When April’s husband dies, she loses more than just the love of her life. She loses her home. Forced to sleep in the garage while her cruel mother-in-law, Judith, takes everything, April has no choice but to endure. But when Judith falls gravely ill, she comes begging for help. Will April choose revenge… or forgiveness?
I used to believe that love could protect me from anything. That my husband, James, would always be there to catch me if I fell.
When he asked me to leave my career in finance to be a stay-at-home mom, he promised I’d never have to worry about anything. I loved him, so I agreed.
A woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney
We had twin baby girls, Grace and Ella, who became our entire world.
And then, he died.
The call came on a gray afternoon. James had been rushing home from a business trip, eager to see us. The roads were slick, and his car skidded off the highway. The officer on the phone kept talking, saying things like instant impact and no suffering.
But all I heard was the sound of my own heartbeat thudding in my ears.
A car crash scene | Source: Midjourney
The days blurred. The funeral came and went. I clung to my daughters, to the last voicemail James had left me, replaying it just to hear his voice.
I thought losing him was the worst thing that could ever happen to me.
I was wrong.
I had spent hours at the cemetery after the funeral. I had just wanted a few more moments with my husband before I went back to reality.
A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
Judith, my mother-in-law, had taken the girls home.
“We’ll talk when you get back,” she said. “I’ll get the twins bathed and settled in.”
When I returned home from the funeral, Judith was waiting for me.
She sat in the living room, her back straight, hands folded in her lap, staring at me with that same cold, calculated look she always had.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“This house belongs to me, April,” she said. “I let James and you live here, but now, I’m taking it back.”
My breath caught. I felt like someone had just pushed me.
“Judith, I…”
I thought I misheard her.
“What?”
She exhaled sharply, as if already bored of the conversation.
An upset woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“James never changed the deed,” she said. “I gave him the option after the twins were born, but he never followed through. So the house is still in my name. You can stay. But you’ll sleep in the garage.”
I stared at her, searching for a flicker of humanity. Some sign that she was speaking out in grief, that she would take it back any second now.
But she didn’t.
She just sat there, waiting for me to break.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
She wanted me to beg her. I knew she did.
I looked at my daughters, their big, innocent, and sleepy eyes watching me from the couch. They had already lost their father. I couldn’t let them lose their home, too.
So, I agreed.
Twin girls sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
The garage smelled like oil and rust. At night, the cold crept through the thin camping mat and duvet I slept on. The cold seeped into my bones every night. When it got too unbearable, I curled up in the backseat of the car, my arms wrapped around myself for warmth.
I told myself it was temporary.
James had left money for us, but legal things took time. And I just had to be patient. Because until the lawyer finalized everything, I had nothing.
The interior of a garage | Source: Midjourney
No job, no access to our accounts, nowhere to go.
And even if I had someone to call, I couldn’t imagine saying the words out loud. The shame would have choked me.
I existed in silence. I only stepped into the house to cook and eat with the girls. To do their laundry and kiss them goodnight. I moved around my own home like a stranger.
A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Now, even a month later, Judith barely acknowledged me. Why would she, anyway? She had won.
One afternoon, I was sitting in the living room with my girls. The crayons rolled across the coffee table, scattering in every direction. Grace and Ella sat cross-legged on the floor, their tiny hands gripping their colors of choice, faces scrunched in deep concentration.
“I’m drawing Daddy’s eyes blue!” Grace said, pressing hard into the paper. “Like the ocean.”
Crayons on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
Ella tilted her head, studying her drawing.
“Mine is smiling. Daddy always smiled,” she said, a smile creeping onto her face.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“He did,” I murmured.
Smiling little girls | Source: Midjourney
The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken things. The only sounds were the scratch of crayon against the paper and the occasional shuffle of tiny feet against the rug.
I ran my fingers along the edge of a blank sheet, willing myself to keep it together.
Then, Ella spoke.
“Mommy?”
I looked up.
“Yeah, baby? What’s wrong?”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip.
“Why do you sleep in the garage?”
My hands stilled.
Grace looked up too, her expression open and trusting. It was the same expression James would have on his face when he wanted the girls to tell him about their nightmares.
A sad little girl | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah,” she said. “Grandma sleeps in your bed. Why don’t you sleep there?”
A sharp, twisting pain settled in my chest.
I forced a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind Ella’s ear.
“Because sometimes grown-ups have to make hard decisions, baby girls. It’s not always nice, but there’s always a bigger reason.”
A close up of a little girl | Source: Midjourney
Ella frowned. I could see thoughts formulating in her head.
“But you’re Daddy’s wife,” she said simply.
The words knocked the air from my lungs.
“I am,” I whispered. “I am Daddy’s wife, yes.”
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Grace blinked up at me, waiting. I hadn’t realized that my girls were holding onto these thoughts.
“Then why doesn’t Grandma get the big bed?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came.
A creak sounded from the hallway. I glanced up, and there, just beyond the corner…
An older woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
Stood Judith.
She wasn’t watching me. She was watching them.
Her hands gripped the doorframe, her face pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. For the first time, she looked like a woman who had made a terrible mistake.
But she didn’t say a word.
She just stood there, listening. And when I didn’t answer my daughters, she turned and walked away.
A woman walking down a hallway | Source: Midjourney
And then, one night, there was a knock at the garage door. I opened it to find Judith standing there.
But she wasn’t the same woman who had banished me. For the first time in a long time, I looked at her.
Her usually pristine hair was unkempt, the gray streaks more pronounced. Her face, always so rigid with control, was pale and sunken. Her lips were dry and cracked.
And her hands… her hands trembled uncontrollably.
A woman standing in front of a door | Source: Midjourney
I frowned.
Had she always been this thin? I cooked every day, making sure that there was more than enough food for all four of us. Had Judith not been eating?
She swallowed hard, and when she spoke, her voice cracked.
“April, please.”
I said nothing.
A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
She blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold back tears.
“I made a terrible mistake.”
I waited.
She exhaled shakily, then whispered.
“I’m sick…” she said.
A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney
Her lips pressed together, and for the first time, I saw something I had never seen in her before.
Fear.
I should’ve felt vindicated. I should have relished the moment she stood before me, desperate and vulnerable. But all I felt was exhaustion.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice hollow.
Her hands tightened into fists at her sides.
A close up of a woman wearing a robe | Source: Midjourney
“The doctors say it’s bad. And I can’t stop thinking that maybe… maybe this is my punishment.”
I crossed my arms. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“For what? For throwing your widowed daughter-in-law into a garage?”
She flinched, as if I had slapped her.
A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney
“For everything, April. For the way I treated you, darling. For the way I pushed people away.”
Silence stretched between us.
Then, she reached into her coat and pulled out a stack of papers.
“I transferred the house to you and the girls, April,” she said. “It’s yours now. Officially. As it always should have been.”
“Why?” My stomach clenched.
A woman holding a stack of paperwork | Source: Midjourney
“Because I have no one else.”
I stared at the papers in my hands. This is what I had been waiting for, proof that I never had to beg. That I never had to fear being thrown away again.
But Judith’s face was lined with regret. And in that moment, I saw her not as my personal tormentor but as a woman who had finally realized the weight of her own cruelty.
A woman holding a stack of paperwork | Source: Midjourney
I stepped inside.
“Come inside,” I said.
Her breath hitched.
“Oh, it’s cold in here,” she said.
“I know, but you get used to it,” I replied.
For the first time, the woman who had once looked at me like I was nothing let herself cry.
A woman standing inside a garage | Source: Midjourney
The guest room still didn’t feel like hers. I could see it. The way she moved around it, like a stranger, making sure that everything was in the exact same spot it had been.
Judith sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, staring at the cup of tea I had placed on the nightstand.
The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows across her face, making her look small somehow.
The interior of a guest bedroom | Source: Midjourney
It was the first night since I had moved back into the house, with Judith moving into the guest room. Everything felt… strange.
And I wasn’t sure how I felt to be in the same room that James and I had shared for so long. But I was just grateful to be back inside.
Now, I sat across from Judith, pulling my legs up onto the chair, cradling my own mug between my hands.
An older woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
The silence stretched, thick and uneasy but not hostile.
She was the one who broke it.
“I have cancer,” she said quietly. “Stage three.”
I exhaled slowly. We both knew it was serious, but hearing the words still sent a strange, sinking feeling through my chest.
A woman sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” she admitted.
Her hands trembled slightly as she traced the rim of her mug.
“I’m scared, April.”
“I know,” I said, nodding. “You’re not alone, though, Judith. I’m here. The twins are here for cuddles and laughs.”
“I don’t deserve you… after everything…”
A women sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
“Probably not,” I said, cutting her off before she could spiral into guilt. “But Grace and Ella love you. And whether you like it or not, you’re part of this family.”
Her throat bobbed, and she let out a shaky breath.
“James would want us to take care of each other.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “He would.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Judith exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face.
“God, I’m going to be eating so much damn soup, aren’t I?”
I snorted.
“Oh, absolutely! Soup, herbal tea, all the nutritious food you never wanted to touch before.”
A bowl of soup | Source: Midjourney
She made a face.
“Can’t we just pretend wine is medicinal?”
I laughed, and to my surprise, Judith laughed too.
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But in that moment, I knew we were going to be okay.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
Because despite everything, we were family.
After that, I took Judith to every doctor appointment possible. I wanted to get back to work, but I figured that this was more important for the moment.
We had the money that James left behind, and we would use it until I got back into action.
A woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney
The doctor’s office smelled sterile, the antiseptic strong. Judith sat beside me, hands folded tightly in her lap, her knuckles bone-white.
Dr. Patel, a man in his fifties with kind eyes, adjusted his glasses and flipped through Judith’s chart.
“The biopsy confirms it’s stage three,” he said gently. “We need to start treatment as soon as possible. Chemo, radiation… It won’t be easy, but it’s still treatable.”
A doctor sitting at his desk | Source: Midjourney
Judith nodded stiffly, as if the diagnosis hadn’t just put a clock on her life.
I glanced at her, waiting for her to say something. She didn’t.
“Will she need surgery?” I asked, filling the silence.
The doctor gave a small nod.
A woman sitting in a doctor’s room | Source: Midjourney
“Eventually, yes. But first, we focus on shrinking the tumor. This is going to be a long road.”
“I know,” Judith said, letting out a breath.
It was the first time I’d ever seen her look small.
“Do you have a support system? Family who can help?” he asked.
Judith hesitated.
A woman sitting in a doctor’s room | Source: Midjourney
“She has us,” I said, my voice steady. “She won’t go through this alone.”
I reached out and covered her hand with mine. Judith’s fingers twitched beneath mine, like she wasn’t used to being held onto.
“Good, that makes all the difference,” the doctor said, smiling.
Judith didn’t speak the whole way home. But when we pulled into the driveway, she exhaled shakily.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, April. Thank you for being wonderful.”
“We’ll get through this,” I said.
For the first time, she nodded like she believed me.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Woman Thought Pretending to Be Someone’s Girlfriend at a Wedding Would Be Fun Until She Wished She Hadn’t — Story of the Day
Stuck in an elevator with a stranger was bad enough. But when Lena found out Dylan—a charming, suit-clad mystery man—needed a fake date for a wedding the next day, things got even weirder. A power outage, a bold proposition, and one tempting question: Would she really say yes to a total stranger?
Lena checked her watch for the third time in a minute. Late. Again.
She exhaled sharply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she strode down the boutique hotel’s hallway.
The air smelled of fresh lilies, their floral sharpness mixed with the faintest trace of citrus and polished wood.
It was the kind of scent that clung to weddings—the kind that brought memories of champagne toasts, aching feet in high heels, and teary speeches that went on too long.
A fitting reminder, considering her best friend had gotten married last week.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena reached the elevator and jabbed the button, as if sheer determination could speed up the machinery.
She bounced on her heels, fingers tapping anxiously against the strap of her bag.
The soft chime of the elevator arriving barely registered in her brain before she darted inside.
Just as the doors started closing, a blur of movement caught her eye. A man lunged in after her, his shoulder bumping into hers as her suitcase wobbled dangerously.
“Sorry—” he started, a breathless chuckle in his voice. He straightened, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from his crisp suit.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena barely spared him a glance. “No worries.”
And then, everything stopped.
The elevator jerked violently. The lights flickered once, twice, then steadied. The hum of movement vanished.
Lena’s stomach clenched. A thick, loaded silence filled the small space.
She pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing.
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, pressing her palm against the cool metal doors as if she could will them open.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Beside her, the man let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. “Classic. Always when you’re in a rush.”
Lena finally turned to him fully. Sharp blue eyes. Tousled blond hair. A suit that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.
A Hallmark movie hero, if she’d ever seen one.
“I take it you have somewhere important to be?” he asked, his lips quirking in amusement.
“A dinner with a friend,” she muttered. “She got married last week. We planned this before I leave town.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Ah,” he nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Funny coincidence. The wedding I’m going to is tomorrow.”
Lena blinked. “Wait. You’re—”
“Dylan.” He extended a hand, palm up, as if this was the most normal introduction in the world. “Groom’s best friend. And emergency wedding date seeker.”
Before she could even process that, the intercom crackled overhead.
“Uh, folks? Seems like we’ve got a small power outage affecting the elevators. We’re working on it. Might take a bit.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena closed her eyes briefly. “Perfect.”
Dylan chuckled. “Look on the bright side. At least we’re not alone in here.”
She shot him a look. “Right. Because being stuck with a stranger is somehow better than being stuck alone.”
He shrugged, flashing a lazy grin. “Depends on the stranger, doesn’t it?”
They stood in awkward silence for a moment. The hum of hotel activity beyond the metal doors felt distant, as if they were suspended in time.
Then, out of nowhere, Dylan asked, “So, any chance you’re up for a second wedding in a week?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena turned to him slowly, brow raised. “Excuse me?”
“I need a date for the wedding.” He smirked, leaning against the wall like this was just another casual conversation.
“My ex is going to be there, and I’d rather not be the guy sitting alone at the singles table. Think of it as a fake date for a noble cause.”
Lena let out a short laugh. Was this guy serious?
“You’re really asking a total stranger to be your plus-one while we’re trapped in an elevator?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan shrugged, completely unbothered. “So, is it a yes or a no?”
Lena never thought she’d actually go through with it.
The whole thing had sounded ridiculous—a fake date with a man she barely knew, just to help him save face at a wedding. And yet, here she was.
She smoothed her hands down the fabric of her red dress, the one she had almost left hanging in the back of her suitcase.
It wasn’t her usual style—too bold, too eye-catching, too much.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But something about tonight made her want to be someone else, even if just for a few hours.
Dylan stood beside her, a glass of champagne in one hand, his other resting lightly on the small of her back. Steady, effortless, completely at ease. Unlike her.
She forced a polite smile as yet another guest approached, throwing curious glances her way.
Weddings were strange like that—everyone wanted to know who you were, why you were there, if your presence meant something.
Dylan, on the other hand, played the part perfectly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He leaned down, murmuring in her ear, “That woman in the blue dress has been trying to figure out if we’re engaged for the past ten minutes.”
Lena barely stopped herself from laughing. “Should I flash a fake ring just to mess with her?”
His eyes twinkled. “Tempting. But then I’d have to plan an even faker proposal.”
They moved through the ballroom like they had done this a hundred times before—his touch easy, his words charming, his smile like a safety net.
And then there was the dance.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The moment his fingers laced with hers, the moment he guided her into a slow, fluid rhythm, Lena forgot for a second that this wasn’t real.
His grip was firm but gentle, the kind that told her to trust him. The warmth of his palm against her waist sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.
This was pretend. She knew that. But something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made it too easy to forget.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As the bride and groom swayed in the center of the dance floor, Lena tilted her head up. “So, tell me,” she murmured, “what’s the deal with this ex of yours?”
Dylan took a sip of champagne, and for the first time all night, his smile flickered. Just for a second.
“Maya,” he said, rolling the name on his tongue like it was still a part of him. “We dated for a while. Things got… complicated.”
Lena raised a brow. “Complicated how?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking down to the golden liquid swirling in his glass. “She thought I wasn’t serious enough. That I didn’t have time for her.”
“And did you?”
Dylan paused, then let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe not. But I was trying.”
Before Lena could respond, someone called Dylan’s name.
She turned just in time to see her.
Maya.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Lena didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who she was.
Tall. Poised. Beautiful in that effortless way that made other women feel like they were trying too hard.
Her presence filled the room with a quiet kind of power—like she knew she belonged anywhere she went.
And when she reached Dylan, she hugged him.
Not a casual, polite hug. Not an awkward, we-used-to-date hug.
Something in between. Something that made Lena’s chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t have.
She wasn’t supposed to care. This wasn’t real.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And yet, it sure as hell felt like it was.
The reception was in full swing—laughter, clinking glasses, music that vibrated through the floor—but Lena barely heard any of it.
Her fingers gripped the stem of her champagne glass a little too tightly as she watched Dylan and Maya across the room.
Too close. Too familiar. Too much. Their voices were low, their expressions unreadable. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t for her to hear.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And yet, she couldn’t look away.
This was supposed to be a game. A favor. A night of harmless pretending. But now, her stomach twisted, and she hated the feeling.
A shadow moved beside her. “Everything okay?”
Dylan.
Lena blinked, dragging her gaze from Maya. She forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “Great. You and Maya catching up?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan’s frown was subtle but there. “Not really. She just wanted to check in.”
Check in. Right.
“Lena,” he started, voice softer now, careful. “You know this isn’t—”
“Not real?” she cut in, her heart hammering. “Yeah. I know.”
The words felt wrong.
She swallowed hard. She needed to leave before she made a fool of herself.
“Thanks for the night, Dylan,” she said, turning on her heel. “But I think I’m done playing pretend.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
And then, she walked away.
Lena had her bag packed before the sun had fully risen. She had spent the night convincing herself that walking away was the right choice. No messy feelings. No unnecessary complications. Just a clean break.
But as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped into the hotel lobby, her chest felt heavier than it should. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. Maybe it was something else.
She headed toward the café, craving caffeine and distraction, but fate had other plans.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She turned the corner too fast, and suddenly—collision.
Hot coffee sloshed dangerously close to her dress as Dylan stumbled back, gripping his cup to stop the spill.
“Lena?” His voice was a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable.
She cursed under her breath. Of course. Of course, she had to run into him now.
“I was just—” she started, but Dylan wasn’t buying it.
“Leaving?” His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, searching. “Without saying anything?”
Lena exhaled, torn between pride and something that felt a lot like longing. “It was just supposed to be a one-time thing, right?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Dylan was silent for a beat, then let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough. “That’s what I thought, too.” He hesitated, then took a step closer. “Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”
Lena’s pulse stumbled. “What?”
“Last night,” he said, his voice softer now, steady, “I watched you walk away, and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want you to go.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her heart thudded against her ribs. “Dylan—”
“I don’t care about Maya,” he cut in, his tone firm, certain. “I don’t care about anyone else. I care about you.”
Lena wanted to believe him. But doubt—fear—clawed at her. “What if this is just—”
“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, seeing right through her hesitation. “You feel it, too. Don’t you?”
She swallowed hard.
Yes.
Yes, she did.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
So, for once, she stopped overthinking.
She stepped forward, reached up, and kissed him.
A kiss that was warm. Real. Nothing like pretending.
Dylan smiled against her lips. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”
Lena laughed softly. “Maybe. But only if you promise to stop getting us stuck in elevators.”
Dylan chuckled, his hand slipping easily around her waist. “No guarantees.”
And with that, Lena finally let herself fall.
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