrapped in the thoughts of my wife, the more sentimental I got. Eventually, I decided to pass on something priceless to Amelia.
Opening Ellen’s closet, I pulled out her faded floral apron. It had been around for as long as I could remember, and every holiday had at least one photograph of Ellen in it.
A floral apron | Source: Pexels
There were a few food stains that just couldn’t be removed, but I thought that it added charm to the apron.
I thought that maybe if I passed the apron to Amelia, who shared Ellen’s passion for cooking, she would honor Ellen’s memory and Thanksgiving traditions.
An elderly woman cooking | Source: Pexels
The following morning, I was sitting in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal when Amelia came in, tying her hair and pulling up her sleeves.
“Hi, William,” she said. “Ready for Thanksgiving?”
A man pouring milk into a bowl | Source: Pexels
“Of course, I am,” I said, smiling at her. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do in the kitchen today.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Harry isn’t going to help at all. He’s probably going to watch the parade or look for sports on TV.”
“There’s something I want you to have,” I told her.
A person watching sport on TV | Source: Pexels
I put the folded apron onto the counter and slid it across to her.
“Ellen would have wanted you to have this, Amelia,” I said. “This was her favorite apron, and she wore it for every holiday that involved the kitchen.”
Amelia smiled at me. It was a polite smile; maybe it was a bit strained, but I dismissed it as my own sentimentality clouding my judgment.
A woman with a forced smile | Source: Pexels
She put the apron on, her face changing slightly when she saw how well-worn it was and the old food stains.
“Great, thank you,” she said. “Let’s cook!”
We spent the next few hours cooking together. Amelia did things differently than Ellen. From her cooking style to the actual ingredients used.
A woman cooking | Source: Pexels
I obeyed all her instructions and watched everything she did. It was different from what I was used to. But I still loved that Amelia was stepping up and taking control of the family holidays.
“Do you think we should do a table setting like what Ellen would have done?” she asked me.
A table setting and decor | Source: Unsplash
“Of course,” I said. “It’s just part of the tradition!”
“Then maybe we should get Harry onto that,” she suggested.
The rest of the day flew by in the kitchen with cooking preparations. Every single time I thought of Ellen, I distracted myself with another task.
A man chopping mushrooms | Source: Pexels
I watched as Amelia bustled around the kitchen in what seemed like genuine delight. As our closest family and friends began showing up for dinner, I went upstairs to freshen up for the occasion.
Everything was perfect, including Harry’s table setting. I missed Ellen throughout the evening, especially when the pies came out. My wife had a tradition of eating two slices of pie, one pecan and one pumpkin.
A pumpkin pie | Source: Pexels
“It’s the one time of year that I eat them,” she would say, spraying whipped cream all over the slices of pie on her plate.
Now, as Harry cut into the pumpkin pie, he caught my eye and smiled, handing me the first piece.
“For Mom,” he said.
Cream on a slice of pie | Source: Pexels
Everything seemed perfect. I went to bed that evening feeling as though my wife had been present. She was there, in the quiet moments after the dinner party, when I loaded the dishwasher and made myself a cup of tea.
But then, with the next morning came a different set of heartbreak.
A person stocking the dishwasher | Source: Unsplash
I was out, taking my usual walk around the block. While taking a shortcut back home through the alley behind our house, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. A glimpse of floral fabric, peering out from the top of our dumpster.
A man talking a walk | Source: Pexels
It was Ellen’s apron, discarded and partially covered in the newspaper that I had been reading and other refuse.
My heart sank, bringing a different sense of grief to me.
The apron that held so many cherished memories of Ellen was thrown away like common trash.
Outdoor trashcans | Source: Pexels
I retrieved the apron, the dew having made it damp in the crisp morning.
“How could Amelia do this?” I asked myself.
It felt like a betrayal, not just of Ellen’s memory, but of the love and trust that I had placed in her.
An old man holding his chin | Source: Unsplash
I could have let it go. I would have chalked it up to Amelia not wanting to wear something old, or even not wanting to wear something that once belonged to her mother-in-law. But it was the cold way in which she had discarded it.
Determined to teach her a lesson about respect and the value of memories, I thought that I’d sit down to tea with her and talk about cooking. It was the one thing that we constantly bonded over.
A cup of tea | Source: Pexels
Amelia agreed, unaware that I knew about the apron. She followed me up the stairs, and I led her to the attic.
“Come on,” I said. “There’s something I want to show you.”
“Oh, William,” she said when she looked around the attic and saw the neatly preserved boxes.
An attic with stacked boxes and clothing | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve never been in here,” she said. “I didn’t know that we had an attic in this house.”
I stepped aside, allowing her to get into the room properly.
“Since you didn’t find value in the apron, maybe you’ll find something here that you won’t just throw away,” I said, my voice colder than I intended.
A woman covering her face with her hands | Source: Pexels
Amelia, visibly uncomfortable, shifted from foot to foot.
“William, I…” she began, her voice trailing off when she saw the apron hanging from a hook across the room.
I stood in silence as she tried to apologize, but her words seemed hollow.
A woman holding her face | Source: Pexels
“Look,” I said. “Maybe I forced it onto you, and I’m sorry about that, Amelia. But at the same time, I just thought that it would have been something to pass on to you. Not to mention that it was comforting for Harry and me to see.”
She nodded, nervously looking at the door. She was probably wondering if I had told Harry about the incident. I hadn’t. I didn’t want to create any unpleasantness between them.
A couple sitting uncomfortably | Source: Pexels
But I still felt like a rift had been caused between us. As we continued to live under the same roof, I kept to myself as much as possible. I wasn’t angry with Amelia. I was hurt.
I was hurt on behalf of myself, of Ellen, and even Harry, who didn’t know any better.
I knew that I would get over it eventually, but for now, I just needed to let myself grieve my wife, and keep her memory strong.
A smiling old couple | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
My Ex’s Mom Invited Me to Her Wedding but When I Arrived, I Realized It Was All a Set-up
When Hayley’s ex’s mom invites her to design a wedding dress for her big day, it seems strange, but nothing prepares Hayley for the truth. What follows is a confession, a second chance at love, and a surprise she never saw coming. Sometimes, life gives you the most unexpected twists…
It had been three years since Adam and I broke up, but I still couldn’t shake him. Five years of love doesn’t just disappear overnight. His sudden breakup was like a sucker punch with no explanation, no closure, just silence.
It was just done.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Then, about a year ago, he started dating her. My former friend, Miranda. If betrayal had a face, it was hers, plastered all over social media with captions of the two of them:
When you know, you know, and The best thing that ever happened to me!
I told myself to block her, to stop looking, but I didn’t. Every photo, every grin, every comment about her “forever love” felt like salt in an open wound.
A laptop opened to social media | Source: Midjourney
I never stopped loving him. That’s the sad, honest truth. Pathetic, I know. I wasn’t able to date anyone seriously since him.
So when Adam’s mom, Lena, called me out of the blue last month, I thought I was hallucinating.
We never exactly got along. She had always been polite but distant, like she was sizing me up and always finding me lacking something or the other.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
After the breakup, I assumed I’d never hear from her again. But there she was, on the other end of my phone, her voice strangely warm.
“Hello, sweetheart,” she said. “I know this might be unexpected, but I have a favor to ask, Hayley.”
Lena told me that she was getting married. Married! And she wanted me to design her wedding dress. She gushed about how I’d become one of the most sought-after seamstresses in the city.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve always admired your work, Hayley,” she said softly. “And I trust you. I know you’d create something perfect just for me.”
Trust? Admiration?
From Lena?
I nearly dropped the phone. I couldn’t figure out what game she was playing. My instincts screamed at me to say no, to hang up and block her number. And truly be done with that entire family.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
But she begged. And how could I say no? She said that no one else could do it justice and that she’d forever be grateful.
“Nobody else will do things that will suit my age and my figure! And make me something dream-worthy, Hayley. Please?”
I don’t know why I said yes. Maybe there was a part of me that wanted to feel close to Adam again. Or maybe I just couldn’t resist the curiosity clawing at me.
Either way, I agreed.
A sketch of a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, I poured myself into the dress. The fabric was like spun clouds, soft and ethereal, with delicate beading along the bodice. I stayed up late perfecting every stitch. Lena had wanted a lacy dress that made her feel like a princess.
“I know it’s foolish, darling,” she said. “When I married Adam’s father all those years ago, I wore a shapeless white dress that did absolutely nothing for my figure. I want to live my dream wedding dress now.”
Lena had given me her measurements, and oddly enough, they matched mine.
A woman sewing | Source: Midjourney
I tried not to think about it. But it wasn’t a surprise. The entire time I had been dating Adam, Lena was always at Pilates or yoga or swimming with her friends.
The morning of the wedding arrived. I packed the dress into a garment bag, loaded it carefully into my car, and drove to the venue. It was a gorgeous country estate tucked away like something out of a fairy tale.
If I ever got married, I could see myself using this as a venue contender.
A wedding venue | Source: Midjourney
The moment I pulled up, unease curled in my stomach.
Something’s wrong, I thought. But I shook it off.
Clutching the garment bag, I walked inside. Soft music drifted through the air, and guests milled about in suits and gowns, their laughter a low hum. But then I saw it.
A massive banner near the altar, shimmering under the soft light.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
It displayed the names of the couple getting married.
I froze right there.
It wasn’t Lena’s name.
It was Adam’s name. And mine.
Welcome to the nuptials of Adam & Hayley
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I blinked, my mind short-circuiting. My heart was racing so fast it felt like it might explode.
“What… what is this?” I whispered aloud.
“Hayley,” a voice said from behind me.
His voice, Adam’s voice, made me jump. I turned around, and there he was.
Adam.
A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney
He looked older, his jaw sharper, his eyes softer. He wasn’t smiling, though. He just stood there, hands at his sides, looking at me like I was the only person in the room.
“What is this?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “Why is my name on that banner? What’s happening?”
He took a slow step toward me, regret written all over his face.
“Please, just let me explain.”
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But I just couldn’t move.
“You’ve got two minutes,” I said, folding my arms tightly across my chest.
He took a deep breath.
“Three years ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life.”
Yeah, no kidding, I thought bitterly, but I stayed quiet.
A woman with folded arms | Source: Midjourney
“I was going to propose to you, Hayley,” he said. “I had the ring. I had everything planned. And then… she showed me something.”
“She?” I whispered, already knowing who.
“Your… my ex. Miranda,” he looked away, his voice thick with regret. “She showed me a video of you all on holiday. Thailand, I think it was. And you were drinking and shouting that you didn’t want kids. She told me that it was recent, that you’d been lying to me about wanting a family. Especially with me. It crushed me, Hayley. I thought I didn’t know you at all.”
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
The air whooshed out of my lungs. I remembered the video. It was years ago, we had been on a girls’ trip, and I was venting after a drunken spat with someone who assumed all women had to want kids. The same man who made his wife take care of their kids while he enjoyed his beer on the beach.
It had nothing to do with Adam and everything to do with wanting to be heard.
“You didn’t think to ask me?” I choked out. “You didn’t think that you could have taken five minutes to ask me about that video?”
A surprised woman | Source: Midjourney
“I know, Hayley,” he said, shaking his head. “I was stupid. I was already vulnerable, and she got into my head. I believed Miranda. I believed everything she said. And I let you go. Then she admitted the truth.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Months ago. She slipped up during an argument. She told me the video was old, and she knew I’d overreact. She said that she wanted me for myself and couldn’t stand that you had me.”
A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She’d destroyed everything we had, and he let her.
“I ended things with her that night,” he continued. “And I’ve spent every day since trying to figure out how to fix this. How to win you back.”
I shook my head, still completely overwhelmed.
“And this?” I gestured around. “What the heck is this?”
His lips curved into a small, nervous smile.
A wedding setting | Source: Midjourney
“This is me not waiting any longer…”
Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box. Then he dropped to one knee.
“Hayley, I love you. I never stopped. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m asking for it anyway. Will you marry me? Right here, right now?”
I stared at him, my world spinning. Then, out of nowhere, it hit me.
A ruby engagement ring | Source: Midjourney
Lena.
She’d planned this. She’d asked me to make the dress because she knew.
And the truth? I still loved him.
So, I whispered my answer.
“Yes, Adam.”
Lena appeared almost instantly, carrying flowers and beaming like a woman who’d just pulled off the heist of the century.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
“You said yes!” she cried, hugging me tightly. “I’m so sorry for how I treated you before, Hayley. I didn’t see how much you meant to Adam until it was too late. Thank you for giving him another chance.”
Stylists and makeup artists seemed to appear out of nowhere. My parents showed up, looking both stunned and delighted. No one knew if I’d say yes, but they’d all been ready.
I changed into the dress I’d made with my own hands, realizing it had been meant for me all along.
Hair and makeup artists | Source: Midjourney
When Adam and I stood together at the altar, his hand in mine, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years.
Peace.
After the ceremony, the crowd had thinned, and the music played softly in the background. I stood on the balcony of the venue, the crisp evening air cooling my flushed cheeks.
My hands rested on the railing as I stared at the horizon, trying to process everything that had happened.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Hey.”
Adam’s voice came from behind me. I turned to see him standing there, tie loosened, the soft glow of string lights making his eyes look even warmer.
“Hey,” I said quietly, my lips curving into a small smile.
He stepped beside me, his arm brushing against mine as we both looked out into the night.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
A smiling groom | Source: Midjourney
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head.
“I don’t even know what I am right now. Happy? Overwhelmed? Still waiting for someone to yell ‘April Fools’?”
He chuckled, his gaze softening.
“It’s real, Hayley. I promise.”
We fell silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice more serious.
A laughing bride | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t deserve this. You. I know I messed up. I let someone else’s lies break something beautiful, and I’ve hated myself for it every day since.”
I turned to face him, my heart tightening.
“You should’ve talked to me, Adam. I would have told you the truth. You hurt me so much when you left.”
His face crumbled just a little, his jaw flexing.
A woman looking pensive | Source: Midjourney
“I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”
I stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for any doubt, any hesitation.
But there was none.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I whispered.
His lips curved into a smile, a mixture of relief and love.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, you are,” he said.
He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, lingering for just a moment.
“This time, I’ll get it right.”
I smiled back, the truth settling deep in my chest.
“This time, we will.”
“Come, love. Let’s go get some cake and champagne.”
But before we left the balcony, he pulled me into his arms, and for the first time in years, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.
A wedding cake | Source: Midjourney
On the day of Mabel and Adam’s wedding, they’re stuck in a limousine as they crawl along the freeway, thanks to traffic. Instead of keeping her mother’s guests entertained, Mabel’s daughter, Amanda, takes over the wedding, stealing the limelight. Will Mabel retaliate at the wedding or just let Amanda learn her lesson another way?
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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