Christmas Eve always carried a weight I could never shake. As I slid into the back seat of the taxi, the world around me blurred into sleep, and I let it. When I awoke, it wasn’t to the sight of home, but to a cold, abandoned room.
The sterile white lights of the hospital hallway buzzed above me, a constant reminder of my exhaustion from back-to-back night shifts. Christmas Eve in the ER was no different from any other day—chaotic, loud, and unforgiving.
Tired female nurse | Source: Midjourney
But tonight, there was a promise of something waiting at home: Jeremy, my boyfriend of four years, a man who could light up the darkest room with his smile.
“Hey, you done?” He had called just before my shift ended, excitement brimming in his voice. “I got the tree lit, cider on the stove, and even put on that ridiculous sweater you hate. You’re gonna love it.”
I forced a laugh, the kind that came naturally when he talked about Christmas. Jeremy adored the holiday. It was in his DNA, something passed down through generations of festive gatherings with his family.
Family celebrating Christmas | Source: Midjourney
I wanted to love it too. But Christmas to me was an empty chair at a table I never got to sit at. It was just a reminder of the hollow space where my parents should have been. Growing up in an orphanage, I’d learned only bits and pieces about my parents: my mother had died when I was young, and I didn’t know much about my dad.
So for me, Christmas wasn’t a celebration; it was an ache, a reminder of everything I’d lost before I could even understand what it meant.
I shook off the thought and stepped outside, shivering as the winter air hit me. Just then, a yellow cab pulled up to the curb. The driver leaned over, gave a small nod, and smiled as if he knew me. “Megan?”
Nurse standing next to a yellow taxi | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, that’s me.” I opened the back door and slid in, the leather seats cool beneath me. The exhaustion that had settled in my bones for the past 48 hours took over, and before I knew it, I was asleep.
It was the sudden silence that woke me. I blinked, expecting to see the familiar blur of streetlights through rain-slicked windows.
Instead, darkness surrounded me, oppressive and still. My breath quickened, and I realized the driver was gone. The taxi, too, was eerily still, parked in what looked like an abandoned garage.
Worried woman inside a taxi | Source: Midjourney
“Hello?” My voice came out weak, swallowed by the shadows.
I reached for my phone, but my fingers met an empty pocket. Panic shot up my spine as I heard it—a faint creak that cut through the silence. A thin line of light stretched across the floor as the door slowly opened, and in its glow, I saw a silhouette.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I strained to make sense of where I was. The cab, once a safe, familiar space, now felt like a cage.
Worried woman inside a taxi | Source: Midjourney
“Hello?” I called again, louder this time, but the silence pressed back, heavier than before. The beam of light grew, inch by inch until it fell on the face of a stranger.
“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice cracking.
The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, the door creaking wider behind him. As he moved into the dim light, I could see the sharp angles of his face. His coat was thick and dark, the kind worn to keep out a bitter chill.
Man in an abandoned garage | Source: Midjourney
“Megan Price, right?” His voice was low, and practiced, like he knew he needed to keep it steady to control the situation.
“Why do you know my name?” I shifted in the back seat, my fingers brushing the door handle.
He exhaled, almost impatiently, and glanced at the cab, then back at me. “You’re not in any danger. I need you to come with me. There’s something you need to know.”
I laughed sarcastically. “Is that what people say when they’re about to kidnap someone? Because it’s not very reassuring.”
Scared young woman | Source: Midjourney
“To be honest,” he said, voice thick with something that made my chest constrict, “I was against the fact that we scared you so much. Your boyfriend made it all up.” His smile was a shaky mask, an attempt to soften the bombshell he was about to drop.
My mind stumbled over the words, trying to piece together the implications. Jeremy? My confusion surged into anger, hot and immediate. “What do you mean, my boyfriend made it up? Who are you?” My voice cracked as the last word tumbled out, raw and desperate.
Scared young woman talking to a stranger | Source: Midjourney
The man’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he took a step closer. “I know this is… overwhelming,” he said, his voice wavering, “but I had no choice. We had no choice.”
A painful silence hung between us. My breath came in short, every exhale shaking with disbelief. The man’s expression crumbled, and he looked down as if ashamed. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.
Close-up shot of a 50 year old garage | Source: Midjourney
“But I am… your father, daughter.” His eyes met mine, and this time, a tear escaped, tracing a line down the deep creases of his face. He swallowed hard and covered his mouth as if it could stop the wave of emotion threatening to break.
“No,” I breathed, the word almost inaudible. My legs weakened as I tried to piece everything together.
Scared woman talking to a stranger | Source: Midjourney
The man—my father—stood before me, shoulders slumped under the weight of emotion, but I stayed frozen in place. The word father felt sharp and unfamiliar like I’d stumbled across a shard of glass in my path.
For years, I’d pictured my parents in distant, shadowy forms, and now here was a real, flesh-and-blood person claiming he was part of me. My body ached to trust him, to accept this lost piece, but my mind held me back.
Jeremy must’ve sensed my hesitation. He stepped up, holding a crumpled envelope. “Megan, I know it’s hard to believe. But here—this is the proof. It’s a DNA test. I wanted to be sure before… well, before I put you through this.”
Young man smiling holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney
I looked down at the envelope, my heart pounding. “How… how did you even do this? How did you find him?”
Jeremy let out a sigh, glancing at the man and then back to me. “I know you never thought about searching, but… I did. Two years ago, I decided to look into your family, quietly, just in case it would mean something to you one day.”
He pulled me closer, his voice tender but firm. “I knew how much not having your family haunted you, especially at Christmas. So I started hiring people—private detectives, researchers. I went down every lead until we finally found a trail.”
Couple having a deep conversation | Source: Midjourney
The man—my supposed father—shifted his weight, rubbing his eyes as though he couldn’t quite believe it either.
“It wasn’t easy,” Jeremy continued, his voice lowering. “I found out that… well, after your mother got pregnant, she never told him. He had no idea you existed.”
I felt the sting of that, the realization that my mother—a woman I’d only known through childhood fantasies—had chosen to leave me at an orphanage and walk away. She’d vanished into the background of my life without ever telling this man… my father… what she’d done.
Woman in deep thoughts | Source: Midjourney
“She died several years ago,” Jeremy went on gently. “But I tracked down her sister. She lives in Eastern Europe, and after some long talks, she told me there was one person who could be your father. So, I reached out.”
I looked back at the man, a wave of guarded resentment and longing roiling inside me. “And he just… accepted it? Just like that?”
Jeremy nodded slowly, searching my face. “He was shocked, of course. It was only once I told him about you that he agreed to come, but I wanted to be certain. I wanted proof. So, one night I… I took a few strands of hair from your brush.”
Couple having a deep conversation | Source: Midjourney
My stomach twisted at the thought of it, the quiet lengths Jeremy had gone to, the hours, the money, all without me knowing. The man across from me—my father—clenched his jaw, his own hand trembling slightly. His eyes were locked on mine, an expression of cautious hope and deep pain in their depths.
“I did’n’t know about you, Megan,” he said, his voice thick, fighting back tears. “I didn’t know you existed until recently, and I… I didn’t believe it at first. But seeing you…” His voice faltered, and he glanced away, struggling to regain his composure.
Father and daughter talking | Source: Midjourney
The weight of his words settled heavily over me, and I took a shaky breath, my heart both heavy and fractured. “You were never there,” I murmured, a trace of bitterness slipping out. “I grew up without you. Without any of you.”
He took a step closer, then stopped, respecting the distance I maintained between us. “I don’t know if I can ever make up for that, Megan,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t even know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me. But if you let me… I’d like to be here now.”
Father and daughter talking | Source: Midjourney
Silence hung between us, thick with the years lost and the strange, uncertain possibility of the years ahead. The truth, the aching reality of what I’d been told, lay there, its edges sharp and unfamiliar. I didn’t know if I could open myself to him, didn’t know if I even wanted to.
But Jeremy’s hand tightened around mine, grounding me, reminding me that maybe… just maybe… I didn’t have to go through it all alone.
Man talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
Taking a tentative step forward, I met the man’s gaze, that mix of hope and regret in his eyes. My voice shook as I finally spoke, letting my guard down just enough to let him hear a crack in the wall I’d built.
“I don’t know if I can call you Dad yet,” I whispered. “But… I think I’d like to know you.”
His face softened, and for a moment, the years that separated us fell away. A tear slipped down his cheek as he managed a small, hopeful smile.
Father and daughter bonding | Source: Midjourney
“That’s all I could ask for, Megan. Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling with gratitude.
And as the lights from the upstairs Christmas tree spilled down the stairs, I allowed myself to take a step toward something I’d never thought I’d have—a father, and maybe, just maybe, a new family.
Young couple celebrating Christmas | Source: Midjourney
Loved this story? Don’t miss another unforgettable one: On Christmas night, I realized my 9-year-old daughter and my car keys were missing.
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.
My Colleague Suggested We Buy a Joint $2,000 Gift for Our Boss and Now Refuses to Pay Her Share
Rachel reluctantly agrees to buy a $2,000 watch for their boss after her colleague Emily promises to split the cost. But when Emily refuses to pay her share, Rachel is left struggling with the unexpected financial burden. Determined to teach Emily a lesson, Rachel devises a clever plan to expose her deceit. But will she succeed in bringing Emily’s dishonesty to light?
“That’s a lot of money, Emily,” I sighed, stirring my coffee slowly.
A person stirring coffee | Source: Pexels
“Oh, come on, Rachel,” she said, sitting across from me. “Think about it! A $1,600 watch for Mr. Johnson’s birthday would show our dedication. Plus, I’m sure he’ll love the customized engraving. Oh, and with that, the total would be $2,000.”
I took a sip of my coffee, trying to buy some time. “It’s just… that’s a huge expense. Are you sure about this?” I asked.
A woman sipping coffee | Source: Pexels
“Absolutely!” she replied, nodding eagerly. “Trust me, Rachel. It will be perfect. And don’t worry about the cost. We’ll split it, and I promise to pay my half as soon as possible.”
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I liked Emily, despite her reputation for sucking up to management. She’s always the one staying late, bringing coffee, and organizing events. But this whole watch idea seemed too much, even for her.
A man wearing a watch | Source: Unsplash
“Emily, I don’t know. I have bills to pay, and $2,000 is a lot for me right now,” I said, hoping she’d understand.
“Rachel, this is an investment in our future here,” she insisted, trying to convince me. “Imagine the impression we’ll make! Mr. Johnson will remember this forever, and it could really boost our standing in the company.”
A smiling woman chatting with her colleague | Source: Pexels
I sighed again. Emily always had a way of making things sound so simple and beneficial.
“Alright,” I said reluctantly, finally giving in. “Let’s get the watch. But please don’t forget what you’ve promised.”
“Of course, Rachel,” she said. “He’ll love the gift!”
A man in a suit with his arms folded | Source: Pexels
Soon, Mr. Johnson’s birthday arrived.
Emily had everything meticulously planned.
She walked into his office first, and I followed, holding my breath.
A man holding a pen and pointing at a monitor | Source: Pexels
“Mr. Johnson!” she exclaimed, standing beside his desk. “We have a special surprise for you!”
Mr. Johnson looked up from his paperwork, clearly curious.
Emily handed him the elegantly wrapped box, her eyes shining with pride. “This was our idea,” she said, “but I really pushed for it because I knew it was perfect for you.”
A person holding a gift in their hands | Source: Unsplash
I stood there, smiling awkwardly. Emily opened the box to reveal the watch, and Mr. Johnson’s eyes widened in surprise.
“This is incredible. You really didn’t need to!” he said, examining the watch. “Thank you so much. This is really thoughtful.”
A watch on a man’s wrist | Source: Unsplash
Emily beamed, soaking in his praise. I forced a smile, feeling a pang of regret. I had hoped this gift would be a gesture of teamwork, but it quickly became Emily’s solo performance.
She kept talking about how she had put extra effort into getting the gift for him, which made me realize I had spent a thousand dollars for nothing more than a front-row seat to Emily’s self-promotion.
A young woman talking to an older man | Source: Midjourney
“This is wonderful, Emily. Thank you again,” Mr. Johnson said.
Emily turned to me with a triumphant grin. “See, Rachel? I told you he’d love it.”
I managed a weak smile. “Yeah, he really does,” I said.
A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney
A week passed, but I didn’t hear anything from Emily about her share.
One day, I found her in the break room, chatting away with another colleague. I waited until she was alone before approaching her.
“Hey, Emily,” I started calmly. “I… I just wanted to remind you about your share of the cost of Mr. Johnson’s watch. I have some expenses, and I really need that money right now.”
Two women chatting at workplace | Source: Freepik
Emily looked up at me with a condescending smile. “Oh, sweetie, I thought you were just helping out. I never intended to pay. Besides, you earn more than I do, don’t you? Consider it a charitable act.”
“WHAT?” I stared at her, stunned. “What do you mean? You… weren’t you supposed to pay your share?”
A smiling woman talking to her co-worker | Source: Freepik
“Look, life isn’t fair, Rachel,” she shrugged. “You wanted to make a good impression, and we did. Didn’t you see how happy Mr. Johnson was? Isn’t that worth it?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Her selfishness was astounding. “That’s not the point, Emily,” I said, my voice rising. “You promised to pay your half!”
A stern-looking woman | Source: Pexels
She laughed. “Oh, Rachel, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Let it go,” she said and walked away.
I stared at her, anger and frustration bubbling up inside me. Clearly, she had no intention of paying and didn’t care about the impact on me.
So I made up my mind. It was time for some payback.
A confident woman | Source: Pexels
Two days later, I looked into Emily’s schedule and discovered she had a big presentation for the upcoming quarterly meeting. This was crucial for her, and I saw an opportunity.
I began subtly mentioning to a few trusted colleagues that Emily might need ‘help’ with her presentation.
A woman giving a presentation | Source: Pexels
Word spread quickly, and soon everyone offered her ‘suggestions’ and ‘feedback.’ The result? The conflicting advice overwhelmed her, and I could see her becoming more stressed. She did manage to give the presentation, but it was a huge mess.
I wasn’t done yet, though.
A sad-looking young woman | Source: Midjourney
One day, while having lunch in the break room, I overheard Emily bragging about a meeting with a potential big client. She sat at the table, surrounded by a few colleagues, her voice full of confidence.
“This client is huge,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “If I close this deal, I’m sure to get a promotion. Mr. Johnson will be so impressed.”
Co-workers around a table | Source: Pexels
I listened quietly, my mind already plotting. After lunch, I returned to my desk and found the client’s contact information.
I crafted an anonymous email, attaching screenshots of Emily’s rude social media comments.
A person using their laptop | Source: Unsplash
“I felt it was important to inform you about some unethical behavior by Ms. Richards who is scheduled to meet with you,” I wrote in the mail to the client. “Please see the attached screenshots of her social media posts, which include rude and unprofessional comments.
Sincerely,
A Concerned Individual.”
A Gmail screen | Source: Unsplash
A few days later, Emily’s face was pale as she entered the office.
“The client canceled the meeting,” she told a colleague. “They said it was due to ‘unforeseen circumstances.’ I don’t know what went wrong!”
A stressed woman | Source: Pexels
“I’m sorry to hear that, Emily,” the colleague replied. “That must be tough.”
Emily sighed and walked away, clearly distressed. Only I knew how hard it was to contain my laugh. But even after going through so much, Emily wouldn’t mend her ways.
A laughing woman at workplace | Source: Unsplash
She started spreading rumors that she had single-handedly bought the watch for Mr. Johnson. Had she guessed I was behind her canceled meeting and failed presentation? I didn’t know. But I wouldn’t let her succeed.
So, I printed out our email exchange where she promised to pay her half and placed copies on the desks of key people in our department, including HR. The next day, whispers filled the office as people read the emails.
A woman using a printer | Source: Pexels
“Can you believe this?” one colleague said, showing the email to another. “Emily promised to pay her half for the watch.”
“Unbelievable,” the other replied. “She’s been taking all the credit.”
Emily’s popularity plummeted, and she looked more stressed than ever. I decided to take it one step further.
A stressed woman at work | Source: Pexels
Creating a fake online persona as a headhunter from a prestigious company, I sent Emily a message.
“To: [email protected]
Subject: Exciting Job Opportunity
Dear Ms. Richards,” I typed.
A person typing on their laptop | Source: Unsplash
“We have been following your impressive work and would love to discuss a potential job opportunity with you at our prestigious firm. We believe you would be a perfect fit for our team. Please let us know if you are available for an interview this Thursday at 10 AM.
Best regards,
Linda J.
Executive Recruiter, El.T.Search.”
An excited female employee | Source: Midjourney
Emily’s eyes lit up as she read the email. She ran over to the desk beside me, her excitement barely contained.
“You won’t believe this! I just got an email from a top headhunter. They want to interview me for a high-level position!”
“That’s amazing, Emily!” Stacey, my co-worker, said. “You should definitely go for it.”
A smiling woman chatting with her co-worker | Source: Freepik
Emily called in sick on the day of the fake interview, completely convinced it was real. She dressed in her best business attire and left the house early to be there on time.
The next day, she returned to the office and I overheard her talking to Stacey. “There was no interview,” she said sadly. “I showed up, and no one knew who I was.”
A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
“That’s so strange, Emily. Maybe it was some sort of mistake?”
Emily nodded slowly, still in shock. “Maybe…”
Hardly had she finished talking when Mr. Johnson approached her.
“Emily, we need to talk. Please come into my office,” he said sternly.
A serious-looking man in a suit | Source: Pexels
Emily’s confidence visibly shook. She followed him, her face pale. I stayed at my desk, straining to hear the conversation from behind my computer.
“Emily, I’ve received some concerning information,” Mr. Johnson began, his tone firm. “Can you explain why our client canceled their meeting with you?”
An older man in professional attire | Source: Midjourney
“I-I don’t know, sir. They said it was due to unforeseen circumstances.”
Mr. Johnson raised an eyebrow. “Unforeseen circumstances? Or could it be because they received an email with screenshots of your unprofessional social media comments?”
A female employee talking to her boss | Source: Midjourney
Emily gasped. “What? No, I… I didn’t think… I mean, those were private posts!” she gasped, staring at a tablet screen. Maybe Mr. Johnson was showing her the mail.
“They may have been, but they reflect poorly on you and this company,” Mr. Johnson said sharply. “And there’s more. I’ve been hearing rumors that you claimed to have bought the watch for me single-handedly. Is that true?”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Emily’s face turned pale. Her silence said it was true.
“Emily, this behavior is unacceptable. You’ve been manipulating situations and lying to your colleagues. This ends now. You are being demoted, effective immediately. One more misstep and you will be terminated!” Mr. Johnson declared.
A box labelled “FIRED” | Source: Pexels
Emily emerged from the office, looking defeated. That same day, in a team meeting, Mr. Johnson took off the expensive watch and held it up for everyone to see.
“This gift was meant to symbolize teamwork and appreciation,” he began, “but given the circumstances, I think it’s only fair to return it.”
A happy boss and employee | Source: Midjourney
He then walked over to me and handed me the watch. “I believe this was more of your contribution. Please, you keep it,” he said.
Emily turned beet red as everyone watched. Her scheme had backfired spectacularly, and my efforts to expose her had paid off.
And that was how I got my ultimate petty revenge on a two-faced colleague.
A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash
What would you have done?
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