I nodded eagerly, ignoring the eye rolls from my uncle across the room. He never understood why I bothered with the “old lady”.
“You’re wasting your summer, Em,” my Uncle Bill muttered. “Why don’t you come to the beach with us instead?”
I shot him a glare. “Because I actually care about my Grandma, Uncle Bill. You should try it sometime.”
As Grandma and I pruned the roses together, I couldn’t help but notice how her hands shook slightly. She was getting older, and it scared me.
“Grandma,” I gently said. “You know I love you, right?”
She paused, looking at me with those kind eyes. “Of course, sweetheart. And I love you too. More than you could ever know.”
As we headed inside, I hugged her tightly, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and home-baked cookies clinging to her dress. Little did I know, this moment of peace was the calm before the storm.
“Emily,” Grandma said, her voice suddenly serious. “Promise me something. No matter what happens, always stay true to yourself.”
I pulled back, confused. “Of course, Grandma. But why are you saying this?”
She just smiled, that familiar twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand someday, my dear. Now, how about we bake some cookies?”
A week before Grandma’s 89th birthday, everything changed. Dad came home, his face ashen.
“Emily,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Grandma’s in the hospital. The doctors… they said she’s lost her hearing.”
My world shattered. How could this happen? Just yesterday, we were laughing over her childhood stories.
“But… but she was fine!” I protested, tears welling up in my eyes. “We were gardening and baking and…”
Dad pulled me into a hug. “I know, sweetheart. It happened suddenly. The doctors said it’s not uncommon at her age.”
Despite the diagnosis, we decided to throw Grandma a birthday party anyway. She deserved it, deaf or not.
“We’ll make it special,” Mom said, her voice brimming with love and determination. “Emily, why don’t you make a photo album? I’m sure Grandma would love that.”
I smiled, wiping away my tears as I helped Mom set the table for dinner. “Yeah, I’ll do that. She always loved looking at old pictures.”
Fast forward to Grandma’s 89th birthday celebration, the party was in full swing, but something felt off. I sat next to Grandma, showing her pictures on my phone, when I overheard my Uncle Bill’s booming voice.
“If the house doesn’t get to us, I’m gonna fight for it in court. Don’t you understand that she’s already old and stupid?” he hissed, looking unkindly at Grandma.
I froze, my blood running cold. How could he say that about Grandma?
Aunt Sarah chimed in, her voice dripping with disdain. “Oh yeah, brother! Her words can’t be trusted. I can’t really wait to get that lovely farmhouse she owns in Boston.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. These were the same people who’d smiled and hugged Grandma just moments ago.
“Hey!” I shouted, my face burning with anger. “How can you talk about Grandma like that?”
Uncle Bill sneered at me. “Zip it up, you silly little girl. This is grown-up talk.”
I looked at Grandma, expecting to see hurt in her eyes. But instead, I saw… a glimmer of something else. Was it… amusement?
I shook my head, dismissing the thought. The poor thing couldn’t hear them, and in a way, I was glad. Their cruel words would have broken her heart.
“You okay, Grandma?” I asked, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t hear me.
She patted my hand and smiled.
Later that night, after everyone had gone home, I found Grandma sitting in her favorite armchair, staring out the window.
“Grandma?” I said softly, approaching her.
To my surprise, she turned to look at me. “Emily, dear. Come sit with me.”
I froze. “Grandma? You… you can hear me?”
She chuckled, that familiar twinkle in her eye. “Sweetie, I know everything. Who said I was completely deaf? I can hear faintly.”
My jaw dropped. “But… but at the party… Uncle Bill and Aunt Sarah…”
“I know what they said,” she sighed. “And I know they’re all waiting for me to die.”
I hugged her tightly, tears streaming down my face. “I’m so sorry, Grandma. They’re horrible!”
She wiped my tears away. “Don’t cry, my dear. We’re going to teach them a lesson they’ll never forget.”
Over the next few days, Grandma and I plotted our plan. I bought some small recorders, and we set about capturing the true nature of our relatives.
“Remember, Emily,” Grandma said as we worked. “This isn’t about revenge. It’s about revealing the truth.”
I nodded, though part of me couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction at the thought of exposing their true colors.
As we captured more and more of my aunts’ and uncles’ cruel words, my heart shattered into a million pieces. Their voices, dripping with greed and mockery, filled the tiny recorders:
“I can’t wait for the old bat to kick the bucket already.”
“Maybe we should help her along, you know? It’s for her own good.”
“God, why won’t she just die already? I’ve got plans for that beach house.”
Each word was like a knife twisting in my gut.
I looked at Grandma, her weathered hands trembling slightly as she listened. Her eyes, once so bright and full of life, now glistened with unshed tears.
“How can they be so heartless?” I whispered. “Grandma, these are your children. How can they say such awful things?”
Grandma reached out and squeezed my hand, her touch as gentle as ever. “Oh, my sweet Emily,” she murmured, her voice quavering. “Sometimes, the people who should love us the most are the ones who hurt us the deepest.”
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. How could they do this to the woman who had loved them, raised them, and given them everything? Now they were circling like vultures, eagerly awaiting her death.
“Doesn’t it hurt you, Grandma?” I asked her.
She smiled sadly. “Of course it does, dear. But it also shows me who truly cares. And that’s worth more than any wealth. Remember… love is the greatest inheritance.”
A week later, Grandma passed away peacefully in her sleep. I was devastated. The funeral was a somber affair, with relatives shedding crocodile tears while eyeing Grandma’s possessions.
“Such a tragedy,” Aunt Sarah sniffled, her eyes darting around the room. “I’ll miss her so much.”
I bit my tongue, knowing what was coming.
Three days after the funeral, we all gathered at the lawyer’s office for the reading of the will.
Mr. Thompson, our family lawyer, cleared his throat. “Before we begin, I have a special request from Mrs. Rosalind.”
He placed seven small boxes and envelopes on the table, each labeled with a name. Everyone except me had one.
“Emily,” Mr. Thompson said, “your grandmother left something different for you.”
My heart raced as I watched my relatives tear into their boxes. Each one contained a small recorder.
Uncle Bill pressed play first. His own voice filled the room: “I can’t wait for the old bat to kick the bucket already.”
Aunt Sarah’s recorder was next: “God, why won’t she just die already? I’ve got plans for that beach house.”
One by one, each recorder played back the nasty things they’d said about Grandma. The color drained from their faces as they realized the truth.
Oh, you petty things! Grandma hadn’t been deaf at all.
“YOU!” Uncle Bill pointed at me, his face red with anger. “You did this!”
I stood my ground. “No, Uncle Bill. You did this to yourself. All of you did.”
As the last recording finished, I couldn’t help but smile. Grandma had outsmarted them all.
“Emily,” Mr. Thompson said, handing me an envelope. “This is for you.”
With shaking hands, I opened it. Inside was a letter in Grandma’s elegant handwriting:
“My dearest Emily,
You were the only one who saw me for who I was, not what I had. Your love was pure and unconditional. That’s why I’m leaving everything to you. Use it wisely, and always remember: love is the greatest inheritance of all.
Love,
Grandma”
Tears streamed down my face as I clutched the letter to my chest. I realized that Grandma had given me something far more valuable than money or property. She’d taught me the true meaning of love and family.
As for my relatives? They each received an envelope containing a single dollar and a note that read: “Hope this would be enough! Good luck!”
The aftermath was chaotic. Uncle Bill threatened to contest the will, but Mr. Thompson shut him down quickly.
“Mrs. Rosalind was of sound mind when she made this will,” he said firmly. “And given the evidence we’ve just heard, I’d say her decisions were well-founded.”
As we left the office, my Dad pulled me aside. “Emily, I’m so proud of you. And I’m sorry I didn’t see what was happening sooner.”
I hugged him tight. “It’s okay, Dad. Grandma knew you loved her. That’s what matters.”
It’s been ten years since that day, and I still miss my Grandma terribly. But her final lesson stays with me: love your family unconditionally, because nothing in this world is permanent. Not money, not property. Just love.
And remember, sometimes the quietest voices have the most to say. Listen closely… you never know what you might learn.
I Asked My Husband for Money for Office Clothes After Maternity Leave — He Replied, ‘Get a Job as a Cleaner, You Don’t Need Fancy Clothes There’
Sometimes, life hands you lemons in the form of a careless husband. When mine suggested I become a cleaner instead of buying new work clothes, I took his advice. But I did it with a twist he never saw coming.
The worst part about betrayal? It always comes from someone you trust.
I went on maternity leave a year ago, completely devoting myself to our son, Ethan.
A woman holding her baby | Source: Pexels
Late-night feedings, endless diaper changes, keeping our house together, making sure Tyler always had a hot meal waiting after work… I did it all.
And honestly? I didn’t mind. Being a mom was challenging but rewarding in ways my office job never was.
The tiny smiles and the first giggles… they just filled my heart with joy I can never explain in words.
A toddler sitting on the floor | Source: Pexels
But after a year, it was time for me to go back to work. I was actually excited. I missed adult conversations that didn’t revolve around baby food. I missed feeling like more than just a mom.
Except, there was a problem.
“Tyler, none of my work clothes fit anymore,” I said one evening while folding laundry. Ethan was finally down for the night, and Tyler was sitting on the couch.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I sighed, holding up a pencil skirt that used to be my go-to office staple. “I mean, my body changed after having your child. I’ve tried everything in my closet, and nothing fits right anymore.”
“So? Just wear something else.”
“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t have anything else. I need to buy a few new outfits for the office.” I sat beside him on the couch. “I was hoping we could use some of our savings for that.”
That’s when he gave me the look that made me feel like I was asking for something out of this world.
A close-up shot of a man’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Do you have any idea how much daycare is going to cost?” he asked. “Plus, all the baby expenses? Your job barely covers those costs as it is.”
“It’s just a few outfits, Tyler. I can’t exactly go back to work without clothes.”
That’s when he said it.
“Your job costs us a lot. Just get a job as a cleaner. You don’t need fancy clothes for that.”
I couldn’t believe his words.
Had he really just said that? This man whom I’d been making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for? The one whose laundry I’d been doing? Whose baby I’d been taking care of 24/7 while he continued his career without interruption?
A close-up shot of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
“A cleaner?” I repeated.
Tyler shrugged. “It’s practical. Better hours for childcare too.”
I had sacrificed my body, my sleep, and my career momentum for our family. And now, when I needed something basic to continue moving forward, he couldn’t even be bothered to support me.
Instead of yelling at him, I just smiled and said, “You’re right, babe. I’ll figure something out.”
And I did.
But not in the way he expected.
A man in his house | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t about to beg for basic respect or a few new shirts.
Instead, I followed his suggestion and got a job as a cleaner.
But not just anywhere.
I applied at his office.
Tyler works at a prestigious corporate law firm downtown. When I discovered they needed part-time cleaning staff through a job listing online, it felt like the universe was handing me exactly what I needed.
A woman looking for a job on her laptop | Source: Pexels
Within a week, I was hired for the evening shift, which worked perfectly with our childcare situation. My mother was more than happy to watch Ethan for a few hours in the evening, especially when I explained what I was doing. She never did like Tyler much.
The best part? Tyler had no idea.
He assumed I was taking night classes to “improve my skills,” as I’d vaguely mentioned. He never asked for details, which was another sign of how little he actually cared about my aspirations.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
For three weeks, I worked the cleaning shift, making sure to avoid the floor where Tyler’s office was located. I needed to pick the right moment.
The perfect opportunity presented itself when I learned through office gossip that Tyler would be hosting an important client meeting on Wednesday evening.
The cleaning schedule had me on his floor that night, and I made no requests to change it.
Documents on a table | Source: Midjourney
When Wednesday arrived, I walked into his office in my gray uniform, hair pulled back in a simple ponytail and wearing minimal makeup.
I pushed my cleaning cart deliberately, the squeaky wheel announcing my presence before I even reached his door.
Tyler was in the middle of presenting something to a group of five people seated around his conference table when I entered to empty the trash bins. I kept my head down initially, methodically going about my work, but I could feel the moment his eyes landed on me.
The confident flow of his presentation stuttered to a halt mid-sentence.
A man standing in a meeting room | Source: Midjourney
“And the quarterly projections show—” His voice cracked. “The projections show that… I’m sorry, excuse me for a second.”
I continued working, moving to the bin beside his desk, feeling his stare burning into my back.
“Marilyn?” he finally spoke up. “What are you doing here?”
I turned and smiled politely. “Oh, hello, sir. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.”
The blood drained from his face so quickly I thought he might pass out. Meanwhile, the clients and his colleagues looked between us in confusion.
Men sitting in an office | Source: Pexels
Then, one of his coworkers, who had seen me at company events before, spoke up. “Wait, this is your wife? What’s she doing here?”
Tyler stammered. “I… I don’t know. Marilyn, what are you doing?”
I maintained my composure, standing straight with dignity despite the uniform. “Oh, I just took my husband’s wonderful advice! He suggested that since my old job was too costly with childcare and professional clothing, being a cleaner would be more practical. No dress code to worry about. To be honest, it’s actually been quite educational.”
The room fell silent.
Every eye turned to Tyler, whose face had now gone from pale to flushed with embarrassment.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
His boss, Mr. Calloway, raised an eyebrow. “Your husband told you to be a cleaner instead of continuing your career?”
I shrugged with an innocent smile. “Well, he said my previous job was too expensive because I needed new clothes after having our baby. He thought this would be a better fit for me.”
Mr. Calloway’s expression hardened as he looked at Tyler.
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
The atmosphere in the room had completely changed.
“Marilyn, can we discuss this at home?” Tyler whispered. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Of course,” I replied cheerfully. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your important meeting. I’ll just finish up here and be on my way. You gentlemen have a wonderful evening.”
As I pushed my cart toward the door, I heard Mr. Calloway say, “Let’s take a fifteen-minute break, shall we?”
That told me Tyler was in for an uncomfortable conversation.
A boss talking to an employee | Source: Midjourney
But I wasn’t done yet. This was just the beginning.
Over the following weeks, I made sure to be exceptionally diligent at my job. I always cleaned Tyler’s office last, timing it perfectly so his coworkers would still be around wrapping up their day.
I smiled sweetly whenever someone asked about my presence there, and I made a point of thanking Tyler loudly for his “amazing career advice” whenever we crossed paths.
Back-view shot of a woman working as a cleaner | Source: Midjourney
One day, Tyler tried to talk to me about it at home.
“This has gone on long enough,” he insisted. “You’ve made your point. This is embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing for whom?” I asked calmly. “I’m following your suggestion. I thought you’d be proud of me for being so practical.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “It was just a comment. I was stressed about money.”
A man looking down | Source: Midjourney
“Funny how your ‘just comments’ always seem to minimize me and my needs,” I chuckled. “And funnier still how my stress about returning to work professionally wasn’t worth considering, but your stress about money justified belittling my career.”
At that point, Tyler didn’t know that I was having conversations while cleaning offices. Real conversations. With people who saw me as more than just “the cleaner” or “the mom.”
Specifically, Carol from HR had stopped me one evening to chat after finding me reading a legal brief I’d spotted on a desk.
A stack of papers on a desk | Source: Midjourney
After learning about my background in corporate communications and the circumstances that led me to cleaning, she was appalled.
“We actually have an opening in the marketing department,” she told me. “The pay is competitive, and the hours would work with your childcare situation. Would you be interested?”
I was more than interested. I was ready.
The final act in my plan came together at the next company event, where spouses were invited. Tyler had begged me not to attend, claiming we should “leave work at work,” but I insisted.
A man sitting with his head in his hands, worried about his image | Source: Midjourney
I arrived fashionably late, wearing a stunning new navy dress that I’d purchased with my first advance from my new marketing position that would start the following Monday. It was a position that paid significantly more than Tyler’s.
The look on his face when I walked in was worth every second of pushing that cleaning cart. He just stared at me with wide eyes as Carol from HR approached me with a glass of champagne.
A woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney
“Everyone, I’d like to introduce our newest team member,” Carol announced to the small group near us. “Marilyn will be joining our marketing department on Monday as our new Communications Director. Some of you may have met her already in a different capacity.”
The smirks and raised eyebrows around the circle made it clear everyone understood exactly what “different capacity” meant. Tyler looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
Later that evening, Tyler cornered me by the drinks table.
“You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?” he hissed.
A man standing in a party | Source: Midjourney
I sipped my champagne calmly. “No, Tyler. You planned it when you decided I wasn’t worth a few new outfits to restart my career. I just adapted to the circumstances you created.”
“It was a joke,” he insisted, his voice desperate. “I was stressed. I didn’t mean for you to actually become a cleaner.”
“And I didn’t mean to discover that my husband values me so little,” I replied. “Yet here we are, both surprised by outcomes we didn’t expect.”
Over the following months, things changed dramatically between us.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
Tyler’s position at the firm became increasingly uncomfortable as the story of his “career advice” to his wife became part of company lore. Meanwhile, my role expanded as my talents were recognized. The power dynamic in our marriage shifted noticeably.
Tyler tried to apologize repeatedly.
He bought me clothes, jewelry, and even a new car, but it didn’t work.
A man holding car keys | Source: Pexels
You see, the moment he made me feel like I wasn’t worth basic respect was the moment something fundamental broke between us.
Now, six months later, my closet is filled with clothes that fit the woman I’ve become.
Meanwhile, Tyler has lost his job. He’s apologized more times than I can count, but no amount of regret can erase the moment he made me feel small, the moment he dismissed my worth so easily.
And now, the choice is mine. Do I forgive him and give our marriage another chance? Or is it time to walk away for good?
What would you do?
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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