After returning home from a month-long vacation, a woman wakes up the next morning to discover a stranger sleeping on her couch

“But when will I get to see grandchildren? You’re too focused on your career, and I’m worried you’ll never settle down. Don’t you want a family someday?”

Megan sighed, gripping the wheel a little tighter as she tried to keep calm. She loved her mother, but this conversation was becoming all too familiar.

“Mom, I really can’t talk about this right now,” she said, faking a crackle in her voice. “The signal’s bad. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Before Dina could continue, Megan quickly ended the call, feigning static noises to make it seem like the connection had failed.

She glanced down at the phone and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Pulling into her driveway, Megan parked the car and stared at her house for a moment.

She felt drained, both from the conversation with her mother and from the past few weeks.

What was supposed to be a restful vacation had turned into yet another working trip, with her phone constantly buzzing with problems at work.

For the entire month, she hadn’t been able to fully unplug. She didn’t even know what “rest” meant anymore.

After grabbing her bags from the trunk, Megan walked inside her dimly lit house, too tired to bother turning on all the lights.

She set her bags down by the door and paused for a moment. Something felt off. Glancing around, she noticed that one of the windows on the first floor was slightly open.

Puzzled, she tried to remember if she had left it like that before leaving for her trip. She shrugged it off, assuming she had simply forgotten to close it. It had been a busy month, after all.

Megan shut the window, turned off the last light on the first floor, and headed upstairs.

She barely had the energy to change into her pajamas. She kicked off her shoes, not even bothering to check if everything was in order.

Without thinking, she collapsed into her bed, letting her head sink into the pillow.

The familiar comfort of her bed was a relief, and within moments, Megan was fast asleep, her mind already letting go of the chaos of the day.

Little did she know that tomorrow would bring an unexpected surprise—one she never could have anticipated.

The next morning, Megan was jolted awake by the buzzing of her phone. Half-asleep, she groaned as she answered it, recognizing the overly enthusiastic voice of her assistant, Lisa.

Lisa’s high-pitched chatter filled her ears, rattling off a long list of meetings and tasks for the day at a speed that made Megan’s head spin.

“Lisa, please… slow down,” Megan mumbled, trying to focus as she stumbled out of bed. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder while getting dressed, lazily brushing her teeth, and starting her coffee machine.

The warmth of the coffee was barely hitting her system when something made her stop mid-sip—loud snoring coming from the living room.

Her body tensed as her brain struggled to process what she was hearing. Who is in my house?

“Lisa, I’ll have to call you back,” she said abruptly, hanging up the phone before Lisa could respond. Heart racing, Megan cautiously walked toward the living room, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Peeking inside, she couldn’t believe her eyes. A man—fully dressed with boots still on—was sprawled across her couch, snoring loudly.

Dirty footprints trailed from the window she had closed the night before to where the man now lay. Megan’s mind raced with questions. Who is this guy? How did he get in?

Her eyes narrowed, and without thinking twice, she darted to the kitchen, grabbing the nearest weapon she could find: a broom.

She marched back to the living room and jabbed the man with the handle.

He stirred, groggy and confused, blinking as he rubbed his eyes.

“Who are you?” Megan demanded, doing her best to keep her voice steady despite the panic rising in her chest.

The man, still half-asleep, sat up slowly. “Uh… I’m George,” he muttered, his words slurring together. “How did I get here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing!” Megan snapped, frustration mixing with confusion. “Why are you on my couch?”

George blinked, clearly disoriented, as he looked around. “I don’t remember much… I was out with some friends, and then… nothing. I guess I drank too much.”

Megan sniffed the air and immediately recognized the stale scent of alcohol. It didn’t take long to piece together what had happened—George had been blackout drunk and somehow ended up in her house.

Her anger started to fade, replaced with a mix of disbelief and reluctant sympathy.

“Well, you’re lucky I didn’t call the police,” she said, setting down the broom. “Take these.”

She handed him a bottle of aspirin and watched as he gratefully swallowed a couple of pills.

“I need to leave for work, but this time make sure you use the door when you go. Not the window.”

George, still looking sheepish, nodded. “Thank you… and I’m really sorry.”

Megan sighed. “Just… don’t make a habit of it.” With that, she grabbed her things and headed out the door, leaving George to process his own mess.

That evening, Megan drove home after a long, exhausting day at work. Her eyes felt heavy, her body sore from sitting in meetings and staring at screens for hours. Her stomach growled in protest, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything substantial all day.

There hadn’t been a single free moment to stop for groceries, and she sighed at the thought of coming home to an empty fridge.

As Megan walked into the house, she froze. The familiar smell of her dim living room was replaced by something unexpected—the soft glow of candles flickered around the room, casting a warm, inviting light.

The dining table, which she had left bare that morning, was now set with plates, silverware, and an array of delicious-smelling dishes.

At the center of it all stood George, looking slightly awkward and sheepish but also determined. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he saw her expression.

“What is this?” Megan asked, her voice a mixture of shock and confusion.

George shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“I… I felt really bad about what happened this morning,” he explained, his voice soft. “So I cleaned up the mess I made, and I wanted to cook you dinner. You know, to make it up to you.”

Megan blinked, still processing the scene before her. She had expected to come home, collapse onto the couch, and figure out how to deal with her hunger.

Instead, she found this—a stranger who had passed out on her couch that morning, now standing in her living room with an entire meal prepared.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, still a bit in disbelief.

“I know,” George replied, “but I wanted to. It’s the least I could do after… well, everything.” He offered a small, apologetic smile.

George began to gather his things, ready to leave and give her space, but Megan stopped him.

“Wait,” she said softly, not wanting him to rush off just yet.”

You’ve already gone through all this trouble to make such a nice dinner. Stay and have it with me. I can’t eat all of this by myself, anyway.”

George hesitated, his uncertainty clear.

“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Megan smiled warmly, her exhaustion from the day fading just a little. “Yes, I’m sure. Besides, it would be nice to have some company.”

They both sat down at the table, and as the scent of the warm food filled the air, Megan couldn’t help but feel a surprising sense of calm.

The hectic day seemed to slip away, replaced by an evening of unexpected comfort.

They sat down at the table, the soft glow of the candles creating a peaceful atmosphere. As they began to eat, the earlier tension seemed to melt away with each bite.

George, now more comfortable, started telling Megan about his wild night out with friends. He laughed as he explained how too much fun and a little too much to drink had led him to her couch, of all places.

“I honestly didn’t even realize I wasn’t home until I woke up this morning,” George chuckled, shaking his head.

“And when I saw you standing there with a broom, I thought I was in serious trouble.”

Megan couldn’t help but laugh along, her earlier frustration fading with each word.

The stress she had carried home after a long day at work seemed to vanish, replaced by the simple joy of sharing a meal and a conversation with someone who made her laugh. It felt like a break from the routine, like a breath of fresh air.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Megan felt completely relaxed. George was easy to talk to, and the conversation flowed naturally. They joked, swapped stories, and enjoyed the food he had so thoughtfully prepared.

My MIL and Her Friends Devoured Our $1000 Wedding Cake the Evening Before Our Wedding, So I Decided to Teach Her a Lesson

I was heartbroken and furious when I discovered my mother-in-law Linda and her friends had devoured my $1000 wedding cake. I couldn’t believe they would intentionally ruin my special day, leaving only crumbs behind. But I was determined to teach them a lesson, and hence, my revenge plan began to take shape.

“No way I’m paying. It’s too expensive for something that tasted disgusting, JUST LIKE YOUR TASTE IN EVERYTHING,” Linda sneered, barely glancing at me.

I stood frozen in my living room doorway, grocery bags slipping from my hands.

I could feel the tears welling up as I took in the scene.

My beautiful wedding cake, the one I had saved for months to afford, was gone. Only crumbs and a half-eaten slice remained on the table while Linda and her friends lounged on the couch, looking pleased with themselves.

“Linda, how could you?” I choked out as I approached the empty box. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“That cake was for my wedding, Linda! It cost a thousand dollars! How will I replace it so soon?” I asked angrily.

“Oh, please, Emily,” Linda rolled her eyes. “It was just a cake. And honestly, it wasn’t even that good!”

“But it was important to me!” I snapped, tears streaming down my face. “You had no right to touch it!”

“Get over it, Emily,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a cake, and it’s not like you have good taste in anything anyway.”

Linda and her friends exchanged amused glances before slowly getting up. “We’re leaving. But don’t expect any money from me,” she said smugly.

As they sauntered out, leaving a trail of crumbs and laughter behind them, I sank to the floor. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. The wedding was less than a day away, and now my beautiful cake was ruined.

Linda had never liked me because she wanted Alex to marry someone rich. From the moment we met, her disdain was evident. She constantly found reasons to belittle and undermine me, criticizing my choices, style, and personality at every opportunity.

But this… this was too much!

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

I couldn’t let this ruin everything. I had worked too hard and come too far to let Linda’s spiteful actions destroy my wedding. I wiped my tears and stood up.

First, I needed to call the bakery. Maybe, just maybe, they could make another cake in time. I grabbed my phone and dialed the number, praying they’d have good news.

But I was met with disappointment. No bakery was ready to take my order.

It was then that Sarah’s name popped into my head. I grabbed my phone and called her.

Sarah was not only my best friend and maid of honor but also an amazing baker. If anyone could help me, it was her.

“What? How dare she?” Sarah exclaimed as I told her everything. “Don’t worry, Emily, I’m coming over. We’ll fix this, okay?”

When Sarah walked into my kitchen that afternoon, she immediately gave me a hug. “We got this, Emily. Let’s make a cake even better than the original.”

We rolled up our sleeves and got to work. Sarah took charge, giving me instructions and keeping me focused. We mixed the batter, baked the layers, and whipped up the frosting. The kitchen filled with the comforting smells of vanilla and sugar, lifting my spirits.

“How are you holding up?” she asked as we started decorating the cake.

“I’m still upset, but I’m determined not to let Linda ruin this for me,” I replied, carefully smoothing the frosting. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Of course, Emily. That’s what friends are for,” Sarah said with a warm smile.

Despite the time crunch, we worked efficiently. We piped flowers, added delicate details, and made sure every inch of the cake was perfect.

As the night wore on, exhaustion set in, but we pushed through. Finally, as the first light of dawn crept through the windows, we stepped back to admire our work.

The cake was beautiful, filled with love and care. It wasn’t the same as the original, but it was even more special because Sarah and I had made it together.

“Emily, this cake is stunning,” Sarah said, wiping a smudge of frosting from her cheek. “Linda has no idea what she’s up against.”

I smiled, feeling a surge of confidence. “You’re right. I’m not done yet. I’m going to teach Linda a lesson she’ll never forget.”

And then came the moment we were waiting for.

At my wedding reception, the new cake Sarah and I had made was set up, and it looked stunning. Guests mingled, chatting happily, but I noticed Linda watching me with a disappointed look. She had expected a meltdown, not this.

Just before we cut the cake, I took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone.

Alex stood beside me, and I felt a pang of sadness as I looked into his eyes. He loved his mother, and he had no idea what she had done to me, to us.

“Thank you all for being here today,” I began, my voice steady. “I have something to share before we celebrate with this beautiful cake…”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. I signaled to the technician, who played the security footage I had hidden in my living room. The video showed Linda and her friends eating the original cake and making snide comments about me.

Gasps echoed around the room as everyone watched. Linda’s face turned red, and she looked around, desperate for an escape!

“I installed a camera because I knew Linda didn’t like me,” I explained calmly. “Sorry, Alex,” I added, turning to him. “I suspected she might do something to sabotage our wedding. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had to be prepared.”

The guests murmured in shock, glancing between Linda and the screen. Linda’s friends tried to slip away, but the attention was already on them.

“Despite this setback, we have a beautiful new cake thanks to my amazing friend Sarah,” I continued. “This day is about love and celebration, and I won’t let anything ruin it.”

But this wasn’t over. I had more planned, and Linda had no idea what was coming next.

Suddenly, I saw Alex making his way toward Linda, his face flushed with anger. He reached her just as she was trying to blend into the crowd.

“Mom, how could you?” Alex’s voice was loud enough to silence the nearby conversations. “You ate our wedding cake and tried to sabotage Emily’s big day? This isn’t a joke!”

Linda tried to laugh it off. “Oh, Alex, it was just a bit of fun. No harm done, right?”

“No harm done?” Alex’s voice rose. “You ruined a thousand-dollar cake and caused Emily so much stress. This isn’t funny. It’s cruel!”

The guests watched in stunned silence, their eyes shifting between Alex and Linda. I felt a pang of sympathy for Alex, having to confront his own mother like this. But it needed to be done.

Linda looked around, realizing she had no supporters in the room. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology, but no one was convinced.

Taking out my phone, I quickly texted a waiter.

With a smile, I watched the waiter read my message and nod in my direction.

Minutes later, the caterers wheeled out a beautifully decorated cake, and I saw Linda and her friends eyeing it suspiciously.

The caterers placed it on a separate table, away from the main dessert.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced, getting everyone’s attention once more. “We have a special treat for a select few guests.”

The caterers began serving slices of the Styrofoam cake to Linda and her friends. Each slice had a small, elegant note attached. As Linda picked up her piece, she read the note out loud: “For those with truly tasteless appetites.”

Her face turned beet red, and the room fell silent for a moment before erupting in laughter.

Linda’s friends tried to hide their embarrassment, but it was too late.

Even Linda’s husband, William, burst out laughing.

He tried to stifle it, but he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, Linda, you had this coming,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Emily, that was brilliant,” one guest said, shaking my hand.

“Serves her right,” another added, nodding in approval.

William approached me with a serious expression, though I could see a hint of a smile. “Emily, I want you to know that Linda will be held accountable for her actions. This will not go unpunished.”

“Thank you,” I replied, grateful for his support. “I appreciate it.”

As the guests continued to cheer and celebrate, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Alex standing there, a proud but sad smile on his face.

“You handled that perfectly,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “It had to be done, but I’m sorry it came to this. I wish things were different. Mom shouldn’t have gone to such an extent.”

I hugged him back, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. “Thank you, Alex. For always supporting me.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, dancing, and joy. Despite everything, our wedding day had turned out better than I could have imagined, and I was glad that Linda’s antics couldn’t touch the happiness Alex and I shared.

What would you have done?

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