
George’s absence haunts their home, his memory wrapped in his shirt that Mariana clutches each night. Yet, it wasn’t his death that shattered her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s demand for his assets. When she finally gave in, a twist emerged, leaving Susan furious and Mariana oddly at peace.
Moving on after losing a loved one is never easy. Sometimes, I still hear my hubby George’s voice in the back of my head. I wake up clutching his favorite shirt, his scent lingering on the fabric. But while I was still grieving his loss, what my stepdaughter did… it completely shattered me…
I’m Mariana, 57 years old, and I was married to the most wonderful man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, 34, from a previous marriage.
Our relationship with Susan used to be fine. She called me “Mom” and filled the void in my heart of not having a child of my own. I didn’t see her as “someone else’s” child. I loved her as my own daughter, you know.
When Susan got married to the man of her choice, George and I were overjoyed. But after that, everything went downhill when George was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
Susan’s visits dwindled from weekly to monthly, then stopped altogether. She barely came to see her father, occasionally calling me to ask about his condition.
One day, she asked me something that tore me apart. “How many more days does he have left to live?”
I gripped the phone tightly, my voice trembling. “Susan, your father isn’t some product with an expiry date.”
“I just want to know, Mom. I’m busy, you know that… I can’t be visiting often,” she replied.
“Busy?” I echoed, disbelief coloring my tone. “Too busy to see your dying father?”
She sighed heavily. “Look, I’ll try to visit soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never came.
Then, the day I dreaded finally arrived. The hospital called, informing me that George had passed peacefully.
I was shattered, barely able to stand as the news sunk in. My George, my beloved George, was gone.
To my shock and disappointment, Susan didn’t even attend his funeral. When I called her, she had an excuse ready.
“You know that I just delivered my baby last month, Mom,” she said, her voice oddly detached. “The doctors advised against long travel due to some health issues.”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you want to see him one last time?”
“I can’t risk my baby’s health,” she replied curtly. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not really, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, sweetie. Take care.”
As I hung up and sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something had fundamentally changed between us.
Six months after George’s passing, I was startled by a loud knock on my door. Opening it, I found Susan and her husband Doug, accompanied by a stern-looking man in a suit.
Susan barged in without a greeting. “Mom, we need you to sign some papers.”
I blinked, confused. “What papers?”
Doug thrust a stack of documents at me, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. It’s for transferring all the assets into our names.”
“Excuse me?” I stepped back, my heart racing. “What are you talking about?”
Susan rolled her eyes. “Dad’s assets, Mom. We’re here to claim what’s rightfully ours.”
Their audacity left me speechless. If only George had left a will, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I would have ensured my daughter was taken care of before she even knew there was a problem.
But this? Their tone and audacity irked me. How could they think I’d just stand by and let them walk all over me?
“No,” I said firmly, finding my voice. “I want you to leave my house right now. And don’t you dare come back with such awful demands.”
Susan’s face contorted with anger. “You can’t do this! You’re not even my REAL MOTHER!”
Her words hit me like a bag of bricks. I stumbled back, tears welling in my eyes. “Susan, how can you say that? After all these years?”
“Just stick to your boundaries and pass on my father’s assets to me,” she spat.
I felt my blood pressure rising, my vision blurring with tears and rage. “Get out of my house!” I shouted. “Your father would be heartbroken if he knew what a greedy daughter you’ve become. I’m glad my George didn’t live to see this day.”
Susan launched into a tirade, her words becoming a blur of insults and demands.
“How dare you, Mariana? George was my father, not yours, and you have no right to anything here!” she yelled. “You think you can wiggle your way in here and take what’s ours? Over my dead body!”
That did it. Tears sprang from my eyes. Susan… the daughter my George and I had raised practically stabbed me with her words alone.
But no, I wouldn’t let them break me. Not me. Not Mariana.
“This is my home, and you’re not welcome! Take your greed and get out before I call the cops!” I retorted.
“Do you have any idea what you’re putting us through? You’re nothing but a greedy vulture, circling around for scraps my father left behind!” Susan barked.
“If you had an ounce of decency, you’d leave right now! But clearly, that’s asking too much!” I snapped.
“You think a few harsh words will scare us? Just sign the damn papers, lady!” Doug yelled at me.
I felt cornered by the daughter I’d loved and raised. I was furious and heartbroken.
When they refused to leave, my neighbor, hearing the commotion, rushed over. “You heard her! This isn’t your place, and you’re not welcome. Move it!” he physically escorted Susan and Doug out.
As they left, Susan’s furious voice echoed back. “This isn’t over, Mariana! You’ll regret this!”
I slumped onto the couch, my heart aching. Where had all that love we once shared vanished? How could greed twist my daughter into someone I barely recognized?
With trembling hands, I reached for George’s framed photo on the side table. Tears blurred my vision as I traced his smiling face.
“Oh, George,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Why didn’t you take me with you? I’m lost without you.”
A sob escaped my throat as I clutched the frame to my chest. “Our daughter… our sweet Susan… she’s a stranger to me now. What happened to the little girl who used to call me Mom?”
The silence of the empty house pressed in around me, amplifying my grief. I rocked back and forth, the photo cool against my tear-stained cheeks.
“I miss you so much, honey,” I choked out. “I don’t know how to face this alone.”
Susan’s calls didn’t stop after that. Day and night, my phone buzzed with her angry messages and voicemails. Finally, exhausted and desperate for peace, I decided to give in.
I met with my lawyer, determined to give Susan what she wanted and be done with it. But there was something neither of us knew.
A week later, Susan stormed into my home again, her face red with fury.
“HOW DID YOU DO THIS?” she screamed. “I only get $3,000 and an old car? What about everything else?”
I stared at her, a small smile forming on my face. “What are you talking about?”
Susan waved a paper in my face. “This! This pathetic inheritance you told the lawyer to give me! Where’s everything else?”
I took the paper from her, a small smile dancing on my lips. According to this, George only had $3,000 in his bank account, an old Mustang, and some debts.
“What about the house? The SUV? Dad’s old farmhouse?” Susan snapped.
You see, my lawyer, whom I’d called the other day, arrived and explained the situation. And this is what he said:
“Mrs. Anderson, everything the family owned is in your name. The house, the SUV, the farmhouse, everything. Mr. Anderson transferred it all to you years ago, keeping just three grand in his bank account and his old Mustang. It’s up to you now to decide the fate of these assets.”
Until the lawyer dropped the bomb, I’d assumed George had left me nothing. But no! He had made sure I’d be taken care of after he was gone. Bless his soul.
Susan’s face twisted with rage when I spilled the tea. “You’re lying! This can’t be true!” she hissed.
I looked at her, a strange calm settling over me. “Well, Susan, you wanted your father’s assets. Now you have them.”
“This isn’t fair!” she shrieked. “You tricked me!”
I looked up, a gentle smile plastered on my face. “No, Susan. I gave you exactly what you asked for… what rightfully belonged to your father. And now, I’m keeping what rightfully belongs to me.”
In the days that followed, I made a decision. I sold everything — the house, the SUV, the farmhouse, all of it. I made a decent eight figures, and bought a beautiful villa in a place I’d always dreamed of living, far from everyone.
As I settled into my new home, I received a call from an old friend back in town.
“Mariana,” she said, her voice hushed. “I thought you should know. Susan’s trying to start litigation against you.”
I sighed, unsurprised. “Let me guess, it fell through?”
“Yep. Everything was in your name, after all!”
I thanked her for the information and hung up, feeling a pang of sadness and relief.
Weeks passed, and I started to enjoy my new life. I traveled around the world, tried new hobbies, made new friends. But the peace didn’t last.
One day, my phone rang with an unfamiliar number. When I answered, I heard a man’s voice. “Mrs. Anderson? I’m calling on behalf of Susan. She wants to meet with you.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “No,” I said firmly. “I’m not interested.”
“But Mrs. Anderson, she insists—”
I cut him off. “Tell Susan she got what she wanted. I have nothing more to say to her.”
As I ended the call, I couldn’t help but wonder why Susan was so desperate to meet now. What more could she possibly want? The fragments of my remaining peace?
I shook my head, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter. I had a new life now, and I intended to live it to the fullest. After all, isn’t that what George would have wanted?
Marido obriga esposa grávida a trabalhar mais de 40 horas e fazer todo o trabalho doméstico – Família descobre no Dia de Ação de Graças

Em novembro de 2021, uma mulher anônima compartilhou uma história comovente no fórum “AITA” do Reddit. A mulher, de 24 anos, contou a história da irmã, de 32, e do marido, de 38, que era o epítome da incompetência familiar.
Apesar de ter um trabalho de tempo integral de mais de 40 horas semanais, administrando toda a casa e cuidando dos quatro filhos – 10F, 8M, 5M e 3F – enquanto estava grávida, o marido da irmã não colaborou em nada.

Uma criança ao lado da mãe na cozinha | Foto de : Pexels
A mulher achou incrível que a irmã acordasse às 4 da manhã, cuidasse do café da manhã e das tarefas domésticas e preparasse os filhos para a escola, enquanto o marido ficava em casa, trabalhava e se divertia com videogame depois de pegar as crianças. Em particular, a mulher mencionou que a sua irmã ganhava mais que o seu marido.
O que aconteceu quando eles ficaram com a irmã?
Enquanto reformavam a casa dela, o Redditor teve que ficar seis semanas na casa da irmã, com o noivo de 26 anos. Como o casal trabalhava em casa, puderam oferecer ajuda, e o apoio extra deixou a irmã da mulher feliz e aliviada.
Ele alegou que o incidente o tornou motivo de chacota em sua família.

Uma mulher lê um livro para suas filhas | Foto: Shutterstock
A mulher ajudou a irmã com os filhos, e o noivo até a levou às consultas médicas. Por outro lado, o marido só reconhecia o seu papel paterno quando a família estava presente, apresentando-se como um pai de cinco filhos, temente a Deus e trabalhador.
Embora a irmã da mulher quisesse parar de ter filhos depois do último filho, o marido insistiu em ter mais meninos. A autora original estava preocupada não só com a irmã, mas também com os filhos, principalmente quando o mais velho começou a reconhecer a situação e tentou ajudá-la. No entanto, a irmã recusou-se terminantemente a deixar o filho assumir a responsabilidade.

Uma menina assustada ouve seus pais discutindo ao fundo | Foto: Shutterstock
O Redditor admitiu que ela nunca se deu bem com o cunhado e que o comportamento dele persistiu desde o nascimento de seu filho de oito anos. Apesar das tentativas de discutir a opção de partir, a sua irmã resistiu e temeu que os seus filhos crescessem num lar desfeito.

Um casal feliz com seus três filhos | Foto: Shutterstock
Sua perspectiva sobre o divórcio era diferente da do Redditor, pois sua própria experiência com o divórcio dos pais era muito diferente. Ela acreditava que os seus filhos precisavam da mãe e do pai juntos e estava relutante em considerar os possíveis benefícios do divórcio, dada a sua situação.
Jantar de Ação de Graças
No fim de semana antes de ela contar sua história, sua irmã e seu cunhado ofereceram um jantar pré-Ação de Graças, ao qual ambas as famílias compareceram. Antecipando a falta de colaboração do cunhado, o Redditor havia ficado com a irmã alguns dias antes para ajudá-la.

Reunião de família para jantar de Ação de Graças | Foto: Flickr.com/s_mestdagh (CC BY-SA 2.0)
Durante o jantar, ela disse que ela e o noivo estavam tentando constituir família. Naquele momento, o cunhado fez um comentário estranho ao namorado sobre os desafios da paternidade. O que ele disse irritou a mulher, que respondeu: “Como se você soubesse”.
Surpreso, ele perguntou o que ela queria dizer, e ela deu vazão à frustração reprimida por ser o homem que deixou sua irmã grávida de 8 meses cuidar de tudo na família. A Redditor expressou apaixonadamente seus sentimentos por quase dez minutos, deixando seu cunhado visivelmente desconfortável em sua cadeira. Depois disso, ele saiu do local.

Uma mulher abraça outra para confortá-la | Foto: Shutterstock
Naquela mesma noite, a autora original recebeu um telefonema de sua irmã; Ela agradeceu por defendê-la e expressou sua gratidão por seu apoio. Mas no dia seguinte ela recebeu uma mensagem desagradável do cunhado, acusando-a de ser uma pessoa terrível. Segundo ele, sua suposta mentira diante da família irritou sua mãe, que, em resposta, decidiu morar com eles para ajudar a nora.

Um homem descontente sentado à beira do rio | Foto de : Pexels
Ele alegou que o incidente o tornou motivo de chacota em sua família. Ele acreditava firmemente que ela era a culpada pelas consequências. Depois de tudo o que aconteceu, o Redditor não pôde deixar de se perguntar se ela estava errada ao criticar o cunhado por seu comportamento questionável.
Suporte on-line
“Acho que foi o momento perfeito. Ambas as famílias conseguiram ouvir exatamente o que o autor da postagem dizia, então ele não poderia mentir para sua família e fazer com que eles a atacassem! Algumas pessoas merecem ser expostas à explosão, especialmente pela maneira como ele age como se fosse algo tão importante haha.”
Sua mãe fica brava com ele e vai morar com eles para ajudá-la.
E tudo fica claro…! Não é sua culpa.
“Não sei, quero dar o benefício da dúvida à mãe e pensar que ela está se mudando pelo bem da irmã, não para ajudar o filho.
Ou melhor ainda, para garantir que seu filho não relaxe e realmente ajude.”
“Não é sua culpa. Retorne a mensagem com “A verdade dói, né, grandalhão?”
Diga-nos o que você pensa nos comentários do Facebook e compartilhe essa história com seus amigos. Isso poderia iluminar o dia deles e inspirá-los.
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