My name is Melanie, and I want to share the most important day of my life. I had just returned home after a long and tiring day at work.
My best friend asked me to watch her kids for just one hour while she ran an errand. I said yes without thinking too much about it. She was in a hurry, and I didn’t want to let her down.
As time went by, I noticed that my friend was taking longer than expected. I tried calling her, but there was no answer. I started to worry. After a while, I realized something was really wrong.
I ended up calling the police to file a missing person report. They took my concerns seriously and began looking for her. While they searched, I took care of her children as if they were my own. I fed them, played with them, and tucked them in at night.
All I wanted was to relax with a glass of wine and enjoy a silly romantic comedy. You know, the kind of movie where you don’t have to think too hard, just laugh at the easy-to-predict story and shed a few tears at the happy ending.
But life, as it often does, had different plans.
I was just about to hit play when there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I paused, looking through the peephole.
To my surprise, it was Christina, my best friend. And she wasn’t alone. She had her two kids, Dylan, who was five, and baby Mike, only two months old, wrapped up in her arms.
“Melanie, I need your help,” she said, her voice shaky. “I have to see a doctor right away. Can you watch the boys for an hour? Just an hour, I promise.”
Chris looked worried, and honestly, it scared me. She was usually the strong one, the one who had everything under control. Seeing her like this, so vulnerable, was shocking.
I felt a knot in my stomach, but I couldn’t say no to her. How could I?
“Of course, Chris,” I said, trying to sound more sure than I felt. “Come in, let’s get you sorted.”
She handed me baby Mike and kissed Dylan on the forehead.
“I’ll be back soon,” she said, her eyes wide with an urgency I’d never seen before. And then she was gone, leaving me with two kids and a head full of questions.
That hour turned into two. Then three. Night came, and Chris still hadn’t returned.
I called her phone many times, but it went straight to voicemail. My worry grew into full-blown panic. I put the boys to bed, trying to hide my fear from them.
Days went by with no word from Chris. I filed a missing person report, hoping the police could find her quickly. In the meantime, I was left to care for Dylan and Mike. I told myself it was temporary. Just until Chris came back.
But she didn’t come back. Weeks turned into months, and the boys started to feel more like my own kids than Chris’s. They began calling me “Mom,” a habit that started naturally and felt strangely right.
The first time Dylan called me Mom was at his school’s parent-teacher meeting. He ran up to his friends and proudly introduced me, “This is my mom!”
My heart nearly burst. I knew then that I couldn’t just be their temporary guardian anymore.
They needed stability, a real home, and someone who would be there for them always. So, I began the legal process to adopt them. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.
Mike’s first steps were a joyful celebration, a moment of pure happiness that we shared. Dylan’s first soccer game, where he scored a goal and ran to me shouting, “Did you see that, Mom? Did you see?”
Those moments brought us together as a family.
Fast forward seven years, and we went to a seaside town for vacation.
The ocean breeze felt refreshing, and the boys were laughing, carefree and happy. We walked along the shore, collecting shells and splashing in the waves. It was perfect.
Then, out of nowhere, Dylan stopped. He pointed to a woman in the crowd.
“Is that her?” he asked, his voice trembling. I followed his gaze and felt my heart stop. It was Chris. Older and worn, but still Chris.
“Yes, it is,” I whispered, unable to believe my eyes.
Dylan didn’t wait.
He took off running toward her, leaving Mike and me standing in the sand, our breaths caught in our throats. My heart raced as I watched my son sprint toward the woman who had left him so long ago.
“Why did you leave us?” Dylan shouted, his voice rising over the sound of the waves. “Do you know what you did? We waited for you! Mom waited for you!”
The woman turned, eyes wide with shock, but then her expression hardened.
“You must have me confused with someone else,” she said, her voice flat and cold. “I’m not who you think I am.”
Dylan stood his ground, tears streaming down his face. “LIAR! I DON’T CARE
He turned then and pointed at me, his eyes filled with fierce protectiveness that made my heart ache.
I walked over, holding Mike close.
“Chris, would you say something, please? We deserve to know what happened,” I said.
But she turned away, staring at the ocean with a hard expression.
I placed my hand on Dylan’s shoulder.
“Dylan, let’s go,” I said softly, but he shook his head, not finished yet.
“When I grow up,” Dylan continued, his voice breaking but strong, “I’ll make a lot of money and buy my real mom a house and a car and do anything to make her smile! Because she deserves it! And you should spend your life alone!”
With that, he turned away, leaving Chris—or whoever she said she was—standing there, shocked and silent.
We left the beach quietly, the weight of the meeting heavy on us. The boys were silent, their usual chatter replaced by the heavy silence of unresolved feelings.
There was no cheering the boys up as we went to the hotel to check in. It took a while, but we finally headed to our room.
I was relieved to get away from the beach, but the sight that greeted us wasn’t comforting.
The bathroom was a mess, clearly untouched by the cleaning staff.
“Just what we need,” I muttered under my breath. I picked up the phone and called the front desk. “Hi, we just checked into room 212, and the bathroom hasn’t been cleaned. Can you send someone up, please?”
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a cleaning lady standing there, her head down, face hidden by a worn-out cap.
“Come in,” I said, stepping aside.
She moved slowly, carefully, and something about her seemed familiar.
When she finally looked up, I gasped. It was Chris again!
“You have to be kidding me!” I yelped.
“What are you doing here?” Dylan asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. “Are you following us?”
Chris—or Alice, as her name tag read—looked like she was about to collapse.
“I… I work here. I came to clean the bathroom,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But now… I’m sorry, Melanie. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“I was desperate when I came to you that day,” she continued, tears streaming down her face. “I had fallen into a really dark place, and I just… I couldn’t take care of two kids.”
“Then you should’ve asked for help,” I snapped. “I would’ve done anything I could…”
My voice trailed off as I stared into Chris’s eyes. The truth hit me hard: The woman I’d always thought was so strong had been struggling in secret, unwilling or unable to ask for help.
Her leaving the boys with me was the most she could do. It was her last, desperate attempt to save her children and herself. And it broke my heart.
“It never had to be this way, Chris.”
“There was no other choice,” she replied, her voice full of regret.
Dylan’s face hardened, and he stepped in between Chris and me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar, pressing it into Chris’s hand.
“Don’t worry about the bathroom,” he said coldly. “We will clean it ourselves.”
Chris stood there, tears welling up in her eyes, as Dylan shut the door in her face. He then turned to me, and I pulled him into a tight hug.
I held my boys close, comforting them as best I could. Part of me was grateful we had seen Chris. We finally had some closure on why she did what she did, even if Dylan and Mike were too young to understand.
“Can we go home, Mom?” Dylan asked. “I don’t want to see her again.”
We left within the hour.
Back home, life slowly returned to normal. The meeting with Chris became a past chapter, something we had faced and moved on from.
We had survived abandonment, heartache, and uncertainty, but we had come out stronger and more united than ever. Our family was a testament to the power of love and strength, and as I watched my boys play, I knew we could face anything together.
I Told My Friend She Married a Useless Man, and Now She Hates Me
I take it that everyone of us must navigate our own lives and take responsibility for our decisions? However, it is in our nature as humans to want to help friends who are actually in need. However, what would you do if your friend—the one you always stand by—started confiding in you about all of their issues, repeatedly, and with no sign of stopping? This Reddit member is exactly in that predicament. She wondered if she was managing the matter with her buddy correctly, so she looked to the large internet community for advice.
I(32F) am a single mother of two kids (6M and 5m F). I am a single mother by choice (my kids are donor conceived).
I am lucky enough to have a good job (French teacher in a private school), and a paid off house (parents’ life insurance and inheritance).
Before I had either of my kids, I made sure to have a year’s living expenses saved, then I would take a sabbatical to recover from birth, as well as bond with my kids. While on sabbatical, I still tutor some kids for some extra income.
My friend (34F), just had a baby 2 months ago. She is the breadwinner in her household, and her husband has been unemployed since he was laid off during COVID.
It was great to be pregnant at the same time, as well as having a friend with a newborn. But it has turned sour.
She has been saying how jealous she is of me being able to take off a whole year from work, how she would have loved to not worry about losing their home, how she doesn’t even have a couple hundred dollars in her savings account, let alone a whole year’s worth of living expenses….
I usually ignore it, or brush it off, because I kind of can understand the stress she is under.
Well, starting about 10 days ago, she started hinting at not being able to afford daycare, and any mention of her husband taking care of their kid is brushed off. Then she started remarking on how much free time I must have, which I deflected by saying -truthfully- that being a single mom to a baby and a small kid left me no free time actually.
Then last night she came out with it, and asked if I could “do her a favor” and watch her kid while she’s at work. I was firm, but polite, when I said that I couldn’t, that I am not capable of watching two kids under 6 months.
She started almost begging me, saying she can’t afford daycare, and if she is not back at work, she will lose her job, and they will end up homeless. I again brought up her husband, and she said that he was not good with kids, and isn’t capable of taking care of her kid.
I kept saying no, she kept pushing, until it escalated to her calling me heartless, and me telling her that it’s not my problem she chose to have a kid with a useless man.
Now she blocked me, I am feeling very guilty about what I said, and feeling like an AH.
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