
Anna returned home from the cafe, packed her belongings, and drove to her grandfather’s house in the countryside. It was a small blue cottage with a wooden door, very different from Anna’s in Cleveland, but here she could find peace and a well-deserved break from housework and, especially, Edward’s lies.
The woman creaked open the gate upon arrival, but as she took a step forward towards the front door, she noticed a man lying unconscious in the yard with a shovel beside him. Blood had covered every square inch of the shovel as if someone had hit him on the head with it.
Anna called 911 right away and rushed the man to the hospital. Fortunately, they made it in time, and the man was out of danger. But when she got home from the hospital, she had another surprise in store for her. Her dear husband Edward was waiting for her at the cottage.
“I have been searching for you the whole day, Anna! You just disappeared without a trace. Where have you been?” Edward inquired.
“Because you were so preoccupied with your work and ‘client meetings,’ I decided to take a vacation with my baby,” Anna said indifferently. “It’s not as if I have to ask you for your permission for everything. Anyway, what are you doing here?”
Edward’s tone abruptly shifted. “Are you upset about something, honey? Do you want me to get you something?”
“No, Edward,” Anna retorted. “Right now, all I need is sleep. So, please move. And, yes, I’ll be sleeping alone, so you can sleep outside on the couch!”
Anna went to bed, but her thoughts kept returning to the man she’d discovered unconscious in her yard. What exactly was he doing here? Was she on the lookout for something? Is he familiar with me? And how did he get a head injury? Her head was racing with questions.
Anna fell asleep while trying to find answers for her inquisitive mind and was awakened by the sun the following day. It was mildly cold, so she reached out for the blanket, but she couldn’t find it.
She awoke, irritated, and was about to yell at Edward if he’d pulled it to his side when she realized she’d been sleeping alone.
However, as Anna looked around the room, she noticed it was in a terrible state. The blanket had been thrown on the floor, her room’s cupboard had open drawers, and her luggage had been opened and rummaged through.
If this is you, Edward, I swear you’re dead today! Anna was furious as she dashed into the living room. But that space was in no better shape. It was even messier than she’d found it when she first entered the house, and Edward was nowhere to be found.
She was about to go outside and check the yard for him, but just then, her gaze was drawn to a crumpled sheet of paper on the ground. When she picked it up, she discovered it was a blueprint for her cottage with a red circle at its center.
She dashed to the loft as it came under the circled region and discovered that, too, was messed up. Edward had vanished as if he didn’t exist, and the yard had been dug out in one corner.
Worried, she was about to call him, but just then she heard a voice from behind. “I’m sorry, but I hope I didn’t disturb you!” it said.
Anna turned around and discovered the man she’d saved the previous day standing at the doorstep. “Oh, it’s you! Are you all right now?” she worriedly inquired.
The man sighed as he looked around Anna’s house, which was in a state of disarray. “I was taken to the hospital on time thanks to your assistance,” he said. “By the way, my name is Andrew. Can I come inside, if you don’t mind? I’d like to speak with you about something…”
Anna offered tea to Andrew, and that’s when he started telling her the whole story. Andrew turned out to have cared for Anna’s grandfather in his final days. So, before his death, her grandfather told the kind man about the treasure hidden in the yard near his house.
“He also gave me a letter,” Andrew explained, “and it was addressed to you to an address in Florida. I went there, but you’d already left, so I waited until you came back so I could give it to you. I wasn’t there on his funeral day; otherwise, we could have met that day.”
Anna opened the letter and began reading it.
“Dear Anna, I hope you’re doing well,” the letter began, “I know it might come as a shock to you, but I have a box hidden in my yard, and there’s a map to it.”
“My grandfather gave it to me before he died, and I wanted to give it to you on your wedding day, but I’m sorry to say that your husband already has his eye on it. Edward is not who he appears to be. He came to see me after you two got married and overheard me talking to Andrew.”
“By the way, Andrew is the man who will most likely deliver this letter to you. The brooch you’ll find inside the box is worth millions of dollars, and it is a relic of our ancestors that has been passed down to us. Edward will not find it as long as he does not obtain the map. I hope you find it and keep it in a safe place. Love, Grandpa Silas.”
As Anna finished the letter, she showed a picture of Edward to Andrew. “Have you seen him around, or do you know him?”
“Oh, yes, he’s the man who comes here often. When I came here that day to clean the yard, I found him here, and he hit me over the head with a shovel.”
When Andrew said that, it all made sense: Edward’s sudden appearance at the cottage and his sudden disappearance. Anna immediately called the police and informed them of the situation. In no time, Edward was apprehended, and he confessed to the theft, and Anna was able to recover the brooch.
After the incident, Anna decided to cut all ties with Edward, who’s serving time in prison, and she and Andrew are now raising her son, Brandon, together.
What can we learn from this story?
You can’t escape karma. Edward decided to flee with the ancient brooch, but he was apprehended and punished for his actions.
Everything in life happens for a reason. If Anna hadn’t caught Edward cheating on her that day, she would never have found out the truth about Edward.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young mother who found an old crib on her doorstep with an envelope inside.
I Let a Homeless Woman Stay in My Garage, but One Day, I Walked in Without Knocking & Was Stunned by What She Was Doing

When a wealthy, emotionally distant man offers shelter to Lexi, a homeless woman, he’s drawn to her resilience. Their unlikely bond begins to grow — until the day he walks into his garage unannounced and discovers something disturbing. Who is Lexi really, and what is she hiding?
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I had everything money could buy: a sprawling estate, luxury cars, and more wealth than I could ever spend in a lifetime. Yet, inside, there was a hollow I couldn’t fill.
I’d never had a family since women always seemed to want me only for the money I inherited from my parents. At sixty-one, I couldn’t help but wish I’d done something differently.

A lonely man | Source: Midjourney
I tapped the steering wheel absently, trying to shake off the familiar weight on my chest. That’s when I saw a disheveled woman bent over a trash can.
I slowed the car, not sure why I even bothered. People like her were everywhere, weren’t they? But there was something about the way she moved, her thin arms digging through the garbage with a sort of grim determination that tugged at something inside me.
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She looked fragile, yet fierce, like she was holding onto survival by sheer force of will.

A homeless woman | Source: Pexels
Before I realized what I was doing, I had pulled over. The engine hummed as I rolled down the window, watching her from the safety of my car.
She looked up, startled. Her eyes were wide, and for a moment, I thought she might run. But she didn’t. Instead, she straightened up, brushing her hands on her faded jeans.
“Do you need some help?” I asked, my voice sounding strange even to my ears. It wasn’t like me to talk to strangers, let alone invite trouble into my world.

A man speaking through an open car window | Source: Pexels
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“You offering?” There was a sharpness to her voice, but also a kind of tiredness, like she’d heard every empty promise before.
“I don’t know.” The words tumbled out before I could think them through. I stepped out of the car. “I just saw you there and… well, it didn’t seem right.”
She crossed her arms over her chest; her gaze never leaving mine. “What’s not right is life.” She let out a bitter laugh. “And cheating, no-good husbands in particular. But you don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”

A homeless woman | Source: Pexels
I winced, even though I knew she was right.
“Maybe not.” I paused, unsure of how to continue. “Do you have a place to go tonight?”
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She hesitated, her eyes darting away for a second before locking back onto mine. “No.”
The word hung in the air between us. It was all I needed to hear.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“Look, I have a garage. Well, it’s more like a guest house. You could stay there until you get back on your feet.”
I expected her to laugh in my face, to tell me to go to hell. But instead, she just blinked at me, the edges of her tough exterior starting to crack.
“I don’t take charity,” she said, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable.
“It’s not charity,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. “It’s just a place to stay. No strings attached.”
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A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
“Okay. Just for a night,” she replied. “I’m Lexi, by the way.”
The drive back to the estate was quiet. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her arms wrapped around herself like a shield.
When we arrived, I led her to the garage-turned-guest-house. It was nothing fancy, but enough for someone to live in.
“You can stay here,” I said, gesturing toward the small space. “There’s food in the fridge, too.”

A cozy home interior | Source: Pexels
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“Thanks,” she muttered.
Over the next few days, Lexi stayed in the garage but we saw each other for occasional meals. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something about her pulled at me.
Maybe it was how she seemed to keep going despite everything life had thrown at her, or perhaps the loneliness I saw in her eyes, mirroring my own. Maybe it was just the simple fact that I didn’t feel quite so alone anymore.
One night, as we sat across from each other over dinner, she began to open up.

Dinner on the table | Source: Pexels
“I used to be an artist,” she said, her voice soft. “Well, I tried to be, anyway. I had a small gallery, a few shows… but it all fell apart.”
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“What happened?” I asked, genuinely curious.
She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Life happened. My husband left me for some younger woman he got pregnant and kicked me out. My whole life unraveled after that.”

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
She shrugged. “It’s in the past.”
But I could tell it wasn’t, not really. The pain was still there, just beneath the surface. I knew that feeling all too well.
As the days passed, I found myself looking forward to our conversations.

A man looking out a window | Source: Midjourney
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Lexi had a sharp wit and a biting sense of humor that cut through the gloom of my empty estate. Slowly, the hollow space inside me seemed to shrink.
It all changed one afternoon. I had been rushing around, trying to find the air pump for the tires on one of my cars. I barged into the garage without knocking, expecting to grab it quickly and leave. But what I saw stopped me cold.
There, spread across the floor, were dozens of paintings. Of me.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
Or rather, grotesque versions of me. One painting showed me with chains around my neck, another with blood pouring from my eyes. In the corner, there was one of me lying in a casket.
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I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. This was how she saw me? After everything I’d done for her?
I backed out of the room before she noticed me, my heart pounding.

A woman painting | Source: Pexels
That night, as we sat down for dinner, I couldn’t shake the images from my mind. Whenever I looked at Lexi, all I saw were those horrific portraits.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Lexi,” I said, my voice tight. “What the hell are those paintings?”
Her fork clattered to the plate. “What are you talking about?”

A fork on a plate | Source: Pexels
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“I saw them,” I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. “The paintings of me. The chains, the blood, the coffin. What the hell is that?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see those,” she stammered.
“Well, I did,” I said coldly. “Is that how you see me? As some monster?”
“No, it’s not that.” She wiped at her eyes, her voice shaky. “I was just… angry. I’ve lost everything, and you have so much. It wasn’t fair, and I couldn’t help it. I needed to let it out.”

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
“So you painted me like a villain?” I asked, my voice sharp.
She nodded, shame etched into her features. “I’m sorry.”
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I sat back, letting the silence stretch between us. I wanted to forgive her. I wanted to understand. But I couldn’t.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” I said, my voice flat.

A man running his hands through his hair | Source: Midjourney
Lexi’s eyes widened. “Wait, please—”
“No,” I interrupted. “It’s over. You need to leave.”
The next morning, I helped her pack her belongings and drove her to a nearby shelter. She didn’t say much, and neither did I. Before she stepped out of the car, I handed her a few hundred dollars.
She hesitated but then took the money with trembling hands.
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Dollar bills | Source: Pexels
Weeks passed, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of loss. Not just because of the disturbing paintings, but because of what we’d had before. There had been warmth and connection — something I hadn’t felt in years.
Then, one day, a package arrived at my door. Inside was a painting, but this one was different. It wasn’t grotesque or twisted. It was a serene portrait of me, captured with a peace I hadn’t known I possessed.
Tucked inside the package was a note with Lexi’s name and phone number scrawled at the bottom.

A man holding a note | Source: Midjourney
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My finger hovered over the call button, my heart beating faster than it had in years. Getting worked up over a phone call felt ridiculous, but there was so much more riding on it than I wanted to admit.
I swallowed hard and hit “Call” before I could second-guess myself again. It rang twice before she picked up.
“Hello?” Her voice was hesitant like she somehow sensed it could only be me.

A man speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I cleared my throat. “Lexi. It’s me. I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it. I figured I owed you something better than… well, those other paintings.”
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“You didn’t owe me anything, Lexi. I wasn’t exactly fair to you, either.”
“You had every right to be upset.” Her voice was steadier now. “What I painted — those were things I needed to get out of me, but they weren’t about you, really. You were just… there. I’m sorry.”

A man taking a phone call | Source: Midjourney
“You don’t need to apologize, Lexi. I forgave you the moment I saw that painting.”
Her breath hitched. “You did?”
“I did,” I said, and I meant it. It wasn’t just the painting that had changed my mind, it was the gnawing feeling that I had let something meaningful slip through my fingers because I was too afraid to face my pain. “And… well, I’ve been thinking… maybe we could start over.”
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A smiling man speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe we could talk. Maybe over dinner? If you’d like.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d really like that.”
We made arrangements to meet in a few days. Lexi told me she’d used the money I gave her to buy new clothes and get a job. She was planning to move into an apartment when she received her first paycheck.
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having dinner with Lexi again.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
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