Margaret, a lonely career woman, eagerly awaits the arrival of Colin, a man she met online. But just hours before he is due, a call from a friend leads her to a nearby cemetery. There, she is horrified to see a photo of Colin on another man’s grave. Is Colin really who he claims to be?
The sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the pristine furniture as Margaret cleaned the house.
She had always kept her home immaculate, a reflection of her orderly and disciplined life. Every corner was spotless, every item in its place. Cleaning was a routine she found both comforting and necessary, a way to fill the void in her life.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
All her life, Margaret had prioritized work and setting up her own life. At nineteen, she was already living alone, working two jobs as a cook to pay for her education.
By twenty-five, she was building a career as a restaurant manager and saving for her own restaurant. Her hard work paid off, and by forty-five, Margaret had everything—a successful restaurant, a beautiful house, and a nice car.
Yet, despite all her achievements, personal happiness had eluded her. She always thought that once she set up her life, a family would come naturally. But when she realized she wanted and needed a family, it was too late.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Margaret had little experience in interacting with men and even less in building a family. At work, the men were intimidated by her position and her success.
She was respected but also seen as unapproachable. Finding a partner at forty-five turned out to be much harder than she had ever imagined.
As Margaret continued cleaning, her phone suddenly chimed with a message. She paused, her heart skipping a beat, and quickly took out her phone. A smile spread across her face when she saw it was a message from Colin.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
She had recently met Colin online, and their communication had developed quickly. Colin understood Margaret; they talked about books, movies, food, and their views on the world.
They had so much in common, but there was a problem. Colin lived in another city, and they hadn’t met yet.
Margaret had been afraid to suggest meeting because she had lied about her age. She told Colin she was thirty, fearing he would reject her if he knew the truth.
She never thought their relationship would progress this far, but now she was ready to meet him in person. She typed out a message: “Colin, we’ve been talking for over a month now, and I really want to meet you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Fakedetail
Margaret felt anxious, like a teenager waiting for his response. She kept checking her phone repeatedly, getting frustrated and putting it back face down.
Finally, the reply came, “That’s a great idea, Margaret. I really want to meet too, but I have nowhere to stay in the city. I don’t like staying in hotels.”
Without thinking, Margaret replied instantly, “No problem, stay with me!”
Realizing that her offer might be interpreted as an intimate suggestion, she began to write that she didn’t mean it that way. But Colin responded quickly, “Great, I’ll arrive tomorrow evening. I can’t wait to meet you!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Everything was set; she would meet Colin tomorrow. Margaret was overwhelmed with emotions. She was happy to finally meet him but also scared.
She had lied to him about her age, and she feared that when he found out she was much older, he would leave her.
She paced around the living room, her thoughts racing. She imagined their first meeting, worrying about how he would react. But it was too late to back out now; she had to go through with it.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The next day, Margaret was a whirlwind of activity, preparing for Colin’s arrival. She meticulously cleaned the house, ensuring every corner was spotless.
She decorated the kitchen with fresh flowers and set the table with her best dishes. The aroma of a delicious dinner filled the house as she cooked Colin’s favorite meals, ready to warm up and serve when he arrived.
Everything was ready. As the evening approached, Margaret’s excitement and nerves grew. She was just about to sit down and relax for a moment when her phone rang. Seeing it was her colleague, Alice, she answered quickly.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Margaret, hi. I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I have a very urgent request,” Alice said, her voice sounding strained.
“I’m listening, Alice. Did something happen at the funeral? Maybe I can help?” Margaret asked, remembering that Alice was supposed to be at a funeral that day. She had requested a day off from work for it.
“I feel so awkward asking this, but my car is stuck nearby,” Alice explained, sounding embarrassed.
“Of course, I’ll help. I’ll be there in ten minutes, don’t worry!” Margaret responded without hesitation.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Margaret wanted to support Alice, understanding that if Alice had called her, it wasn’t just about the car. Most likely, she was struggling to cope with her husband Nathan’s death. So she quickly grabbed her keys and headed out the door.
As she drove, Margaret thought about Alice and how hard it must be to deal with such a loss. She hoped that helping Alice would provide some comfort.
Despite her own nervousness about meeting Colin, she felt a strong sense of responsibility to be there for her friend in need.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Arriving at the scene, Margaret found Alice standing beside her car, looking helpless and distressed. Without wasting any time, she got to work. She attached Alice’s car to hers with a tow rope and quickly pulled it out of the ditch.
The task was surprisingly easy, almost as if Alice could have done it herself. Margaret brushed off her hands and turned to Alice.
“All set,” Margaret said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Thank you so much, Margaret,” Alice replied, her voice trembling. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
As they stood by the side of the road, Alice’s composure crumbled. She broke down in tears, unable to hold back the flood of emotions any longer. Margaret stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting hug.
“It’s just so hard,” Alice sobbed. “Ever since Nathan died, everything feels impossible. I thought I could handle today, but I can’t.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Margaret’s heart ached for her friend. She knew how much Alice loved Nathan and how difficult the past few months had been for her. “I’m so sorry, Alice. It’s okay to feel like this. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
Alice wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Would you walk with me back to his grave? I can’t bring myself to go alone. The guests have left, and I can’t bear the thought of going home to an empty house without him.”
“Of course,” Margaret said softly. “I’ll be right beside you.”
They walked together through the cemetery, the air heavy with the scent of flowers and freshly turned earth.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Margaret supported Alice by the arm, offering silent comfort as they moved between the rows of headstones.
As Margaret gazed around the cemetery, her eyes were drawn to a photo on one of the nearby graves. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the face. It was a picture of Colin.
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She walked closer, her heart pounding, and compared it to the photo she had seen in Colin’s online profile. It was the same person.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
At that moment, fear and confusion washed over Margaret. What could this mean? Who had she been talking to all this time? She felt a chill run down her spine.
Margaret carefully took out her phone and sent a message to Colin, her hands shaking. “Hi, is everything still on for today?”
The reply came quickly, “Yes, of course, I’ll be there at eight!”
Margaret didn’t know what to think. She was scared, her mind racing with questions and doubts, but she knew she needed to find out the truth.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
There had to be some explanation. Maybe it was a misunderstanding, or perhaps there was another explanation she hadn’t considered.
She turned to Alice, giving her one last supportive squeeze. “Alice, I need to go. But please call me if you need anything. I’m here for you.”
“Thank you, Margaret,” Alice said, her voice weak but grateful. “You’ve done so much for me today.”
Margaret said her goodbyes and drove home, her thoughts a jumble of fear. As she navigated the familiar streets, she tried to calm herself. She needed to be composed and ready for Colin’s arrival, no matter what happened.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Everything was ready: a set table, flowers, and a delicious dinner. Waiting by the door, her mind whirled with thoughts and emotions, especially the mysterious photograph at the cemetery.
As she waited by the door, peeking out the window, her mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what awaited her, who was coming to her home, and the mysterious photograph she had seen at the cemetery.
Finally, she saw a car park near the house. Her heart raced as she watched a man step out, holding a bouquet of flowers.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
But when Margaret saw his face, she was shocked. He didn’t look like the man in the photos at all. Panic set in, and Margaret quickly hid behind the door, unsure of what to do.
Colin approached the door and rang the bell. Margaret remained silent, her mind racing with fear and confusion. The doorbell rang again, but she didn’t move. Finally, Colin spoke, his voice gentle and apologetic.
“I know you’re inside, Margaret. I can understand why you’re not answering. I don’t look like the man in the photos. I’m really sorry.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Margaret’s heart pounded in her chest. She hesitated, but then she heard Colin placing the bouquet down at the doorstep. “I’ll leave these here and go,” he said. “I’m sorry for the deception. I just wanted to meet you so badly.”
As he turned to leave, Margaret couldn’t take it anymore. She opened the door, her voice trembling. “Wait.”
Colin stopped and turned around, his eyes meeting hers. He looked relieved to see her. “Margaret, I’m so sorry. I can explain.”
They stepped inside, the tension between them palpable. Margaret took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. “Why did you lie about your appearance, Colin?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Colin looked down, his expression filled with regret.
“It’s hard for me to meet someone. I have almost no experience in relationships. I was very anxious and created a profile with a photo of a handsome man because I thought no one would be interested in the real me. I wanted to tell you many times, but I was afraid you would stop talking to me.”
Margaret listened, her heart softening. She could see the sincerity in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what you look like, Colin. What matters is that you didn’t lie to me about who you are inside.”
Margaret gasped, feeling a pang of guilt. “I lied too. I said I was thirty, but I’m actually older… I’m forty-five. I was worried you wouldn’t want to meet someone so old…”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Colin stepped closer, looking into her eyes. “Age doesn’t matter to me, Margaret. You’re beautiful, and I’ve enjoyed every conversation we’ve had. I’m just glad we’re finally meeting in person.”
A smile spread across Margaret’s face. “It’s funny, isn’t it? We both pretended to be someone else because we were afraid.”
Colin chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yes, it is. But maybe that’s a sign that we have more in common than we thought.”
Margaret felt a sense of relief wash over her. “Would you like to come inside? We can have dinner and start over, without any lies this time.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Colin smiled warmly. “I’d like that very much.”
They walked inside together, leaving the flowers on the doorstep as a reminder of their fresh start. As they sat down for dinner, they talked and laughed, sharing their true selves with each other.
The fear and uncertainty began to fade, replaced by a growing connection and understanding. They both knew that building a family couldn’t be based on lies, and this honest beginning was the first step toward something real and lasting.
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My Son Refused to Eat During Our Thanksgiving Dinner – When I Asked Why, He Said, ‘Grandma Told Me the Truth About You’
This Thanksgiving started with a hard-earned feast, but my son refused to eat and wouldn’t tell me why. Later, his heartbreaking confession revealed how one family member had shattered his trust and ours.
Life isn’t easy right now, but everyone does their best to make it work. My husband, Mark, and I try to focus on what really matters: creating a happy home for our 8-year-old son, Ethan.
A cute boy | Source: Midjourney
This year, we were determined to give him a Thanksgiving to remember, even though money’s been tight. We were also hosting our mother, so I wanted it to be nice.
Luckily, we managed to stretch our budget and pulled off a feast. The turkey came out golden and juicy, the mashed potatoes were fluffy, and Ethan’s favorite pumpkin pie was chilling in the fridge. I was proud of what we’d accomplished despite rising prices.
Thanksgiving food on a table | Source: Midjourney
Everything seemed fine until dinner. Ethan sat at the table, unusually quiet while staring at his plate. That kid often bounces with excitement for Thanksgiving.
“Sweetie,” I said gently, trying not to sound worried, “you’re not eating. Is everything okay?”
He shrugged, barely looking up. “I’m not hungry,” he mumbled.
A sad boy at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
Mark shot me a questioning look across the table. I shrugged back, unsure what was going on. Our son was not the kind of kid to hold back if something was bothering him, but with my mom at the table, maybe he didn’t feel like talking.
She’s not exactly the warmest presence.
I decided not to push it during dinner. “Alright,” I said softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “But let me know if that changes, okay?”
Ethan nodded, but the look on his face stayed with me. Something was wrong.
A worried woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
After dinner, my son skipped dessert. Skipped. Dessert. That’s like the sun deciding not to rise.
Meanwhile, my mom didn’t notice or didn’t care. She stayed for another hour, and for some reason, she nitpicked the meal we’d had tirelessly saved for and worked so hard to make.
She complained about the fact that we made mac and cheese from a box, which is Ethan’s favorite, or it used to be, I guess.
Mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney
Apparently, we should’ve bought the good cheese and real macaroni from the store, considering Thanksgiving was such a special occasion.
At one point, tears pricked my eyes because this had been such a sacrifice. I wanted to yell that between her and Ethan’s strange attitude, Thanksgiving had been ruined.
But I bit my tongue, nodding to appease her. When she finally left, I headed straight for my son’s room.
A woman looking sad during Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney
Mark followed, just as worried as I was. Ethan was curled up on his bed, hugging his pillow.
“Sweetie?” I said softly, sitting beside him. “What’s wrong, honey? You’ve been so quiet today. You didn’t eat your favorite mac and cheese, and you didn’t want pumpkin pie.”
He looked at me with teary eyes. “Grandma told me the truth about you,” he whispered.
My stomach dropped. “What truth?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
A woman looking worried in a child’s bedroom | Source: Midjourney
He hesitated, then blurted out, “She said you and Dad are losers! She said we’re poor, and that’s why we can’t have a real Thanksgiving.”
My body froze, but my eyes widened. I could almost hear the sound of my heart breaking into a million pieces, like a vase thrown deliberately at the wall.
“When did your grandmother say these things?” I finally asked in a whisper.
“Last week, when she picked me up from school,” he replied as the tears wet his pillow.
A kid in bed looking sad | Source: Midjourney
Mark knelt next to me, and I saw his jaw tightening. “Ethan,” he said gently, “Grandma shouldn’t have said that to you.”
Our son sniffled, and his small hands gripped the blanket tighter. “She also said Dad’s lazy and doesn’t make enough money. And that you’re… not good at taking care of me.”
I could barely breathe.
Luckily, Mark was more composed. He started rubbing Ethan’s back, speaking in a calm but firm voice. “Buddy, none of that is true. Your mom and I work hard to give you everything we can because we love you so much.”
A man looking worried as he leans over a bed | Source: Midjourney
“But she said we’re not a real family,” our son continued. “Because we don’t have the stuff other people have.”
“Listen to me, sweetie,” I said hoarsely. “Grandma is wrong. What makes a family real isn’t money or stuff. It’s love. And we have so much of that.”
Mark chimed in, nodding. “People can and will say hurtful things, even people we love. But your mother’s right. What matters is how we treat each other, and I think we’re the luckiest family in the world because we’re together and healthy.”
A man leaning over a bed | Source: Midjourney
“Really?” Ethan asked.
“Yes!” Mark and I said in unison, and then I continued. “Listen, baby. We’re going to talk to Grandma. But she won’t be picking you up anymore. We all need a break from her, I think.”
Ethan bit his lip for a second before his tiny smile emerged.
“All good now?” Mark asked, tilting his head.
Our son lifted his upper body slightly and looked at us expectantly. “Can I have some pumpkin pie now?”
A kid looking happy lying in bed | Source: Midjourney
Mark and I released a sigh of relief.
We went out to the kitchen, and Ethan acted like he’d never eaten before. He devoured his mac and cheese, a bit of the turkey, and even some green beans before inhaling his piece of pumpkin pie.
He fell asleep on the couch a second after he finished, and we carried him to his room.
Once we were inside our bedroom, Mark and I agreed on what we would say to my mother almost immediately. He was so angry that there was no other choice.
A couple talking seriously | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I woke up ready, but nervous. I called my mom over, and she arrived, looking smug and carrying that air of superiority that I’d ignored most of my life.
I just couldn’t let it go now that it had affected my son.
“Why did you invite me over? We saw each other last night, and I definitely don’t want leftovers from that meal” she chuckled without humor, sitting down on our armchair and not even saying hello to Mark.
A woman sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney
Her comment was perfect because it assured me that I was making the right choice.
So, I didn’t waste more time. “Ethan told us what you said to him last week,” I began. “About Mark and me and our family.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that? I was just being honest,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “He needs to understand how the real world works.”
Mark’s voice was sharp. “Telling an 8-year-old that his parents are losers is your idea of honesty?”
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. I was just preparing him for reality. He needs to know life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”
“What he needs is love and support,” I snapped. “Not your judgmental comments. Do you have any idea how much you hurt him? Did you even notice he wasn’t eating last night?”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt him,” she said, looking annoyed. “But really… it’s just the truth. You can’t provide enough. He should have more.”
A woman sitting on an armchair and waving a hand dismissively | Source: Midjourney
“More?” Mark said, standing and pacing the living room. “We work hard to give Ethan a good life. All he needs is us by his side. You don’t get to tear our family down just because you think we don’t measure up to your standards.”
Mom’s face turned red. “Things wouldn’t be this way if Umma had listened,” she retorted and turned her angry eyes to me. “If you had married the man I wanted for you, none of this would’ve happened.”
A woman looking angry on an armchair | Source: Midjourney
I saw that my husband was about to explode, so I stood and spoke first. “That’s enough. Get out of my house! Until you can show us all the respect we deserve, we’re cutting you off.”
Her jaw tightened. “What? You can’t do that!”
“Yes, we can,” Mark said, walking to our front door and opening it wide. “We might be losers, but this is our house, and we’ve had enough of you.”
Mom looked at me one more time, but I only raised my eyebrows expectantly.
A woman with arms crossed in a living room | Source: Midjourney
With a huff, she grabbed her purse and stormed out. Mark slammed the door behind her and barked a laugh.
I didn’t, but I felt a weight off my shoulders.
Since then, our son has been thriving. It’s a little hard not being able to ask my mom to pick Ethan up, but we arranged a carpool schedule with other moms.
Weeks later, on an evening close to Christmas, I confirmed that this had been the right decision while baking cookies from a box mix. Ethan looked up at me with a big smile.
A boy with a bowl of cookie dough | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, I think our family is the best,” he said.
My throat felt too tight as I smiled back. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”
I don’t know if my mom will ever make her way back into our lives, but so far, she hasn’t even tried. Her pride and toxicity don’t allow her to see the big picture or what truly matters in life.
My advice is: Protect your kids, even if you have to pull away from other family members. The holidays should be joyful, not a source of stress and tears. Do what’s best for your household.
A happy family on Christmas | Source: Midjourney
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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