Sophie was enjoying a delightful evening with family when her grandmother, Evelyn, decided to drop a bombshell. Evelyn’s announcement went beyond the ordinary. To get her inheritance, Sophie needed to get married within a month—in time for Evelyn’s upcoming birthday!
The living room was noisy as the whole family gathered at Evelyn’s large, old-fashioned house. With her pink clothes, she was always a vibrant character. For years, her energy was unmatched.
“Everyone, I need your attention!” Evelyn’s voice rang out, commanding silence. Her eyes sparkled as she surveyed her gathered relatives. The chatter ceased, and all eyes turned to her.
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“Sophie,” Evelyn began, her gaze fixed on her granddaughter, who sat uncomfortably under her family’s eyes.
“You have dedicated your life to your career, which is commendable. But you’ve paid a price by neglecting our cherished family values.”
Sophie shifted in her seat, her expression one of slight annoyance. She knew this conversation was coming. Her grandmother’s values were from a different time, after all.
Evelyn continued, “I stand before you as the last guardian of our family’s traditions, and it pains me to see them so easily cast aside.” Her words hung heavily in the air: “That is why I have decided, unless Sophie can find a husband by the time I turn 70 next month, she will not be included in my will.”
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Sophie’s face turned pale, eyes wide in shock as the room fell eerily silent.
“Grandma, you can’t be serious,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but Evelyn’s face remained resolute.
“I am utterly serious, Sophie,” Evelyn responded sternly. “I cannot pass on my legacy to someone who shows no interest in continuing our family line.”
Her voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
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Sophie’s frustration boiled over as she stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“I’ve spent years building my career, investing time and energy to become who I am today,” she protested, her voice rising with each word. “And now, just because I haven’t married, you want to cut me off from the inheritance? That’s not fair!”
Evelyn looked up at her granddaughter, her expression unyielding.
“Life is about choices, Sophie. You chose your path, and now I am choosing mine.”
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Stung by the harsh reality of her grandmother’s words, Sophie felt a surge of emotion. She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a loud bang that echoed through the quiet house. She sat in her car, crying out in the night silence.
***
Sophie approached her grandmother’s challenge like another task at work, thus tackling it with due diligence.
She threw herself into the dating world, setting up profiles on several online dating sites, attending speed dating events, and even letting her friends set her up on blind dates. However, her experiences ranged from bizarre to downright disastrous.
One evening, she met Jason, who seemed charming at first. As they sat in a cozy restaurant, Jason leaned in.
“Do you know that the moon landing was staged?” he whispered conspiratorially. Sophie choked on her drink, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. The date went downhill as Jason delved deeper into his conspiracy theories.
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Then she met Peter, who talked at length about his collection of exotic reptiles.
“And here’s a photo of my pets, Monty and Tweedy!” he exclaimed, showing Sophie pictures of his cat and dog on his shelf. Sophie smiled politely, her interest waning by the second.
Each date left Sophie more disillusioned. During a date at a quaint coffee shop, she slipped into managerial mode, discussing revenue streams and market dynamics, completely missing her date’s glazed-over expression.
These failed attempts and each awkward goodbye underscored her growing despair. She was utterly unprepared for this unpredictable world of dating.
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***
Back at the office, Sophie was scrolling through her phone, her latest date yet another letdown. She sighed and turned to Steven, her reliable assistant, who was busy organizing files.
“Steven, can we talk?” Sophie’s tone was serious.
“Sure, what’s up?” Steven asked, attentive.
Sophie hesitated, then blurted out, “I need a huge favor. I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a week.”
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She rushed on, “I’ll pay you, of course.”
Steven blinked, taken aback. “Pretend to be your boyfriend? Sophie, are you sure about this?”
“It’s just a week to get my grandmother off my back,” Sophie explained hastily. “We can call it off right after her birthday party.”
Seeing her distress, Steven agreed, albeit reluctantly. “Okay, I’ll do it. But let’s make it believable, at least.”
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They started spending more time together, exchanging basic information like favorite foods and hobbies.
Sophie, ever the perfectionist, turned their casual chats into intense interrogations about Steven’s background, his views on marriage, and even his credit score.
Realizing they needed a different approach, Steven suggested, “How about we spend this weekend at my cousin’s lake house? Just relax, be ourselves. It might help us be more convincing.”
Sophie agreed to Steven’s suggestion.
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***
“Okay, Steven, how hard can this be?” Sophie asked with a laugh, tying an apron around her waist as they stood in the small, rustic kitchen of the lake house. They were both attempting to cook dinner, an activity neither was exceptionally skilled at.
“According to my cousin, just throw everything in the pot and hope for the best,” Steven replied, chopping vegetables.
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The pot simmered on the stove while they tried their luck fishing by the lake. Standing side by side with fishing rods, they quickly realized they needed more talent for it. After several failed attempts, Sophie burst out laughing. “Why are we so bad at this?”
“It’s about spending time together, isn’t it?” Steven smiled in answer.
As night fell, they sat by a small fire pit, wrapped in warm blankets and sharing stories of their childhoods.
“You know, I used to think being strong meant doing everything alone,” Sophie confessed, her voice soft against the crackling of the fire. “But this… this is nice. Sharing moments, I mean.”
Steven nodded, passing her a marshmallow to roast.
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“Yeah, life’s better with good company. Even if it’s just roasting marshmallows and failing at fishing.”
By the end of the weekend, as they packed up to leave, Sophie realized she enjoyed Steven’s company far beyond the confines of their initial agreement.
“It’s strange,” Sophie mused as they drove back, “how a weekend can change so much.”
The atmosphere on their way home was warm and relaxed. Steven finally felt comfortable in the friendly setting and opened up about his dreams.
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“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he started, navigating the winding road. “This weekend helped me realize how much I want to pursue my dreams. I’ve always wanted to start my own business. Maybe a bakery or a café.”
Despite the warmth of their shared weekend, her initial self-interest shadowed her reaction. She remained silent, keeping her concerns to herself, not wanting to discourage him, and dreading the potential disruption to her plans.
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***
Sophie and Steven arrived at Evelyn’s elegant home, where Evelyn had organized a formal dinner to meet Steven, whom she had heard much about. The house was aglow with soft lights, and a gentle aroma of roasted meats and seasoned vegetables filled the air.
As they walked in, Evelyn greeted them with a beaming smile.
“Steven, I’m so pleased to meet you at last,” she exclaimed, offering a hand that Steven shook warmly.
“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. It’s an honor to be here,” Steven responded, his voice carrying genuine respect.
Steven was the epitome of charm and grace during the dinner, effortlessly engaging with other guests and sharing amusing anecdotes that brought smiles.
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Sophie, however, seemed distant. Despite the cozy atmosphere, her interactions with Steven were cold and formal, contrasting with the warmth they had shared over their weekend getaway.
After dinner, Evelyn noticed their tension as they retreated to the living room for dessert. She decided to find out what was going on.
“Sophie tells me you two had a wonderful weekend at the lake house, Steven. It must have been quite the getaway.” Her eyes twinkled with curiosity.
Steven glanced at Sophie, a hint of warmth in his expression.
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“Yes, it was amazing. We got to know each other beyond work.”
Sophie’s response was curt, almost dismissive. “It was a nice break,” she said, avoiding Steven’s eyes.
Sophie’s behavior puzzled Evelyn when Steven’s earnestness spoke volumes. As he excused himself to fetch some appetizers, Evelyn paused to talk privately with Sophie.
“Sophie, dear, what’s going on? I can see Steven cares deeply. Don’t play with his feelings,” Evelyn whispered, her voice stern yet concerned.
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Sophie masked her surprise with a feigned smile.
“Grandma, everything is fine. Steven and I are pleased. He’s even thinking about proposing soon,” she lied, hoping to appease her grandmother.
Evelyn, however, was only partially convinced. She nodded slowly, her doubts quietly mounting.
At that very moment, Steven reappeared, holding a plate of snacks. His timing was such that he likely overheard the conversation. His demeanor changed for the rest of the evening; he became quieter and more reserved.
When it was time to say goodbye, he nodded to Sophie and left without a word, his silence heavy with unspoken thoughts.
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***
The following day, the office felt colder and emptier. Sophie soon discovered why: Steven had resigned. He came to collect his belongings.
“I thought we were getting closer, Steven. What happened?” Sophie asked in confusion.
Steven sighed, his frustration evident.
“After the weekend, I thought we had something real. But you shut down and returned to treating me just as an assistant.”
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Sophie looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry, Steven. I just… I got scared.”
Steven shook his head, his decision firm.
“I need more than this, Sophie. And I can’t accept your money for the charade.”
He picked up his box, his shoulders set as he walked away, leaving Sophie alone with her regrets.
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***
Sophie spent the morning before Evelyn’s birthday party lost in thought, meticulously choosing her outfit, each piece selected to reflect a blend of respect and celebration.
As she dressed, her mind was awash with memories of Steven—their weekend at the lake, the arguments, the confessions, and finally, his resignation. The intensity of her feelings surprised her; she hadn’t realized just how deeply she had fallen for him until he was gone.
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When Sophie arrived at the party, her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Steven mingling among the guests. Ever the astute matriarch, Evelyn, had extended the invitation to Steven, a gesture that spoke volumes of her fondness for him.
Sophie’s nervousness was palpable as she approached him, her palms sweaty, her heart pounding.
“Steven,” she began, shaky but sincere, “I owe you a huge apology.” She took a deep breath, gathering her courage.
“The truth is, I missed you terribly. But it’s more than that. Our pretending… it turned into something real for me. I feel for you, genuinely and deeply. I’m so sorry for all the deception—it started about my grandmother’s will, but it became about so much more.”
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Steven’s expression, initially guarded, softened as he listened to her words.
“Sophie,” he replied gently, “I forgive you. I was part of the charade, too, remember? I agreed because… well because I’ve had feelings for you for quite a while. I thought this might allow us to explore if something could be real between us.”
Evelyn had been quietly observing their moment of reconciliation until she chose to join them, her approach soft yet deliberate. She took a seat opposite Sophie, her eyes glinting with wisdom and a bit of mischief.
“Sophie, you’ve finally not disappointed me,” Evelyn said, a warm smile spreading across her face. “You’ve come to realize what truly matters. That’s why I’ll leave the inheritance to you and whatever family you build.”
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Her voice grew tender, “I never intended to follow through if you married just to meet the will’s conditions. I know you well enough, my dear. It wouldn’t have been right. All this was a test, a push to get you to look beyond your career achievements.”
Before the conversation could dip into awkward silence, Steven, ever the peacemaker, made a light-hearted announcement.
“And speaking of new beginnings, I’ve opened my own bakery.” His face lit up with pride.
“I’ve also baked a special birthday cake for tonight. It would mean a lot to me if everyone could come by the bakery sometime to enjoy some coffee and cake.”
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The evening unfolded with a celebratory air, the earlier tensions dissolving into laughter and shared stories. Friends and family gathered around, their conversations filled with admiration for Steven’s culinary skills and warm wishes for Evelyn’s continued health and happiness.
Evelyn watched the young couple, her heart full, knowing her unconventional method had ultimately led her granddaughter to reassess her priorities and embrace a future where personal connections held more weight than professional achievements.
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Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Corinne was at a speed dating event. Frustrated by her failed relationships, she watched how men boasted about their material worlds one by one. But the next candidate caught her attention. He was interested in Corinne’s world. The intrigue grew when the stranger offered her to travel together.
Woman Arrives at the Farm She Inherited from Her Grandfather to Sell It, but a Farmhand Stands in Her Way — Story of the Day
Rebecca arrives at the farm she inherited, ready to sell it and move on. But a stubborn farmhand refuses to let her make an easy sale. He challenges her at every turn, forcing her to confront not just him but the memories and responsibilities she thought she left behind. Their clash will decide the farm’s fate.
Early in the morning, Rebecca got into her car, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. This wasn’t part of her usual routine, but something unexpected had come up, and she had to deal with it.
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Leaving her small business in the hands of her assistant, she set off on a long drive, heading out of the busy city.
Rebecca was on her way to her late grandfather’s farm, which he had left to her in his will. She hadn’t been there in years. As a child, she spent summers there, running around and playing, but once she grew older her visits stopped.
Rebecca always assumed her grandfather would pass the farm on to one of his workers, someone who truly needed it. Now, she had no intention of running it herself. Her plan was simple—check things out, find a buyer, and sell it as quickly as possible.
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Rebecca parked near the farmhouse and stepped out, glancing around. As she turned, she noticed a man on the porch. He stood up quickly, smiling.
“Hey there,” he said. “You must be my new boss. I’m Derek.” He stepped forward, offering his hand.
Rebecca shook it, frowning slightly. Something about him seemed familiar. “Hi, Derek. But you’ve got it wrong. I’m not your boss.”
Derek tilted his head. “Well then, may I at least know the name of my non-boss?”
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“Oh,” Rebecca said, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself. “I’m Rebecca.”
“Wait a minute. Are you the same Rebecca who let all the chickens out so the dog could have fun?” He chuckled.
Rebecca’s eyes widened as the memory came back. Derek was the son of one of her grandfather’s workers, and they used to play together when she was little. “And you’re the same Derek who taught me to chase them with a slingshot?”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. They both laughed, easing the tension.
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Derek’s expression grew serious. “So, what do you mean you’re not my boss? The farm was left to you, right?”
Rebecca’s smile faded. “Yes, but I don’t plan to keep it. I’m here to sell it.”
“What? Sell it? To who?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said, shrugging. “Whoever wants to buy it.”
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“Even if they tear it down?” he asked.
“Well… yes.”
Derek stepped closer, his voice rising. “How could you do that? Your grandfather spent his life on this farm! It was everything to him.”
Rebecca felt a pang of guilt but tried to stand her ground. “He’s gone, Derek. And I have my own life. Being a farmer wasn’t part of my plan.”
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Derek’s eyes searched hers. “What about the animals? The people who work here? You’re just going to let them lose everything?”
She hesitated. “The new owner will handle that.”
Derek’s face darkened. “You don’t care at all, do you?”
“I care. It’s just… not my responsibility anymore,” she said quietly, turning to walk toward the house.
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Derek’s voice followed her. “You heartless witch!”
Rebecca winced but didn’t turn back. She quickened her pace, heading inside, trying to ignore the doubts his words stirred.
The next morning, Rebecca was startled awake by a knock on her door. She groggily got up and opened it to find a man standing on the porch.
“Good morning, Rebecca,” he said, nodding politely. “I’m Travis. I manage the fields here. Something’s happened, and I think you’ll want to see it.”
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Rebecca rubbed her eyes. “Morning. Just give me a moment to get dressed.”
She quickly threw on the first clothes she found, then followed Travis outside. They walked through the farm until they reached one of the main fields. Rebecca’s heart sank when she saw the crops. They looked weak, wilted, and sickly.
“What’s wrong with them?” she asked.
Travis sighed, his expression grim. “Hard to say. Maybe someone spread something to damage them. Could be competitors. But if we don’t act fast, we’ll lose the entire crop.”
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Rebecca’s face tightened. “I don’t care. I’m selling the farm. That’s my plan.”
Travis glanced at her. “You’d get a lot more money if you sold it as a working farm. Not just land.”
Rebecca knew he had a point. She hesitated, then asked, “So, what do you need from me?”
“I need an extra worker. One of our guys is out sick, and we don’t have enough hands,” Travis explained.
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“Alright,” Rebecca said. “I’ll find someone to help.”
Rebecca spent the entire day making phone calls, trying to find someone to hire. She went through a long list of contacts, but every answer was the same—nobody was available.
By evening, she was exhausted, her energy completely drained. She felt like a squeezed lemon, with nothing left to give.
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Tired and frustrated, Rebecca found herself wandering toward the stables. She remembered how, as a child, she would sit there for hours, surrounded by the soft sounds of the horses.
It always calmed her. She gently petted their noses, fed them some hay, and felt a wave of comfort wash over her. She sighed, thinking, who would have imagined this farm could bring her so many problems?
“Oh, I didn’t know princesses visited stables,” Derek said, his tone icy as he stepped inside.
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Rebecca turned, frowning. “What’s with the attitude?”
Derek folded his arms. “How else should I talk to someone who doesn’t care?”
“For your information, I spent all day trying to find a worker for Travis,” she snapped. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself, but his accusation stung.
Derek’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “So you can sell the farm for a better price. That’s what Travis said.”
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Rebecca rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt building inside her.
“I can help Travis,” Derek said, “but I need support with the livestock. That’s my job.”
“There’s no one available to work,” she said.
Derek stepped closer, his gaze steady. “You could help.”
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Rebecca blinked, surprised. “Me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Or are your hands too soft for real work?”
“I know how to work,” she shot back. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever really known how to do.”
“Good,” Derek said, turning toward the door. “Then it’s settled.”
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Rebecca stood there, still processing, as he walked away, wondering how she’d just agreed to help.
For the next few weeks, Rebecca found herself doing things she never expected. She woke up early each morning, pulling on boots and gloves, ready to work. She helped the workers in the fields, fed the animals, and even joined them in the kitchen, cooking meals after long days.
At first, she thought it would be a struggle, but the workers were patient and kind, teaching her the tasks step by step. They treated her like part of the team, and she started to see how much they cared about the farm.
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Rebecca began to question if selling the farm was the right decision. Every night, she fell into bed exhausted, but it was a different kind of tiredness. The farm, once just a burden, was slowly becoming a place she was starting to care about.
One evening, as she walked back to the house, she spotted something unusual—small surveillance cameras mounted on poles, pointing straight at the field. Why hadn’t she noticed them before?
After asking around, she learned from Sarah, a longtime farm worker, where to access the footage. Sarah brought it to the house, and Rebecca started watching the recordings.
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She fast-forwarded until she found what she was looking for—footage of someone sneaking through the field, scattering a strange powder over the crops. The image was blurry at first, but then the figure’s face came into view. Rebecca’s heart dropped. It was Derek.
Furious, she slammed her laptop shut and stormed out of the house. Without thinking, she marched straight toward Derek’s cabin, her mind spinning.
Rebecca stormed up to Derek’s door. When he opened it, she held out her laptop, the screen showing the footage. “Care to explain this?!” she snapped.
Derek sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I was trying to delay the sale,” he said.
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“So you decided to destroy the farm?!” Rebecca yelled, her voice shaking.
“I didn’t destroy it,” Derek replied. “I slowed things down. It worked. I know you’ve started to care.”
“You can’t just do that, Derek! People had to work harder because of you!” she shouted.
“I thought you didn’t care about the people here,” he said. “I wanted to make you see what this farm means.”
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Rebecca felt a sting in his words, but she refused to back down. “But you messed up! I don’t care! That’s why I’m selling it—to the first buyer who shows up!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she turned and stormed away, leaving Derek standing there.
Two days later, two businessmen arrived at the farm. Rebecca greeted them with a polite smile and led them on a tour, showing them the fields, the barns, and the house. She kept her tone professional, trying to stay detached.
After the tour, Ryan, one of the men, said, “We’re ready to buy it.”
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Rebecca felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “Great! When can we sign the contract?” she asked.
“Right now,” said the other man, Tom. “We brought our lawyer with us.”
Rebecca nodded and led them inside. They sat at the dining table, and the lawyer set the papers down. She picked up the pen, but her hand froze. Something didn’t feel right. “You’re buying the farm to run it, right?” she asked.
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“Not exactly,” Ryan replied. “We plan to build a factory here. Is that a problem?”
Rebecca’s stomach twisted. She hesitated, but forced a smile. “No, no problem.” Her eyes drifted to the wall. A childhood photo of her and her grandfather hung there—she was feeding a calf, smiling wide. She took a deep breath, pushing the papers closer. Slowly, she prepared to sign.
After fifteen minutes, Rebecca walked Ryan, Tom, and their lawyer out of the house. She spotted Derek sitting under a tree, watching. Tom shook her hand. “Well, good luck,” he said. Ryan did the same, and then they drove off.
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Derek got up and walked over. “Congratulations,” he said flatly. “The farm’s no longer your problem. How much did you sell it for?”
Rebecca looked at him. “I changed my mind.”
“What?” Derek’s eyes widened, confused.
“I’m not selling it,” she repeated.
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Derek’s frown melted into a smile. “Really?”
“Don’t get too happy,” she said, trying to stay serious. “I’m a demanding boss. My employees usually avoid me.”
Derek suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, catching her off guard. After a moment, she realized what was happening and hugged him back, feeling something warm and hopeful stir inside her.
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Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything. Read the full story here.
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. If you would like to share your story
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