A man left his young daughter with his mother to start a new life with his wife. When he returns ten years later, he’s shocked to find both his mother and daughter gone, with no sign of where they went.
Doris Dakkar had been a single mother to her son, Nicholas, after her husband left when Nicholas was seven. Life had been tough, but Doris worked two jobs to make sure Nicholas had everything he needed.
At that time, Doris was only thirty. She never thought she’d be raising a child alone again at sixty, nor did she expect Nicholas would abandon his own daughter, just like his father did.
Nicholas had married a wonderful woman named Sandra, but sadly, she passed away when their daughter, Paige, was nine years old. Shortly after Sandra’s death, Nicholas started a relationship with a woman named Donna and married her within six months. Doris, his mother, believed that Nicholas was just lonely.
Doris noticed that Paige, who used to be a happy and playful child, became quiet and withdrawn. Doris thought it was because Paige was grieving her mother’s death. She still believed her son was a good man, but that changed soon.
Selfish people don’t care about others’ happiness.
The summer Paige turned ten, Nicholas asked Doris if she could look after Paige for three weeks while he and Donna went on a vacation to Alaska.
“Every couple needs time alone, Mom,” Nicholas said. “Paige has been difficult lately… She doesn’t like Donna.”
Doris was surprised but agreed. “Alright, Nicky. A break might help all of you. But Donna knew you had a daughter when she married you. A grown woman should be able to handle a ten-year-old who is still trying to cope with her mother’s death and her father’s quick remarriage.”
Nicholas turned red with anger. “I should’ve known you’d take Paige’s side!” he shouted. “Donna makes me happy, and that’s all that matters!”
“I thought someone had to be on Paige’s side, and I’m surprised it’s not her father,” Doris replied. “Making your daughter happy should make you happy, too!”
Nicholas stormed out, but when he returned a week later to drop off Paige, he seemed like his usual self. He kissed Paige goodbye and hugged Doris.
“I’ll be back on August 27, Mom,” he said, then drove off, waving happily.
But August 27 came and went, and Nicholas never returned. Doris tried calling him, only to discover his number had been disconnected. He hadn’t called his daughter since he left, but sometimes replied to her text messages.
Now, it seemed he had disappeared. Doris found out that the house Nicholas and Sandra owned had been sold. He was gone.
He had abandoned his daughter with his elderly mother, showing no concern for her.
Doris sat down with Paige and reassured her, “We’ll be okay, you and I. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I love you, and one day, your father will regret what he’s done.”
Ten years later, Nicholas returned to his mother’s house. He was shocked to see the house looked abandoned, with an overgrown garden and boarded-up windows.
He knocked on a neighbor’s door. The woman seemed surprised to see him and hesitated to give him Paige’s new address. She looked at his shabby clothes and rusty car.
“Paige is married now, and Doris lives with her. I wouldn’t expect a warm welcome after what you did,” she said coldly.
Nicholas didn’t respond and walked away, confident he could charm his mother.
When he arrived at Paige’s new address, he was stunned. It was a luxurious mansion. He rang the doorbell and told the maid, “I’m here to see Doris or Paige Dakkar.”
The maid corrected him, “You mean Mrs. Dakkar or Mrs. Henderson,” and led him to a grand sitting room.
A few minutes later, Paige walked in. She looked at him silently, showing no surprise. Nicholas guessed the neighbor had warned them he was coming.
“Paige, my baby,” Nicholas said, stepping forward to hug the beautiful young woman his daughter had become.
“What do you want, father?” she asked calmly, without anger.
“I wanted to see you and Grandma Doris. I’ve missed you both so much,” Nicholas said, forcing a smile.
Doris walked in then, looking calm and younger than her age. “Nicholas, why are you here?” she asked.
“I came to see my family,” Nicholas said, raising his voice. “I was hoping for a warm welcome!”
“You abandoned me, father,” Paige said coldly. “Did you really expect a warm welcome?”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Nicholas whined. “Donna said she’d leave me if I didn’t go with her.”
Doris smirked. “But Donna’s not here now. Did she leave when the money ran out?”
Nicholas glanced around the room enviously. “You seem to be doing well. I’m unemployed and struggling. Can’t you help me out?”
“I’m surprised you’d ask for help after abandoning us,” Paige said. “But for Grandma Doris’s sake, I’ll help.”
Paige went to a fancy desk, unlocked a drawer, and took out an envelope and a set of keys. “These are the keys to the old house, and there’s $5,000 in here. Don’t come back asking for more.”
Paige hugged Doris and walked out of the room. Moments later, the maid arrived and escorted Nicholas out before he could take anything valuable.
Nicholas sat in his car outside the mansion for a long time. “I did what I had to do,” he muttered. “Why can’t anyone understand how much I’ve suffered? There’s no gratitude in this world…”
My Son Told Me He Bought Me a Cottage in the Countryside – But When He Took Me There, I Went Pale
My son, Michael, surprised me with a cottage in the countryside, but when we got there, I realized it was all a trick. After a while, I discovered the real reason why he did this, and I still can’t forgive him. What would you do?
Hello! My name is Richard, and I’m 68 years old. I never thought I’d be asking strangers for advice, but here I am. I need some outside perspective on this.
For some background: I’ve been a single dad for most of my adult life. My wife, Emma, passed away from cancer when our son, Michael (currently 35 years old), was just ten years old.
It was a difficult time for both of us, but we managed to pull through together.
Since then, it’s been just the two of us against the world. I did my best to be both mother and father to him, working hard to give him every opportunity I could.
Growing up, Michael was a good kid. He had his moments of rebellion, sure, but overall, he was kind, hardworking, and seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.
He did well in school, went to college on a partial scholarship, and landed a good job in finance after graduation.
I’ve always been immensely proud of him, watching him grow into what I thought was a successful adult.
We remained close even after he moved out, talking on the phone regularly and having dinner together at least once a week.
That’s why what happened over a year ago came as such a shock.
It was a Tuesday evening when Michael came to my house, brimming with excitement. “Dad,” he said, “I’ve got amazing news! I bought you a cottage in the countryside!”
“A cottage? Michael, what are you talking about?“
“It’s perfect, Dad. It’s peaceful, serene, and just what you need. You’re going to love it!”
I was taken aback. Move to a cottage far from here? That seemed like too much. “Michael, you didn’t have to do that. I’m perfectly happy here.”
But he insisted! “No, Dad, you deserve it. The house you’re in now is TOO BIG FOR YOU ALONE. It’s time for a change. Trust me, this is going to be great for you.”
I have to admit, I was skeptical. The house I was living in had been our family home for over 30 years. It was where Michael grew up, where Emma and I had built our life together.
But my son seemed so excited, so sure that this was the right move. And I trusted him completely. After all, we’d always been honest with each other.
So, against my better judgment, I agreed to move and sell my house.
The next few days, I was packing and preparing to leave, while Michael handled most of the details. He assured me that everything was taken care of.
He was being so helpful that I pushed aside my lingering doubts.
Finally, the day came for us to drive to my new home. As we got in the car, Michael was chatting away about all the amenities this new place had.
But as we drove further and further from the city, I started feeling uneasy. The scenery became more and more desolate. It wasn’t woodsy or hillside.
Our familiar neighbor and the bustling streets of the city were gone and all that was left were empty, ugly fields, and even an abandoned farm.
The cottages nearby, which Michael knew I had admired and considered buying when his mother was alive, were cozy, homey places, surrounded by nature. This was the opposite.
“Michael,” I wondered, “are you sure we’re going the right way? This doesn’t look like cottage country to me.”
He assured me we were on the right track, but I noticed he wouldn’t quite meet my eyes.
After about another hour of driving, we turned onto a long, winding driveway. At the end of it stood a large, boring building.
My heart sank as I read the sign: “Sunset Haven.”
This wasn’t a cottage. It was a nursing home.
I turned to Michael, trying to quell my emotions. “What is this? What’s going on?”
“Dad,” he said, but couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I said it was a cottage, but… this is better for you. You’ll be taken care of here.”
“Taken care of? I don’t need to be taken care of! I’m perfectly capable of living on my own. Why would you lie to me?“
“Dad, please.” Michael finally turned to me, and his eyes were pleading. “You’ve been forgetting things lately. I’m worried about you living alone. This place has great facilities, and there will always be someone around if you need help.”
“Forgetting things? Everyone forgets things sometimes!” I yelled, and angry tears fell from my eyes. “This isn’t right, Michael. Take me home right now.”
Michael shook his head and dropped the real bombshell of the day. “I can’t do that, Dad. I’ve… I’ve already sold the house.”
I felt like the ground had disappeared from under me. I knew I had agreed to sell, but I had all the time in the world. I wanted to meet the new owners, pick a nice family, and hell, tell them exactly how to care for the old Elm tree in the yard.
How could he have sold it without my knowledge or consent?
I demanded answers, but Michael was evasive. He mentioned something about having power of attorney and doing what was best for me.
I shut down after that, and the next few hours were a blur.
Somehow, I ended up checked into Sunset Haven and was led to a small room with a narrow bed and a window overlooking a parking lot.
The walls were a sickly shade of beige, and the air smelled of disinfectant and old people.
My old home retained the scent of my wife’s cinnamon coffee cake, and I never changed her decor choices. My only upgrades were new appliances when needed, and Michael had given me an Alexa.
But now, this sad, clinical place was my new home.
I couldn’t do anything about it, either. I thought about Michael’s words while I spent the next few days in shock and anger. Was I so far gone that I forgot everything?
Was this the right thing? Had I caused Michael harm? Had I been diagnosed with dementia or something?
I couldn’t imagine any of that, but Michael’s parting look of guilt and concern left me dubious.
The staff at Sunset Haven were kind enough, and they tried to engage me in activities to make me feel welcome. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
It was during an afternoon of more stewing in my feelings that I overheard a conversation that made everything even worse.
I was sitting in the common room, pretending to read a magazine, when I heard two nurses talking in hushed tones nearby.
“Poor Mr. Johnson,” one of them said. “Did you hear about his son?”
“No, what happened?”
“Apparently, he had some pretty big gambling debts. That’s why he sold his dad’s house and put him in here.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Gambling debts? Was that the real reason behind all of this? Had my son sold me out, quite literally, to cover his own mistakes?
I was even more devastated.
The son I’d raised, the boy I thought I knew better than anyone, had discarded me for selfish reasons.
I thought back to all the times I’d helped him out of tight spots, all the sacrifices I’d made to give him a good life.
Luckily, fate intervened in the form of an old friend. Jack, a lawyer I’d known for years, came to Sunset Haven to visit his sister and was shocked to find me there.
When I told him what happened, he was outraged. He offered to look into the legality of what Michael had done.
It turned out that the sale of my house had been rushed, with several legal corners cut in the process. With Jack’s help, I was able to contest the sale.
After a long battle that ended with Michael having to return the money he took from the buyers and pay all the legal fees, I finally got my home back and moved out of Sunset Haven.
Now, here’s where I need advice.
My son has been trying to apologize. He showed up at my house last week, and I hardly recognized him. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept or eaten properly in weeks.
When I let him in, he broke down.
He told me how he’d started gambling to cope with stress at work, how things had spiraled out of control, and how he’d convinced himself that selling my house and putting me in a home was the best solution for everyone.
He swore he’d been getting help for his addiction and was committed to making things right.
“I was wrong, Dad,” he sobbed. “So wrong. Can you ever forgive me?“
Part of me wants to let bygones be bygones. He’s my son, and we only have each other in this world. But another part of me is still so angry and hurt.
How can I trust him again after what he did? He lied to me, manipulated me, and stole my home to cover up his own mistakes.
Even if he’s truly sorry now, how do I know he won’t do something like this again in the future?
What would you do in my place?
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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