As their usual Sunday routine — Kristen and Gary spend their morning doing chores at home before heading to the grocery store to plan for the week. But when Gary gets a phone call from his friends, he bolts — leaving Kristen to fork up the $650 bill and find her own way home. Who is more important to Gary, and what can Kristen do to teach him a lesson?
For as long as I’ve been married to Gary, we have had a set Sunday routine. We wake up, have brunch and then hit the grocery store. It’s been this way for the past two years — it’s how the system runs smoothly.
Two plates of food on a table | Source: Unsplash
So, it’s a Sunday morning. I make us brunch while Gary sorts out the outside — mowing the lawn and so on.
“Are you ready?” Gary asked, as he came into the kitchen fresh from a shower.
“Yes,” I said. “Don’t forget to take the shopping bags.”
A lawn mower outside | Source: Unsplash
We get to the store, and my husband and I have a ball of a time. We walk the grocery store per aisle, making sure that we got everything we needed — and then some. We were both foodies, so cooking together was our love language.
Until Gary’s phone rang, and I saw a different side to my husband.
A shopping cart in a grocery store | Source: Unsplash
We were just about to start unloading our cart at the checkout when Gary’s phone erupted with a loud ring.
“Sorry, Kristen, but I’ve got to take this,” he muttered, stepping aside to answer. “You can start checking out, though.”
So I began to unload all of our groceries — the meat, the veggies, the fruit, not to mention the junk food and drinks that we had stocked up on, too.
Moments later, Gary returned, looking both agitated and excited.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
“Listen, I have to run,” he said, glancing at the groceries as the checkout guy went about scanning them.
“Where do you have to go?” I asked.
“The guys are waiting for me. We’re going to have some beers, barbecue, and watch the game together,” he said.
Gary put his hands in his pocket, and looked toward the exit.
A person holding beer with firewood in the background | Source: Pexels
I thought that he was waiting for us to finish at the grocery store, then drop me off at home before taking off to his friends.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
“What? Now?” I asked, puzzled. “But we’re about to check out!”
“I know, I know,” he said hurriedly, swinging the car keys. “But I can’t miss this, Kristen! It’s a big deal, you know that the guys and I barely hang out.”
A man holding car keys | Source: Unsplash
“How am I supposed to get all of this sorted out and get home? You’re getting a cab?” I protested, my eyes darting between Gary and the growing line behind us.
“What? No! I’m taking the car. But I’ll call you a cab!”
He hastily began to place items on the conveyor belt.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ve got to dash!”
And with that, he was gone.
A man walking away | Source: Pexels
“Do you need help with these?” the checkout guy asked. “We have people to help with these things.”
I nodded. I couldn’t believe that Gary had actually left me at a grocery store, just to go and drink with his friends.
“That will be $650, ma’am.”
A cashier at check out | Source: Unsplash
Of course, Gary had left without leaving any cash behind. It wasn’t that I relied on him for money — it’s just that we usually did this type of thing together. And $650 wasn’t what I had expected our grocery trip to come to.
I paid and wheeled the heavy cart outside. I stood looking at the parking lot, hoping that by some miracle, Gary would still be there.
That he would be waiting for me.
An upset woman looking down | Source: Unsplash
That he would have finally realized that he was wrong to leave me for an insignificant moment with his friends.
I deserved better.
After a few minutes, a cab drove by. The driver got out and helped me pack all of our groceries into the trunk, and we took off for my home.
A yellow cab | Source: Unsplash
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got with Gary.
What on earth could have possessed him to leave me alone? I felt hurt and disrespected. I hated everything about the way I felt. My husband had never made me feel this way before.
I got home and unloaded all of the groceries. I was in a foul mood by then. So, I made a cup of tea and took it to my bubble bath. I needed to relax before thinking about how to get back at Gary.
A cat among grocery bags | Source: Unsplash
As I was sitting in my bath, sniffing the calming scent of lavender, I decided that I would cook myself a fancy dinner with all the ingredients I had bought.
“Two can play at this game,” I thought, shuffling around the house in my socks and pajamas.
I put on some music and I began to cook — I prepared an elaborate feast, grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, couscous, and the works. All of our favorites.
A bubble bath with tea and a book | Source: Pexels
The kitchen smelled heavenly, and I was in the zone. While waiting for the oven, I set the table meticulously for one — my resolve hardening.
If there was one thing I knew about my husband — he would always check my social media, especially when he was away from me.
So, I took photos while I cooked, and posted them on my socials.
A woman cooking | Source: Pexels
My stories were always perfectly captured, and I usually shared my cooking online. Shortly after I posted every story, Gary would ‘like’ it — and every time he did that, I knew that my plan was working.
Sure enough, my husband would be with his friends — drinking and snacking and watching whatever game they said they were going to. But Gary wouldn’t eat there, not when he knew that I was cooking at home.
For good measure, I sent him a photo of my plate saying:
Dinner is fantastic tonight, wish you were here! xx
A person taking a photo of food | Source: Pexels
Later that night, Gary returned to a clean kitchen without leftovers. I was lounging comfortably with a glass of wine and a book — the evidence of my solo feast neatly packed away at the back of the fridge.
“Hey,” he began uncertainly, after he walked in and out of the pristine kitchen. “The house smells incredible. Did you save me some dinner?”
A glass of wine on a table | Source: Pexels
I shook my head, a slight smile playing on my lips.
“Actually, no,” I said. “But you missed a great meal. Everything was so fresh!”
Gary’s face fell as he glanced around to the dining table, as if hoping that there would be a plate of dinner for him.
“I didn’t have dinner,” he admitted.
“Oh? Why not?” I asked, crossing my legs.
A man sitting and covering his eyes | Source: Unsplash
“Because I saw your stories and I thought that there would be dinner for me, too,” he said.
I remained silent. My husband knew exactly what he had done wrong. I just needed him to admit it.
“Kristen,” he said. “I’m sorry I left you at the store like that. It was a last-minute thing with the guys and I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to be with them, I guess. And I knew that you could handle it.”
Gary walked to the fridge and returned with a beer. He opened his mouth to start talking again.
I raised a hand, stopping him mid-excuse.
A cold beer bottle | Source: Unsplash
“Gary, when you choose your friends over me, it’s more than just leaving me to handle the bills or whatever. It’s way more than that. You left me behind so that you could drink beer. You made me feel second to a barbecue. Today, I wanted you to experience coming home expecting a warm meal and finding nothing.”
“You did this on purpose?” he asked, shocked.
“It’s not just about food,” I continued. “It’s about the people you prioritize.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels
“I never looked at it that way,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”
Our conversation that night was long and honest — Gary needed to be reminded of the fact that we were a team and that we did everything together regarding our home. But it turns out that I also needed to be reminded that we could have our lives, too.
“Get out sometimes,” he said. “Go out with your friends, and leave me to take over the house. You’re allowed to escape the routine, too.”
A group of friends having a picnic together | Source: Pexels
When we went to bed that evening, I felt bad. I had never denied my husband food before, but there was a lesson to be learnt here.
Gary needed to know that he couldn’t leave me stranded in a grocery store without a car. Or without offering to help. Beer and barbecue did not qualify as an emergency.
“You’re right,” he said as he brushed his teeth. “I need to get my priorities straight.”
I’m not sure if Gary learned his lesson, but I do think that making him buttered toast and tea for dinner was a step in the right direction.
Buttered toast with jam | Source: Unsplash
I Accidentally Discovered My Mom Was Secretly Working as a Taxi Driver – Her Reason Left Me in Tears
I always thought I knew everything about my mom. At 65, she was the rock of our family, but all that changed the night I unknowingly hopped into the back seat of a taxi she was driving.
It was one of those moments that makes you question everything.
Seeing her behind the wheel, wearing a driver’s cap like she’d been doing it for years, threw me for a loop. I had no idea what was coming next, but I knew one thing for sure.
I. Needed. Answers.
A man sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
Life was going well for me.
At 35, I had a stable job, good friends, and a comfortable apartment in the city. My mom, Ellen, lived nearby, and we talked regularly. Everything in my world felt predictable until that night.
It was a Tuesday, and my coworker Jake and I had just wrapped up dinner at a local diner. We’d both had a long day at work and were joking around as we waited outside for the taxi he’d called.
A man standing outdoors at night | Source: Midjourney
“Man, I can’t wait to crash on my couch,” Jake said, rubbing his neck. “Today was brutal.”
“No kidding,” I replied.
My car had been acting up for weeks, so I was grateful Jake had ordered the ride. The cold night air nipped at my face, and I was more focused on warming my hands in my pockets than paying attention to the taxi that pulled up to the curb.
A taxi sign | Source: Pexels
Jake opened the back door, and we slid in, still chuckling about our boss’s terrible attempt at a motivational speech that afternoon. The car smelled faintly of lavender, and I noticed a knitted cushion on the driver’s seat.
For some reason, it felt oddly familiar, but I didn’t think much about it.
Feeling tired, I leaned back and glanced at the rearview mirror. That’s when my eyes met the driver’s eyes, and I immediately recognized them.
The eyes staring back at me weren’t a stranger’s. They were my mom’s.
A woman adjusting the rear-view mirror | Source: Pexels
“Mom?” I blurted out, my voice louder than I intended.
Jake snapped his head toward me. “Wait… what? That’s your mom?”
I nodded, but my mind was a whirlwind of questions.
My mom? Driving a taxi? Since when?
Mom’s eyes darted between the road and the rearview mirror. After a few awkward seconds, she let out a nervous laugh.
“Well,” she began. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
A woman driving a taxi | Source: Midjourney
The cat’s out of the bag? I thought.
“What the heck is going on, Mom? Why are you driving a taxi?” I blurted out.
Jake, ever the observant one, gave me a nudge.
“Hey, man,” he said. “If you need some privacy, I can hop out and catch another ride.”
I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s fine.”
Turning back to my mom, I asked again, more softly this time, “Mom… what’s going on?”
A man sitting in a taxi | Source: Midjourney
She sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “It’s not what you think, Samuel. I wasn’t planning on you finding out like this.”
“Well, here we are,” I said, my voice rising again. “How long has this been going on? And why?”
Jake shifted uncomfortably next to me.
“Uh… I’ll just get out here,” he said, already opening the door. “Catch you later, Sam.”
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered. I was so distracted that I barely registered his departure.
A man looking at his friend | Source: Midjourney
When he was gone, I moved to the front passenger seat, staring at my mom in disbelief.
“Mom, seriously. You’ve never even owned a car, and now you’re driving a taxi? Start explaining.”
She glanced at me, her face tired but resolute. “Alright. You deserve to know. But Samuel… please don’t get mad.”
I took a deep breath, steadying my thoughts. “I’m not mad. I’m… confused. And worried. You’ve never even driven before, Mom! When did this start? And why?”
Mom started driving again, keeping her eyes on the road.
A person driving a car | Source: Pexels
“I’ve been learning to drive for a few months now,” she said.
“A few months?” I repeated. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” she said.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Well, mission failed. I’m worried, Mom. Worrying is basically my full-time job now.”
She glanced at me. “Samuel, listen to me. It’s about Lily.”
I froze, my heart sinking. “Lily? What about her?”
A man in a taxi at night | Source: Midjourney
Lily is my niece, my sister Anna’s 10-year-old daughter. The brightest spark of joy in our family. Smart, curious, always asking a million questions about the world. But she’d been dealt a cruel hand in life.
A year ago, she was diagnosed with a rare terminal illness, and ever since, it has been like a dark cloud hanging over all of us.
“Mom… what about Lily?” I asked again.
“She told me something a few months ago,” Mom said, her voice thick with emotion. “She said she wanted to see the world before it was too late.”
A little girl | Source: Pexels
“What do you mean… see the world?”
“She wants to see cities, oceans, mountains. She wants to feel the sand under her feet and see the stars from the top of a mountain.” Mom’s voice broke slightly, and she took a shaky breath. “But Anna’s drowning in bills, and you… you’ve got your own life to manage. I couldn’t ask either of you for more.”
“So, you decided to drive a taxi?” I asked, the incredulity slipping back into my voice. “Mom, this isn’t safe. You’ve never done anything like this before!”
A worried man looking at his mother | Source: Midjourney
She shook her head. “I know. But what other choice did I have? Lily doesn’t have much time left. I had to do something.”
I leaned back in my seat, rubbing my hands over my face.
“Mom, you’re 65. Why not just tell me? We could’ve figured something out together.”
She shook her head. “You’ve worked so hard to get where you are. I didn’t want you to give up your savings or worry about this. This was something I needed to do.”
A woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney
I sighed.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. “You’re going to save up enough money and… what? Take Lily on a road trip?”
“Exactly,” Mom nodded. “A road trip. Just me, Anna, and Lily. We’d see the ocean, the Grand Canyon, the mountains. Wherever she wants to go.”
I shook my head, still trying to process everything. “And you were going to do all of this… alone?”
“I was going to try,” she said quietly. “For Lily.”
An older woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
I sat in silence for a moment, the weight of her words settling in. My mom, who had never driven a day in her life, was learning to drive at 65.
She was ready to do everything to make her granddaughter’s dream come true.
The next morning, I called Anna.
“Hey, we need to talk,” I told her.
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.
“It’s about Lily… and Mom.”
I explained everything, from the taxi driving to the road trip plan. There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Anna finally spoke, her voice trembling.
“She did all of this for Lily?”
A woman talking to her brother on the phone | Source: Pexels
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “But we’re not letting her do it alone.”
By the end of that week, we had a plan in place.
We rented a small RV. It wasn’t fancy, but it had everything we needed for a road trip.
Mom would drive, but I’d be there to help navigate. Anna arranged her work schedule, and we told Lily we had a surprise for her.
When we sat Lily down to tell her, her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“A trip?” she asked. “Like, a real trip?”
A little girl smiling | Source: Pexels
“Yes, sweetheart,” Mom said, pulling her into a hug. “We’re going to see the ocean, the mountains, and everything you’ve ever wanted to see!”
“I get to see the ocean?” Lily asked with a smile. “Oh, wow!”
“Yes,” I said, smiling at her. “We’re going to see it all.”
The trip was everything we’d hoped for.
We watched Lily’s eyes widen in awe as she gazed out at the Grand Canyon, her laughter echoing across the vast landscape.
A shot of the Grand Canyon | Source: Pexels
We stood on a beach in California, her little feet sinking into the sand as the waves lapped at her ankles. She chased seagulls, built sandcastles, and marveled at the endless stretch of water before her.
One night, we found ourselves camping in the mountains, the sky above us filled with stars. Lily lay between Mom and me, her eyes scanning the constellations.
“Grandma,” she whispered, “I think this is my favorite night.”
Mom smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Lily’s face. “Mine too, my love.”
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
On our final night, we sat around a campfire. The flames crackled softly, and the scent of toasted marshmallows filled the air.
Lily hugged Mom tightly, her small arms wrapped around her neck.
“Thank you, Grandma,” she whispered. “This is the best Christmas ever.”
Mom’s eyes glistened with tears as she held her. “Anything for you, my love.”
When we returned home, things felt different. Lily’s condition began to worsen, and we all knew what was coming.
A hospital room | Source: Pexels
But she carried those precious memories of the ocean, the stars, and the best night of her life, and it made all the difference.
The day we said goodbye to her was the hardest of my life. But as heartbreaking as it was, I knew one thing for certain. My mom was a hero.
Sometimes, heroes don’t wear capes. They don’t need to. They just need a little courage, a lot of love, and, in my mom’s case, a taxi driver’s license.
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Claire thought her whirlwind romance was the start of her happily ever after—until an overheard conversation between her mother and her husband, James. Betrayed by the two people she trusted most, Claire embarks on a journey to uncover their motives and reclaim her life.
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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