My Best Buddy

09/27/2025

I'm Liz (25F). My parents, David (50M) and Laura (48F), divorced when I was a teenager. It wasn't messy, but it was painful.

My mom is a strong woman who raised me and my brother Sam (28M) with dignity, even when things were hard. My dad eventually moved on, and a few years ago, he met Amanda (35F).

At first, Amanda was fine. Not my favorite person, but polite. I noticed, though, that she often compared herself to my mom — little digs like, "Well, I'm younger than your mom," or "I cook more modern food than she probably does."

Dad always shut it down quickly: "Amanda, don't compare yourself to Laura. She's the mother of my kids, and I'll always respect her."

Still, I could tell Amanda was insecure.

A few weeks ago, Dad invited us all to a family dinner to celebrate his engagement to Amanda. It was me, my brother Sam, my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, Dad, and Amanda.

At first, it was great — laughter, food, talk of wedding plans. My grandma even said warmly, "David, I'm glad you found happiness again, like you once had with Laura."

Then Amanda laughed — this sharp, awkward laugh — and decided to make a joke. But instead of laughter, the table fell quiet and my dad turned white. ⬇️

09/27/2025

I kept declining my grandpa's birthday invitations—11 years later, I only found a RUINED HOUSE where he'd lived.
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I'm Caleb, 31M. My grandpa, Arthur, raised me after my parents died. Gruff, old-school, storyteller, gardener, the best apple pies — HE WAS MY WORLD!

But when I turned 17, I moved out, and somewhere along the way, I started feeling ASHAMED OF HIM. My friends had mothers and fathers, and all I had was an OLD WRINKLED MAN.

He was old-fashioned, and his house smelled like memories and mothballs. I started making excuses, avoiding visits, and eventually, I stopped going to his birthday parties.

FOR 11 YEARS, I declined every invitation. Yet, he prepared a festive table full of delicious meals, hoping I would visit him. But every June 6th, when my phone buzzed with his name, guilt gnawed at me.

A few months ago, I didn't get his usual birthday invitation. I tried calling him, but the line was unreachable. Something pulled me back.

So, I drove along the dusty road, heart heavy with nostalgia. Then I saw it—smoke-stained siding, shattered windows, part of the roof collapsed. His house… DESTROYED BY FIRE.

I stepped onto the charred porch, ash in the air, memories of his coffee, creaking floorboards, his gruff "Get up!" swallowed by ruins.

"Grandpa?! ARE YOU HERE?!" I called, my voice shaking.

SILENCE.

Suddenly, a hand landed on my shoulder. I JUMPED.

"WHOA… EASY THERE!" said a young voice. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

09/26/2025

I came home earlier than usual that Friday, wrangling four kids and a trunk full of groceries. It was chaos, as always — spilled juice boxes, backpacks everywhere, my toddler screaming for a snack.

The kids rushed into the house first while I stayed behind, juggling the grocery bags. A moment later, my 8-year-old daughter came running back out, her voice high and urgent:

"Mom! Mom! The door of the storm shelter in the backyard is open!"

"What? I'm coming. Don't go closer!" I shouted, dropping the bags and running toward the yard. I told the kids to stay inside, and they gathered in the kitchen by the window, peeking outside.

In the backyard, the door to our storm shelter — the one my father had built years ago — stood wide open.

That alone made me freeze. My husband should've been at work, and nobody else ever touched that door. We only used the shelter during tornado season — and it wasn't tornado season.

My heart started pounding. For a split second, I thought about calling the cops. But before I could grab my phone, I heard it.

A woman's voice. Coming from inside the shelter.

I swallowed hard, stepped closer but stayed outside. "Hello? Who's down there?" I called, trying to sound firm.

And then, out of the dim opening, someone started climbing the steps.

When I saw the face, I thought I was hallucinating.

"WHAT THE HECK?!" I gasped, completely shocked.⬇️

09/26/2025

My boss humiliated my wife in front of the entire office. My wife and I both work at the same company — I'm the driver, and she's the boss's personal assistant.

Recently, he sent her to negotiate a big contract with some contractors, but things didn't go well, and the boss lost a key partner. My wife told me it wasn't her fault; the boss had insisted on ridiculous terms that the partners just couldn't agree to. But instead of owning up to it, he humiliated her in front of the whole office the next day.

"NO WONDER OUR PARTNERS BACKED OUT — SHE LOOKS LIKE A SCARECROW! ALICE IS A PRIME EXAMPLE OF WHAT NOT TO LOOK LIKE AT WORK! ALICE IS THE PERFECT CASE OF A MISTAKE HIRE!" That's just a taste of what he said.

I stood up for her, and we both got fired. But what he didn't know was that I'd be at his house that evening, ready to dish out some serious payback.

His wife answered the door, and she was exactly who I wanted to talk to

09/26/2025

I'm 35 (F) and have been married to my husband, Michael, for six years. For most of our marriage, I thought we had a good life.

One evening, while we were watching a movie on his laptop, an email popped up:

"Dear Mr. Bennett, we are delighted to invite you to our annual company party! This year's theme is 'Black and Gold.' You are welcome to bring a +1 (your wife). Address..."

Finally! After years of him attending the party alone, I was thrilled. But when I asked Michael, his face turned dark.

"Honey, trust me, you don't want to go. IT'S BORING. Just charts, numbers, endless speeches. I'll go, nod to my boss, and be back in a few hours."

I felt disappointed, but I let it go.

That night, I kissed him and walked him to the door.

But something clicked inside me. He worked so hard that evenings together were rare. I decided to surprise him and still go to the party.

As I entered, I smiled happily at the receptionist:

"Claire Bennett. Michael Bennett’s wife."

The man frowned.

"I'm sorry, but that's not possible. MR. BENNETT HAS ALREADY CHECKED IN — WITH HIS WIFE."

Embarrassed, I tried to peer into the crowd, insisting that it was a mistake, hoping Michael would explain.

And then my blood ran cold — through the glass door, I saw my husband hugging another woman and KISSING HER. It was his "wife."

I ran out of there.

I was crushed, but I was already planning my revenge when karma hit him faster than I expected — almost at midnight, I HEARD A KNOCK ON THE DOOR. ⬇️

09/26/2025

I'm 35F, living in the house my grandparents left me.

My pride and joy was the apple tree they planted 50 years ago — a sapling from my grandfather's family orchard. I grew up climbing it, picking apples, sitting in its shade. It wasn't just a tree — it was a family legacy.

Then Brad (40s) and Karen (38) moved in. Within weeks, they demanded I CUT IT DOWN.

Karen: "YOUR TREE BLOCKS OUR LIGHT. WE NEED SPACE FOR A HOT TUB. YOU NEED TO CUT IT DOWN."

Me: "It's on my property. The tree stays."

Brad: "IT'S JUST A TREE. STOP BEING SELFISH."

Last month, I went on vacation. Three days in, my phone buzzed with a neighbor's text: "Hey, I think Brad and Karen had some guys in their yard. Looked like tree work."

My stomach dropped.

When I came home, the apple tree — my grandparents' tree — was GONE. A stump, wood chips, sawdust. Half a century of family history — stolen.

I stormed to their house. Karen opened the door, smug smile plastered on her face.

Me: "HOW СOULD YOU DO THIS?!"

Karen (smirking): "YOU'RE WELCOME. NOW WE HAVE SUNLIGHT."

Me: "You had NO right."

Karen (rolling her eyes): "OH, PLEASE. IT WAS JUST A TREE."

I walked away shaking with rage. Hope you don't think it was the end. The next morning, I made a few calls. ⬇️

09/26/2025

My husband and I have a five-year-old daughter, and I'm six months pregnant with a boy. We've always focused on giving our daughter autonomy with food, so we set up a tiny kitchen for her.

It has a mini fridge and a pump sink, and she keeps her snacks there—fruit, yogurt, even some candy. She can "cook" little things like fruit salad, and since she can always have a treat when she wants, she doesn't obsess over it. Honestly, it's worked great.

But my MIL is staying with us for a while, and she HATES the idea. She thinks it's ridiculous and "spoils" our daughter.

Last night our babysitter canceled, so MIL watched her while we went out to dinner. Easy shift—bedtime is 7:30. But when we came home around 10, our daughter was still awake, sobbing. And her tiny kitchen was DESTROYED.

I rushed to hold her, and my husband went to talk to his mom. When he came back and told me what had happened, I COULDN'T BELIEVE my ears.

09/26/2025

09/26/2025

MY MIL THREATENED TO EXCLUDE MY DAUGHTERS FROM OUR FAMILY TRIP – IT TURNED OUT TO BE HER BIGGEST MISTAKE. ⬇️

09/26/2025

I SECRETLY SCANNED A BARCODE SOMEBODY STUCK ON MY HUSBAND'S BACK
For months, Daniel had been acting so distant—late nights, constant business trips, barely acknowledging me. We'd just found out we were expecting, and I was desperate to feel close to him. But he was slipping away.
One night, after a long trip, he crashed right after he showered. As he lay there, I noticed something faint on his back—A BARCODE. My heart sank. I'd just seen a video where a lover secretly tattooed a barcode to expose a guy's affair. Could that be it?
Hands shaking, I scanned it with my phone, bracing myself. But what popped up was even worse than I'd imagined. A number appeared, followed by a caption: "Call me ASAP. He has just months."