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.
I Was Upset That My Grandfather Only Left Me an Old Apiary until I Looked into the Beehives — Story of the Day
My Grandpa, the man who spun tales of buried treasure and promised me the millions. But when his time came, lawyer called me.
“Your grandfather wanted to divide evenly his money between your siblings. But he wanted you to know – he loved you the most, Robyn. That’s why you’ll get his apiary”. – he said.
That was the biggest letdown: a dusty, old apiary. Who leaves their grandchild an insect-infested shack? This cruel joke of an inheritance was a slap in the face until the day I peered into the beehives.
It all started with a regular morning. Aunt Daphne peered over her glasses at the mess on my bed. “Robyn, have you packed your bag yet?”
“I’m texting Chloe,” I groaned, hiding my phone.
“It’s almost bus time! Get ready!” Aunt Daphne said, stuffing books into my bag.
I saw the time. 7:58 A.M. “Ugh, fine,” I sighed, getting up from the bed.
She held out a shirt for me, ironed and ready. “This isn’t what your Grandpa hoped for you, you know. He believed you’d be strong, independent. And those beehives he left? They’re not going to tend to themselves.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
I recalled the times with Grandpa, the honey, the bees. But now, my mind was on the upcoming school dance and my crush, Scott.
“I’ll check them, maybe tomorrow,” I said, fixing my hair.
“Tomorrow never comes for you. Grandpa believed in you, Robyn. He wanted you to take care of the apiary,” she insisted.
“Look, Aunt Daphne,” I said sharply. “I’ve got better things to do than take care of Grandpa’s bees!”
I saw Aunt Daphne’s face fall and tears spring in her eyes. But the school bus honked right then, and I rushed out, ignoring her sad expression.
On the bus, my thoughts were focused on Scott, not the apiary I inherited from Grandpa Archie. “Who wants an apiary?” I thought, annoyed at the responsibility.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But the next day, Aunt Daphne brought it up again. She scolded me for neglecting chores and spending too much time on my phone.
“You’re grounded, young lady!” she declared suddenly, and it was then I finally looked up from my phone.
“Grounded? For what?” I protested.
“For shirking responsibility,” she replied, mentioning the neglected apiary.
“The apiary? That useless bee farm?” I scoffed.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“It’s about responsibility, Robyn. It’s what Grandpa wanted for you,” Aunt Daphne said, her voice strained with emotion.
“Look, Aunt Daphne,” I protested, “I’m scared of getting stung!”
“You’ll be wearing protective gear,” she countered. “A little fear is normal, but you can’t let it stop you.”
Reluctantly, I headed to the apiary. As I approached the hive, I was both scared and curious. Donning heavy gloves, I opened the hive and began harvesting honey, my heart pounding.
Suddenly, a bee stung my glove. I nearly gave up, but a surge of determination hit me. I had to finish this. I had to prove to Aunt Daphne that I wasn’t the reckless, irresponsible 14-year-old she thought I was.
While harvesting honey, I discovered a weather-beaten plastic bag inside the hive containing a faded map with strange markings. It seemed like a treasure map left by Grandpa Archie.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Excited, I tucked the map into my pocket and pedaled home. Leaving the half-filled jar of honey on the kitchen counter, I sneaked out and followed the map into the woods.
Navigating the familiar woods, I remembered Grandpa’s stories and laughed about his encounters.
As I stepped into a clearing that seemed to leap straight out of Grandpa’s stories, I couldn’t help but shiver. This was the exact place he’d talk about the legendary White Walker of the forest, making my imagination run wild as a kid.
And there it was, just like in his tales – the old gamekeeper’s house, looking forgotten by time with its chipped paint and sagging porch. “Grandpa used to sit us down here, munching on sandwiches and pie after collecting honey, and weave his incredible stories,” I thought, a bittersweet nostalgia washing over me.
Touching the ancient dwarf tree near the porch, I could almost hear Grandpa’s playful warning, “Watch out, kiddo. Let’s not disturb the grouchy little gnomes,” as if we were back in those carefree afternoons.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
I found the hidden old key and unlocked the cabin, stepping into a world that time had forgotten. The air was heavy with a musty smell, and specks of dust glimmered in the stray beams of sunlight.
There, catching my eye, was a beautifully carved metal box on a dusty table. Inside was a note from Grandpa, just for me:
“To my dear Robyn, inside this box is a special treasure for you, but it’s not to be opened until your journey’s true end. You’ll know when the time is right. All my love, Grandpa.”
I was dying to see what was inside, but Grandpa’s last instruction echoed in my head, “Only at the end of your journey.”
I couldn’t just ignore his last wish.
I continued my journey through the forest, but after a while, I felt like I was lost.
“This map is no good,” I realized, not being able to spot a way out of the woods. I didn’t know when I started crying.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But then, I remembered something important. “Grandpa always said to stay calm,” I told myself. “I can’t give up.”
Then, I heard a sound like a small branch breaking far off, and it made me think of scary stories from when I was little. “Maybe Aunt Daphne was right to warn me,” I thought, looking around at the huge forest. But thinking of Grandpa’s advice made me brave enough to keep going, guiding me through the enveloping wilderness.
I took a big, nervous breath and tried to think clearly. Going back seemed like a good idea, but it would be hard to see clearly in the forest when it got dark. There was a bridge, the one Grandpa always talked about… that might help, I thought.
Wiping away a tear, I straightened my backpack. “Okay, Robyn,” I whispered to myself. “Let’s find that bridge.”
But that confidence didn’t last long. The sun was setting, making the woods menacing. Exhausted, I slumped under a tree, longing for Aunt Daphne’s cozy kitchen.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
My backpack offered no comfort, just reminders of my unpreparedness. Desperately searching for food, I found nothing but stale cracker crumbs. “Focus, Robyn. Find the bridge. Find water,” I urged myself, ignoring the hunger.
Then, remembering Grandpa’s advice again, I used heal-all leaves for my wounds and pushed on, driven by the sound of rushing water. But the river wasn’t the gentle stream I remembered; it was a dangerous, fast-moving torrent.
Ignoring the treacherous path, I scrambled down the rocky bank, driven by a desperate thirst. Reaching the water’s edge, I knelt, cupping my hands to scoop up the cool liquid. It tasted faintly metallic, but it was life-giving nectar at that moment.
As I rose, the precarious footing betrayed me. Slipping, I tumbled into the icy current, screaming for help. My backpack dragged me down. “Grandpa,” I whispered helplessly. Thinking of him, a sliver of clarity cut through the panic. He wouldn’t have wanted me to give up. He’d taught me to fight, to be brave.
I decided to ditch the backpack but kept Grandpa’s metal box. Fighting the current, I struggled towards the shore, refusing to give up.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
My fingers brushed a solid log, a lifeline in the churning chaos. I clung to it with every ounce of strength, the current tossing me like a ragdoll. Then, with a final shove, it deposited me, sputtering and bruised, onto the muddy bank.
I peeled off my soaking clothes and hung them up on a tree to dry. My eyes then fell on a metal box that might help me find my way back.
Grandpa had told me to wait until the end of my journey to open it, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. Inside, I found no treasure, just a jar of honey and a photo of us together. It hit me then—this journey and the real treasure was about the value of hard work, just like Grandpa always said.
Tears welled up as I thought about how I’d ignored all the wisdom Grandpa had shared with me. I’d been chasing adventures, forgetting the important things he’d tried to teach me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Wiping my snotty nose, I told myself it was time to get moving, to make Grandpa proud. I started building a shelter from branches and leaves under a big oak tree. It was rough, but it was enough for the night.
The next morning, the bright sun woke me up. I pushed through the woods, holding onto that metal box like a lifeline, thinking about Grandpa.
Remembering the times we went fishing together warmed me up a bit. “Slow and steady,” I could almost hear him say. I even started humming one of his favorite tunes, feeling like he was right there with me.
When I saw a bridge in the distance, hope bubbled up inside me. With Grandpa’s lessons in my heart, I wasn’t alone. But then, the forest turned into a confusing maze, and I started to panic. Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, I stumbled into a clearing and collapsed, totally exhausted.
That’s when a dog found me, and I heard a chorus of muffled voices: “There she is!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Waking up in a hospital bed, I saw Aunt Daphne by my side. “I’m sorry,” I managed, overwhelmed by regret. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Daphne.”
“Hush, dear. You’re safe now,” she said softly.
“I messed up,” I cried out. “Grandpa was right about everything!”
Aunt Daphne held my hand and smiled. “He always loved you, sweetie. Even when you were mad at him, even when you didn’t get why. Remember how upset you were about not getting that smartwatch just weeks before he passed?”
“I never appreciated him or anything he did for me. He was always there for me. Grandpa was both my Mom and Dad after their passing. But I—”
“He knew you’d come around, sweetie. He always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
At that point, she reached into a bag beside her chair, pulling out a brightly colored box. My breath hitched as I recognized the familiar blue wrapping paper: the same kind Grandpa always used for gifts.
“This is for you,” Aunt Daphne said gently, placing the box on my lap. The Xbox I wanted.
“Grandpa wanted you to have this,” Aunt Daphne continued. “He said when you learned the value of hard work and understood the importance of patience and perseverance, it would be yours.”
“I’ll be good, Aunt Daphne,” I promised. “I don’t need this anymore. I have learned my lesson.”
Aunt Daphne’s smile, this time brighter and filled with genuine joy, was all the reassurance I needed. Reaching to the bedside, I pulled out the small honey jar.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Would you like some honey, Aunt Daphne?” I asked, offering the sticky jar.
Taking the jar, she dipped a finger in and tasted the honey. “It’s sweet,” she said, her voice soft. “Just like you, Robyn. Just like you!”
Years have flown by since then. Now, at 28, a million miles from that grumbling teenager to a bee boss with two little terrors of my own (who thankfully love honey!), I learned a thing or two about responsibility.
Thanks, Grandpa! Thank you for everything you taught me! I whisper every single time I see the happiness on my kids’ faces when they enjoy honey.
That delicious honey is a reminder of the beautiful bond Grandpa and I shared.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images
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This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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