Leslie’s life consisted of meticulous housework and unappreciated dedication to her fiancé, Peter. When a mistaken delivery of a beautiful necklace leads to the breakup of her engagement, Leslie sets out to clear her name and find her true love.
Leslie, a middle-aged woman with a knack for organization, begins her day as usual with heavy housework. Her mornings are filled with the comforting routine she has perfected over the years.
She carefully irons shirts, smoothing out every wrinkle with precision. She hangs them in the correct order, ensuring the colors are sorted just right. She holds a list of tasks and recommendations she wrote for herself in her left hand.
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Since childhood, Leslie has loved making lists. They helped her with homework, cleaning the house, and even organizing parties for friends.
This innocent habit has turned into a constant life hack for her, making her daily routine more manageable and satisfying.
After ironing, it’s time for cleaning. Leslie glances at her list and starts dusting it. She turns mundane chores into a game, finding joy in completing tasks in order and making them more enjoyable with each checkmark on the list.
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She hums a little tune as she dusts, vacuums, and tidies up the living room, transforming her chores into a pleasant activity.
Finally, Leslie’s favorite part of the day arrives: cooking. She joyfully finds one of her lists with a lasagna recipe, Peter’s favorite dish. She loves cooking for Peter, even though he rarely shows appreciation.
She starts by preparing the ingredients, humming a familiar tune. The smell of tomatoes, garlic, and cheese fills the kitchen, making her smile.
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Everything is almost ready when she suddenly hears the doorbell. “So early?” Leslie thinks to herself, checking the clock, as Peter usually comes home later. Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, Leslie runs to the door and, opening it, sees a courier.
“This is Apartment 4421, right?” the courier asks hurriedly.
“Yes, yes, that’s correct. Who is it from?” Leslie inquires, curious about the unexpected delivery.
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“It’s not specified, miss…” the courier replies, glancing at his clipboard.
“Still Miss, but that will change soon,” Leslie adds with a small smile.
“Great…” the courier responds without much enthusiasm, handing over the package. As soon as Leslie takes it, he waves and quickly heads back to his car.
“Have a good evening, miss,” he calls out as he leaves.
Returning inside, Leslie opens the package and is shocked by what she sees.
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It’s a necklace with multicolored gemstones. She had never seen anything like it. “Peter? Could it really be my Peter?” Leslie thinks to herself.
Who else could it be if not her future husband? But this was so unlike him. Even the ring he gave Leslie was made of simple, cheap metal with a small stone. He never gave anything like this, and even giving flowers was a special occasion for him.
Finally, Leslie smiles broadly, puts on the necklace, and admires it in the mirror.
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She feels a rush of excitement and joy, something she hasn’t felt in a long time. However, her joy is short-lived. Suddenly, she smells something burning. “Darn! The lasagna!”
She rushes to save dinner but it’s too late; the food is burnt. She stares at the charred lasagna, feeling a pang of disappointment, but then glances at the necklace around her neck, and her smile returns, if only slightly.
The doorbell rings again, and this time it’s definitely Peter. Leslie rushes to the door, her heart pounding a bit faster. As soon as the door opens, Peter, a tall, stern man in a suit, steps inside.
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His face, set in a permanent scowl, immediately conveys his intolerance for mistakes. He coldly walks past his wife, handing her his jacket without a word of greeting.
“I’m home…” he mutters, his tone devoid of warmth.
“Welcome, dear! How was your day?” Leslie asks, trying to sound cheerful.
Leslie carefully hangs the jacket and follows Peter into the living room. She notices the tension in his shoulders and the hard line of his mouth.
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“As usual…” Peter replies gruffly. He suddenly stops, sniffing the air. “Wait, what’s that smell?”
Leslie feels a pang of anxiety. “Sorry, dear, I got distracted and…”
“The food, you burned the food!” Peter interrupts, his voice rising with anger. “How many times! I work all day like a horse, and at home, I find charcoal instead of dinner!”
“I got distracted by a gift, sorry…” Leslie tries to explain, her voice trembling.
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Peter, in a rage, turns and sees the necklace on Leslie’s neck. His eyes narrow, and he points at it aggressively as he approaches her.
“Where did you get that!?”
Leslie takes a step back, feeling the intensity of his anger. “What do you mean where, didn’t you give it to me?” she stammers, confused.
“Liar! I knew you had someone else. How foolish I’ve been! How long has this been going on?” Peter’s face contorts with fury.
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“Dear, you misunderstood. It must be a mistake. I’ll return the necklace immediately,” Leslie pleads, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Return it to whom!? Your lover? I can’t believe I wanted to build a family with someone like you,” Peter snarls. He takes off his ring and throws it on the floor with a clatter.
“Pack your things! Be gone by morning!” he shouts. After these words, he slams the door to his room, and the house falls silent. The echo of the door slam seems to reverberate through Leslie’s entire being.
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Leslie stands there, stunned. Everything happened so quickly that she felt as though her world had just crumbled.
Tears begin to stream from her eyes as the reality of the situation sinks in. She doesn’t even know what to do next. Wiping her tears, she goes upstairs, feeling numb.
She quickly packs her suitcase, knowing that arguing with Peter is pointless, but he will do as he pleases. Maybe when he cools down, he’ll forgive her, she thinks, clinging to a sliver of hope.
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Leslie places her belongings in the suitcase methodically, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.
She looks around the room that once felt like home but now feels foreign and cold. Each item she packs holds memories of the life she thought she was building with Peter.
With a heavy heart, she zips up the suitcase and sits on the bed, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her.
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To prove her innocence, Leslie decided to find the sender of the necklace to explain everything and hopefully get Peter’s forgiveness.
She looked around the house for the gift receipt, and after some searching, she found it tucked inside the packaging.
The address on the receipt was unfamiliar to her, but she was determined to clear her name. With a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and set out for the address.
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Upon arriving at the house, Leslie was amazed to see a huge mansion. The driveway was long and lined with tall, elegant trees.
She parked her car and walked up to the grand front door, feeling a mix of nervousness and determination. Gathering her courage, she knocked on the door.
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A butler opened it, his expression neutral but polite. His eyes flicked to the necklace around her neck, and without hesitation, he said, “Come in, Mr. Rodri is expecting you.”
Leslie was taken aback by his words. How could Mr. Rodri be expecting her? She followed the butler through the grand foyer, which was decorated with beautiful paintings and chandeliers that sparkled in the light.
She felt a bit out of place in her simple clothes, but she reminded herself of why she was there.
The butler led her to a large, elegant office. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with volumes of all sizes.
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Behind a large mahogany desk sat Mr. Rodri, a distinguished-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and kind eyes.
“Good afternoon,” Mr. Rodri greeted her warmly. “Please, have a seat.”
Leslie sat down, feeling slightly more at ease. “Excuse me, there’s been a misunderstanding. I received your necklace, but it was obviously sent to me by mistake,” she said quickly, wanting to explain the situation as soon as possible.
Mr. Rodri listened calmly, his expression thoughtful. “I apologize; it was indeed a mistake. You and my sister have the same address in different cities, and due to carelessness, the necklace was sent to you instead of her.”
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Leslie extended her hand with the necklace and handed it to Mr. Rodri. “It’s very kind of you to travel so far to return such a valuable item. You could have sold it or just kept it,” Mr. Rodri responded in surprise.
“That would be wrong,” Leslie said, shaking her head. “And there’s one more important thing. Because of this misunderstanding, my wedding was called off. My future husband is very jealous and didn’t believe it was a mistake…”
Mr. Rodri looked even more surprised. “Is it worth marrying someone who doesn’t trust you?” he asked gently.
Leslie looked down, her eyes filling with tears. She had been asking herself the same question but hadn’t dared to confront it. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
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Mr. Rodri seemed to consider this. “It’s already late. Why don’t you stay for dinner? We can discuss this more, and in the morning, we will go to your husband together to explain everything.”
Leslie hesitated. She didn’t want to be a burden, but the thought of facing Peter alone was daunting. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Rodri. Thank you,” she said softly.
Mr. Rodri smiled. “Please, call me John. And it’s no trouble at all. You’ve had a long day. Let’s take care of this together.”
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At dinner, Leslie feels as she has never felt before for the first time everything is for her. Mr. Rodri personally prepared everything, and Leslie only had to enjoy the food.
She didn’t even notice how she started talking to Mr. Rodri, laughing sincerely. For the first time in many years, she felt relaxed.
She wasn’t afraid to say or do something wrong; she felt safe around Mr. Rodri.
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They drank wine and laughed at each other’s jokes until Leslie suddenly stopped herself as if forbidding herself to be happy.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Rodri. My fiancé is waiting for me at home. Maybe I should go to bed.”
Leslie got up from the table and was almost gone, but Mr. Rodri gently grabbed her hand and stopped her.
“I have to confess, Miss Leslie, what I told you about my sister wasn’t entirely true.”
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“You see, I’ve long suffered from loneliness, finding it very hard to meet someone who values me for more than my money. I sent that necklace randomly, losing hope of ever finding love, but it ended up with you.
“I understand this is difficult for you, but I would like to spend more time with you if you’re willing.”
“I… I would like to, but…” Leslie’s eyes filled with tears, and she ran to her room. She couldn’t understand her feelings. She did everything for Peter, and she wanted to return to Peter so he would forgive her.
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But around Mr. Rodri, she felt genuine, drawn to him. “This is wrong,” she told herself, closing her eyes in bed.
In the morning, Leslie and Mr. Rodri set off to see Peter. The car was filled with tension, a heavy silence hanging in the air.
“Sorry about last night, it was the wine…” Mr. Rodri said, breaking the silence. Leslie gently placed her hand on his.
“It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for,” she reassured him, giving a small, comforting smile.
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When they arrived at Peter’s house, the tension only grew. Leslie took a deep breath as they walked to the door.
Inside, Peter looked up, his expression a mix of anger and sorrow. Together, Mr. Rodri and Leslie explained everything.
Mr. Rodri apologized sincerely before stepping back outside to give them space.
Peter turned to Leslie, his eyes softening. “I’m sorry, Leslie. I regretted my words the moment I said them. I miss you so much.”
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He took out Leslie’s ring, which she had left behind, and got down on one knee. “Please, let’s start over. Put the ring back on.”
Leslie looked at the ring, then at Peter. She couldn’t extend her hand. Her eyes filled with tears as she turned towards Rodri’s car. She watched him, ready to drive away forever.
“Everything is as you wanted, Leslie. What’s wrong? Why are you hesitating?” she asked herself. The sound of Rodri’s car engine starting snapped her out of her thoughts. At that moment, Leslie realized she didn’t want to go back to her old life.
“Sorry, Peter. Goodbye,” she said softly and ran back to Rodri’s car. This time, she was sure she had made the right choice.
She felt a sense of relief and newfound hope as she reached for the car door, knowing she was heading toward a future where she could truly be happy.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Sam is a nurse whose only dream is to become a doctor. During her night shift, she meets a lonely little girl. Sam is shocked to find out that the girl will never be able to finish her list of dreams because of her illness. She decides to complete the girl’s tasks to make her feel better.
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My Halloween decorations kept getting stolen and ruined, but my world was turned upside down when I discovered who was behind it
I had just moved to a new town, hoping for a fresh start, but my neighbor Catherine made sure to ruin everything. She complained constantly and even stole my Halloween decorations. Determined to catch her in the act and get revenge, I set up a camera. What I discovered was far more shocking than I ever expected.
I had just finished setting up the Halloween decorations at my new house, feeling a little proud of how it all looked. Orange pumpkins, spider webs, and cute ghosts lined the front yard, ready for the kids who would come trick-or-treating.
It felt good to be settled after moving to this town just a month ago. My job was great, the house was cozy, and the town itself seemed charming—except for one thing: my neighbors.
Since the day I moved in, it felt like they had it out for me. It started with small things—comments about where I parked or how I didn’t trim my bushes the “right way.”
They would glance at me disapprovingly if I said “hi” in a way they didn’t like. It didn’t take long for the hostility to grow. One evening, they even called the police because I had my music on—at 7 p.m.! I couldn’t believe it.
The worst of them all was Catherine, who lived across the street. She was relentless, always coming over to complain about something. Once, she even stole my flowerpots, claiming they “didn’t fit the neighborhood vibe.”
I was beyond frustrated. Still, as I looked at my newly decorated house, I hoped at least this would be left alone. Just one thing that could bring some joy.
I’ve loved Halloween for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t just about the decorations or the candy; it reminded me of simpler times, warm childhood memories.
But this year, it felt different—darker. There was a hole in my heart where my dreams of having children used to be. It hurt to know I’d never create those special memories for my own kids.
Halloween, though, allowed me to heal a little, one bag of candy at a time. I poured it into a pumpkin, setting it out for the kids, and went inside, hoping for the best.
The next morning, my heart sank. All my decorations were gone. The only pumpkin left had been smashed, and the candy stolen. Tears welled up as I covered my mouth, overwhelmed by frustration and sadness. This was too much. I wasn’t going to let it slide. I knew who had done it, and I was determined to make her pay!
I stormed across the street and pounded on Catherine’s door, my anger bubbling over.
“Catherine! Open up! You’re a real witch!” I shouted, not caring who else heard.
After a few moments, the door flew open, and there she was, glaring at me.
“Have you lost your mind?” she yelled, hands on her hips.
“What did you do with my decorations?” I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.
“I didn’t touch your stupid decorations! Though they looked awful, if you ask me!” she shot back. “But I’m not ruining Halloween for the kids.”
“Just like you didn’t steal my flowerpots?” I screamed, stepping closer.
“Maeve, you’re crazy! You have no proof it was me!” she shouted, her face red. Then, with a loud slam, she shut the door in my face.
I stood there, shaking. “Witch!” I yelled at the closed door.
As I stood there, I realized that some of the neighbors had come outside, watching the whole scene. Their curious eyes were fixed on me, and I could already imagine the whispers behind my back.
They probably thought I was the crazy one now. I just wanted to do something nice for Halloween, and it had all been ruined. My throat tightened, and I could feel the tears building up again. Without another word, I turned and walked back home, my chest heavy with sobs.
Inside, I sat down, wiping my eyes. I couldn’t let this go. Halloween meant too much to me. I refused to let Catherine or anyone else destroy it. That evening, I made up my mind.
I went to the store, buying new decorations and candy. When I finished putting everything back up, I carefully placed a small camera among the decorations. This time, if she messed with them, I would have proof.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to a strange noise. My heart raced as I looked out the window. All my decorations were gone. Again. Anger bubbled up inside me as I quickly threw on my slippers and rushed outside.
The cool night air hit my face as I ran to grab the camera I had set up earlier. This time, I was sure I would catch Catherine in the act.
I hurried back inside and turned on the video. My eyes narrowed, ready to see Catherine, but to my shock, it wasn’t her. Instead, it was a boy—no older than 12—taking my decorations and candy. I stared at the screen, confused. I didn’t recognize him from the neighborhood.
Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and followed the direction the boy had gone. I passed house after house, but none of them seemed like his home.
I knew all the local kids, and he wasn’t one of them. Finally, I found myself standing in front of an old, abandoned house. A strange feeling came over me, urging me to go in.
Inside, it was dark and cold, the air damp and heavy. I pulled my cardigan tighter, my steps careful on the creaky wooden floors. Suddenly, I saw a faint light coming from a room. I walked in and froze.
There, huddled together, were two children—the boy from the video and a little girl, barely four years old. They were trembling, surrounded by my Halloween decorations.
“Please, don’t turn us in to the police!” the boy cried, his voice shaking. “My sister loves Halloween, but we don’t have any money. I didn’t want to steal, I swear! You just had the best decorations,” he said, his eyes wide with fear.
I stood there, staring at them. Two small kids in this awful, broken house. They looked so scared, and to be honest, I was scared too. The decorations didn’t matter anymore.
“Why are you here? Where are your parents?” I asked.
“We don’t have any,” the boy replied. “We ran away from our foster parents because they weren’t treating us right.”
I knelt down to their level, trying to understand. “What are your names?”
“I’m David, and this is my sister, Nicole,” he said, putting his arm around the little girl.
“My name is Maeve,” I told them, trying to sound reassuring. “You can’t stay here. It’s too cold. Come with me.”
David looked up at me, fear in his eyes. “Are you going to call the police?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m going to take you home,” I said, reaching out my hands to them both.
David and Nicole had been staying with me for several days now, and during that time, I had learned more about them through social services. It broke my heart to hear that their foster parents hadn’t even reported them missing.
How could anyone just forget about two children? I knew right then that there was no way they could go back. So, I filed the paperwork for temporary custody.
It was a bit of a process, but the social worker said the kids could stay with me even while we waited for everything to go through. That was a relief—I wasn’t ready to let them go.
The kids were amazing. At first, Nicole was so quiet, barely saying a word. She would just sit by herself, hugging her little stuffed bunny. But as the days went by, I saw her slowly start to relax.
She began to smile, laugh, and even talk a little. David, too, seemed happier. He helped me around the house, always asking if there was anything he could do.
Having them there made the house feel different—warmer, more alive. I hadn’t realized how empty it had felt before. It was as if David and Nicole had always been a part of my life.
In the evenings, I would read them bedtime stories. Every time, I felt tears welling up. I never thought my dream of having children would come true in such an unexpected way. But here we were, and it felt right.
On Halloween night, there was a knock at the door. Expecting trick-or-treaters, I smiled as I opened it, but instead of kids in costumes, I saw two police officers standing there.
“Can I help you, officers?” I asked, feeling my stomach drop a little.
“Your neighbor reported some strange screaming coming from your house,” one of the officers said. I followed his gaze across the street, where Catherine stood, arms crossed and a smug grin on her face. Of course, it was her.
Just then, a loud shout echoed from inside my house. I smiled sheepishly. “Oh, that. I’m showing the kids a scary movie for Halloween. You know, something fun for the night,” I explained, stepping aside. “Would you like to come in and check?”
The officers nodded and followed me inside. As we walked into the living room, one of them asked, “Are these your children?”
“Yes,” I said, the word slipping out naturally. “These are my children.”
It was the first time I had said it, but I realized it was true. In such a short time, they had become my family. I couldn’t imagine my life without them now.
The officers glanced at David and Nicole, who were sitting on the couch, eyes wide as they watched the scary movie. Every so often, they would pull the blanket over their heads, then peek out again.
The officers smiled, clearly seeing there was nothing wrong. “Have a good evening, ma’am,” they said, heading out the door.
As they walked out, I stepped onto the porch and waved at Catherine, who was still watching from across the street.
She looked furious, her face red with frustration. With a loud huff, she stomped her foot and marched back inside. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.
The next morning, I did what I had been thinking about for days—I applied to adopt David and Nicole. From that point on, I never spent another holiday alone. Every day was filled with laughter, love, and the warmth of family. I finally had what I had always dreamed of: I could call myself “Mom.”
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