
After Cecile’s husband, Henry, passes on, she seeks solace by moving into her son’s house. But when she gets there, her daughter-in-law makes her choose between their dark and unwelcoming basement and a nursing home. What happens when Cecile decides on another option altogether?

Losing a partner after forty years of marriage is traumatizing. Loneliness is felt immediately, but it becomes all the more consuming as time goes on. When Henry, my husband, died of a heart attack, I felt this sense of loneliness harder than anything else.
The grief took over, and all I wanted was to be around family. I have two sons, Jack and Edward – Edward moved to Oxford straight out of college because he was awarded the opportunity to further his studies. He calls me every evening just to chat about our days. Jack, on the other hand, lives not too far away from me. He is married to Lucy and has a son named after my husband.
So, now that I’m all alone in this big house Henry bought when we were just starting our family, I’ve been trying to decide whether to sell the house or live with Jack, as he offered, or move out by myself.I decided to try living with Jack. It would be the most comforting thing. But little did I know, Lucy had other plans for my accommodation. I asked my niece to pack up the place while I settled into my new home with Jack and his family. So, I was at their doorstep, suitcases at my feet
. Ready to take on the role of a live-in mother and grandmother — taking over the kitchen whenever Lucy needed me. Lucy came to open the door, a mug of coffee in her hand, and told me that their house was bursting at the seams with the limited space and that the only room available was Henry Jr.’s room. But she wasn’t about to upset the room and change it in any way. It was for Henry when he returned from his semester at college. I understood that. It was his space, and I didn’t want to be a burden.
But I had assumed that Jack would have sorted something out for me — he was the one who asked me to move in if I needed it. “Cecile, we’ve got a bit of a space issue, as you can see,” Lucy repeated. “You’ve got two options,” she continued. “There is the basement, or there’s a nursing home. Your call, grandma.” Talk about a rock and a hard place. Now, let me tell you about their basement.
It’s not the basement you may find in some homes — there’s no converted space for gaming, sewing, or arts and crafts. It’s not a den or cozy room for guests. Jack’s basement is more of a cold, humid dungeon with a bedframe that sighed at every move and a mattress with sharp springs. This was not the comfort I needed.”Lucy,” I said, shuffling my weight from one foot to the other.
“I appreciate the options, dear. But I’ll pass on the basement and nursing home combo.” Cue to my son — trying to play the peacemaker. He came up from behind Lucy, his arm around her waist. “Mom, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I invited you to stay. Lucy has a point. We’re tight on space. I promise to get some furniture for the basement to make it comfortable for you.” A basement life wasn’t for me. A nursing home wasn’t for me — at least not yet. So, I just took matters into my own hands.
I dragged my suitcases to the car and drove to my niece’s home. I stayed there for a week while looking for a place I could buy. The house was already on the market, and once it was sold, I knew I would have more than enough money to buy a small place for myself. When everything was settled, my niece helped me move in, and I felt empowered. Maybe I didn’t need family as much as I thought I did.
Edward was worried about me being alone, but I reassured him I would be fine. I moved into the new apartment soon after – a cozy one-bedroom, perfect for me and the cat I hoped to adopt. The bonus was that it came fully furnished, so I didn’t have to worry about anything.
Then, Jack phoned and asked me to dinner with him and Lucy. I drove to their home, wondering what they expected from me. We sat down for dinner, and I told them I had bought an apartment and lived there alone. “I thought you were staying with Mia,” Jack said, referring to my niece.”You can’t be serious!” Lucy exclaimed at the same time. “I did stay with Mia until I moved. I needed my own space.”
“You said that you want to be around family, so I offered,” Jack said, turning red. “Yes, but if it meant being shipped off to a nursing home or having to stay in your basement, I think I’m better off alone.” Then, I left. A few weeks later, I adopted my cat. But I also rewrote my will, leaving everything to Edward, who continues putting money into my account every month, even though I told them I didn’t need it.
“A son must help his Mom,” he said. He also asked me if I wanted to move abroad with him — but how could I? I needed to be close to where Henry rests, at least for now. So, from basement dilemmas to a cozy haven of my own, life certainly throws you for a loop. If your child gave you those options, what would you have done? Here’s another story for you: Elizabeth placed her father in a nursing home and never saw him again. She only visited him at his funeral. But the young woman’s karma caught up with her and taught her a harsh lesson when she received a letter from him after his death…
I Came Home to See My Furniture Put up for Grabs — My Ex-husband’s Petty Revenge Backfired Spectacularly

After Brendan, my husband, and I decided to split, he turned into a completely different person overnight. The man I once knew, the one I shared years of my life with, had vanished altogether.
In his place stood someone bitter and spiteful.

A couple arguing | Source: Midjourney
“You’re complaining about how I behave? About how I speak?” Brendan shouted.
“I’m just saying that you need to calm down when you’re talking to me. Screaming won’t make your point come across better,” I said, holding my head.
“Oh, please, Gina,” he bellowed louder. “You made me this way! All of your ridiculous demands and constant whining. Please, just go live your life.”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney
And so I did.
But as the divorce was in process, Brendan and I tried to sort out our things, ready to make a clean break.
“Just let me pack these things up, Gina,” Brendan said one day as he was going through my bookshelf.
“You’ll just take my things with you,” I countered. “I have to settle my own things first.”
“Suit yourself,” he said.

An angry woman standing in front of a bookshelf | Source: Midjourney
But things only got uglier. And the emotional rollercoaster had me in a constant state of nausea and uneasiness. So, I decided that I would spend the weekend at my parents’ house to clear my head.
“Yeah, run away to your parents,” Brendan said snidely as I packed an overnight bag.
“They’re better than you,” I said, walking out the door.

An angry woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
And honestly? It was the right call. I needed space to process everything, including the fact that I was going to be alone for the first time in twelve years. As much as Brendan and I needed to be apart, I couldn’t see my future clearly.
I also just wanted my parents to baby me for the weekend.
“Oh, Gina,” my mother said as she took out a tray of delicious roast lamb. “All you need to do is eat and rest. Whatever you want to eat, just tell me and I’ll make it. And if you want anything from the store, just tell Dad. He’ll do a quick run for you.”

A tray of food | Source: Midjourney
I exhaled slowly. I was exactly where I needed to be.
“Are you sure a divorce is the way to go?” my father asked me over dinner.
“Yes,” I said sadly. “I think that if there was a time to reconcile, it was a long time ago. And we definitely missed it. Brendan and I can’t see eye-to-eye anymore. I don’t think that there’s any more love left.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“You do what you need to do, baby,” my mother said. “If your mental health is screaming for a clean break, then that’s exactly what you need to do.”
I allowed myself to take long walks, taking Pippy, my parents’ dog, with me. I just wanted to clear my head and allow myself the space I needed to breathe.
“You’re doing the right thing,” I told myself. “There’s nothing wrong with a fresh start.”

A woman walking a dog | Source: Midjourney
But as I pulled into our driveway on Monday morning, ready to find Brendan and his things gone, I found something even more shocking.
All my furniture, everything that I had collected from before I met Brendan and some things while we were together, was scattered all over the lawn. A large, hand-painted sign that read “Free Stuff!” stood proudly in front of the chaos, inviting anyone passing by to help themselves to my belongings.

Furniture scattered on a lawn | Source: Midjourney
“What the actual hell is this?” I muttered, slamming the car door shut.
This just couldn’t be real. I stared at my coffee table, the couch I found at a flea market, and even my grandmother’s old rocking chair. All of it, just sitting there, baking in the sun, waiting to be snatched by strangers.
I kicked the sign so that it lay flat. And then I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking wildly as I dialed Brendan. The phone rang three times before he finally picked up.

A woman holding a phone and frowning | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, what’s up, Gina?” he answered, his voice casual, almost smug.
“What’s up?” I echoed. “What’s up?”
“Yeah, that’s what I asked,” he said.
“Are you kidding me? Why is all my furniture on the lawn? Are you absolutely out of your mind?”
There was a pause before he replied.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
“You were going to sue for all my money anyway,” he said. “I heard you on the phone with someone. I know that you wanted everything. Or at least half of everything! So you might as well know how it feels to lose what’s yours.”
I was speechless.
Sure, I had thought about taking him for a ride and having my share of his money, but the weekend away with my parents taught me to just let it go.

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
“You’re absolutely unbelievable,” I finally managed to say. “You think this is going to solve anything? You’re just making things worse for yourself.”
He scoffed loudly.
“Whatever. It’s your problem now. Maybe you should charge people for your things instead of letting them take it for free.”
I wanted to scream, but I knew that it wouldn’t do any good. Brendan had made up his mind, and like any dog with a bone, there was no reasoning with him.

An angry man on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I hung up the phone and looked at objects from my life scattered across the lawn. There was no way that I could haul all the furniture back inside by myself. Defeated and frustrated, I kicked the bedside table that I had gotten and repainted months ago.
As it hit the ground, I heard a jingling noise.
“What now?” I sighed, crouching down to open the drawer.

Hand-painted bedside tables outside | Source: Midjourney
Inside, I found something that made me smirk despite my anger.
“Stupid Brendan,” I said, seeing that he had forgotten to take his things out of the bedside table.
Nestled among the loose change, random pens, and receipts was Brendan’s father’s watch. It was a family heirloom that he loved and cherished and barely wore for fear of losing or breaking it. It had also been passed down through generations, finally landing with Brendan.

A vintage watch | Source: Midjourney
But now, I had it hostage.
“Checkmate,” I said to myself.
I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction as I tucked the watch into my pocket. After all, he was the one who had put it out there for free. I wasn’t stealing anything.
Then, I texted my friend group, asking everyone who was available to come and help me take everything back into the house.

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
“Brendan is the worst, Gina,” my friend, Jenny, said holding a lamp. “This is a new low.”
“Yeah, I agree with you there,” I said. “But don’t worry, I’ve got a way to get back at him.”
I told her all about the watch and how I had it safely tucked away in my car. I knew that it was just a matter of time before Brendan realized that the watch wasn’t with him.

A woman holding a standing lamp | Source: Midjourney
Later that evening, as I was arranging the last of the furniture, my phone buzzed. It was him.
“Hey, Gina,” he said. “I think I might have left something important behind. Can I come by and grab it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, grabbing another slice of pizza from the box in front of me.
“Please,” he said. “It’s just the bedside tables.”

A box of pizza | Source: Midjourney
“Look, the neighbors came over and took a few things. The bedside tables are gone, too. But if you’re polite enough, I’m sure Cathy will sell it back to you.”
There was a long pause.
“Gina, it’s my dad’s watch. My granddad’s watch. I really need it back.”
I let the silence stretch out for a moment before saying anything.
“I see. Well, like I said, it’s with Cathy. But I’m sure she’ll be reasonable. You know, for the right price.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
He knew I was bluffing. I could hear it in his voice. But there was no way that he could prove it, and I wasn’t about to let him off the hook easily. Nope. Brendan needed to fight for it.
“How much?” he asked.
“How much do you think it’s worth?” I asked. “A few hundred dollars, maybe?”
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just get it back.”

An upset man | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll do my best, but no promises.”
After hanging up, I held the watch and turned it over in my hands. If we had a son, he would have been handed the watch. But thankfully, we were splitting before we had a chance to think about kids.
The next morning, Brendan showed up while I was sitting on the porch and drinking a cup of coffee.
“Here,” he said, giving me an envelope. “$500. But you know how priceless it is.”

A woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney
I nodded.
“Thanks. You can leave now,” I said.
“I’ll get in touch with you about the divorce. My lawyer has some things to discuss with us.”
“Cool,” I said simply.
Brendan did a double-take, but he took the watch from me and walked away slowly, almost as if he wanted to say something but just couldn’t get the words out.

A man walking down the driveway | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
In-Law Billed Me $695 for Moth Damage after Using My House like a Storage Unit – I Gave Her a Reality Check
For five years, Andy and Sarah had given up their guest bedroom, turning it into a storage room for her parents’ belongings. But once the couple discovered that they were pregnant, they asked the older couple to remove their things, causing unnecessary friction and a surprise reward.
Five years ago, my in-laws just wanted to downsize their house. So, they set out to look for the perfect little house just for the two of them.
“We have too much space and too many things,” my father-in-law, Greg, said.

A cozy living room | Source: Midjourney
So, naturally, they asked if they could store some of their stuff in our house for a while.
“It’s just the things that we want to keep, darling,” Greg told my wife, Sarah.
We both didn’t mind it, and we had a guest room that we didn’t use.

A stack of cardboard boxes | Source: Midjourney
“Sure, Dad,” my wife said. “The guest room is all yours temporarily.”
The key word here is temporarily.
But guess what? They never took their stuff back. Instead, they just kept bringing more.

A growing stack of boxes | Source: Midjourney
For a while, Sarah and I used to joke about the guest room and how it had turned into a storage unit in our own home.

A person using a vacuum cleaner | Source: Midjourney
Read the full story here.
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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