Matthew pediu o divórcio de Anne quando ela não conseguiu lhe dar um filho, mas ele ainda morava na casa deles. Um dia, ela conheceu Harry, um velho amigo da escola, e eventualmente percebeu o quanto ela era melhor sem Matthew. Anos depois, Anne acidentalmente encontrou seu ex-marido e não conseguiu reconhecê-lo.
“Meu Deus! Harry! É tão bom ver você!” Anne exclamou quando acidentalmente tropeçou em sua antiga amiga de escola na rua. Ela havia deixado suas cinco meninas com sua mãe, uma rara folga para ela, e queria tomar um café nas ruas de Seattle.
“Anne, é adorável ver você também! Ei, você gostaria de tomar um café e colocar o papo em dia?” Harry respondeu, e ela assentiu imediatamente. Eles foram até o café e conversaram até que Harry perguntou sobre a família dela.
Apenas para fins ilustrativos | Fonte: Pexels
“Ah… esse é realmente um assunto difícil”, ela começou.
“Bem, criar cinco filhos não é fácil para ninguém”, comentou Harry, conhecendo um pouco dela pelas redes sociais e coisas do tipo.
“Matthew? O que você está fazendo aqui?” ela perguntou, olhando para o uniforme dele e para a bandeja de pretzels.
“Sim, claro. Isso é difícil. Mas é mais do que isso”, Anne continuou. “Matthew mudou depois do nascimento dos nossos gêmeos. Eles têm 9 anos e mal falam com o pai. Acho que eles têm medo dele.”
“Não entendo”, disse Harry.
“Matthew queria um menino, e nós esperávamos, mas tivemos duas lindas meninas em vez disso. É por isso que engravidamos várias vezes, mas continuamos tendo meninas. Depois que nossa quinta filha nasceu, Matthew se tornou outro homem. Ele pediu o divórcio, e eu não sei o que vou fazer”, Anne explicou sobre seu marido, sua mão enxugando o suor que se formava em sua testa.
“Uau. Isso é duro. Mas pense nisso, você estará melhor sem ele, certo? Quero dizer, se ele não tem falado com suas filhas mais velhas, então ele não pode ter sido o melhor pai para o resto. Você já as criou sozinha”, Harry encorajou. “E agora que estou em Seattle permanentemente, eu poderia ajudar. Você poderia se mudar para morar comigo.”
Apenas para fins ilustrativos | Fonte: Pexels
O queixo de Anne caiu. Ela não esperava tal oferta de Harry, especialmente porque eles tinham acabado de se encontrar novamente depois de muitos anos. Mas ela sabia na escola que ele sempre teve uma grande queda por ela. Ainda assim, aquela oferta era muito generosa e gentil. Ela não podia aceitar. Ela mudou de assunto, e eles conversaram sobre sua vida bem-sucedida.
Enquanto isso, as coisas na casa dela pioraram ainda mais nas semanas seguintes. Eles estavam se divorciando, mas Matthew ainda morava com ela, agindo como se fosse solteiro, festejando, fazendo barulho em horas estranhas, acordando as meninas e sendo uma ameaça para elas.
Anne falava com Harry o tempo todo, e sua oferta ainda estava de pé. Mas quando Matthew decidiu levar uma garota para a casa conjugal, Anne estava farta. Ela ligou para Harry, fez as malas e saiu de casa com todas as garotas.
O divórcio deles ficou mais complicado quando ela levou Matthew ao tribunal para ter sua casa grande de volta. Apesar de ela morar na casa de Harry, seu futuro ex-marido não merecia ficar com sua casa grande. O juiz concedeu todos os seus pedidos com base no estilo de vida horrível de Matthew e deu a ela a custódia total sem questionar.
Eventualmente, ela e Harry se apaixonaram, e ele comprou uma casa ainda maior para a família. Quando ela e as meninas se mudaram para a casa dele, ela colocou a casa para alugar e parou de pensar em Matthew por muitos anos.
***
Um ano depois de se casar com Harry, Anne teve seu filho, Alan, que era o menino mais lindo do mundo, e ele tinha cinco irmãs mais velhas adorando-o a todo momento. Anne não poderia estar mais feliz.
Apenas para fins ilustrativos | Fonte: Pexels
Mais tempo passou, e um dia, ela pegou Alan na pré-escola e decidiu passar no shopping para comprar sapatos novos para ele. As meninas estavam ocupadas com suas atividades extracurriculares, então eram apenas mãe e filho.
Anne nunca imaginou que encontraria Matthew ali. Ele estava trabalhando na loja de pretzels, encarregado de distribuir amostras grátis no shopping, e Alan correu até ele pedindo algumas.
“Alan, não fuja de mim desse jeito”, ela disse a ele antes de ver de relance os olhos surpresos de Matthew.
“Ana?”
“Matthew? O que você está fazendo aqui?” ela perguntou, olhando para o uniforme dele e para a bandeja de pretzels. Não fazia sentido. Matthew trabalhava em um escritório como executivo. Ele ganhava uma quantia decente de dinheiro. Ele era obrigado a pagar toneladas de pensão alimentícia, mas ele nunca pagava, e Anne não se importava. Ela tinha mais do que o suficiente para suas meninas. Mas ele não seria capaz de pagar o que era exigido com um emprego de salário mínimo no shopping.
“Estou trabalhando aqui”, ele disse e olhou para o garoto segurando-a com uma mão e mastigando um pretzel com a outra. “Este é seu filho?”
Apenas para fins ilustrativos | Fonte: Pexels
“Sim, este é Alan”, respondeu Anne, sentindo um orgulho intenso por ter um filho que não era dele. “Ele é filho de Harry.”
“Oh, prazer em conhecê-lo, Alan”, disse Matthew, olhando para baixo e dando ao garoto um olhar estranho. Claro, não foi culpa de Anne ter dado à luz meninas. O esperma determina o sexo, e todo mundo sabe disso. Mas Matthew decidiu culpá-la por anos e desistiu do casamento porque queria um menino, como se o gênero fosse importante.
Felizmente, as meninas agora tinham uma figura paterna de verdade, graças a Harry, que as amou profundamente desde o primeiro momento em que se conheceram. Elas não precisavam dele, e Anne nunca precisou vê-lo.
“Escute, Anne. Eu não queria perguntar isso agora. Eu queria te levar para tomar um café ou algo assim. Mas estou desesperado. Perdi tudo devido ao meu estilo de vida, e estava pensando se poderíamos vender nossa antiga casa”, Matthew perguntou, com a cabeça baixa de vergonha.
“Oh… bem, atualmente está sendo alugado. Mas vou pensar sobre isso”, disse Anne. “Temos que ir agora. Vou te ligar sobre a casa.”
Apenas para fins ilustrativos | Fonte: Pexels
Ela agarrou a mão de Alan com força e se afastou do homem que não sabia o que tinha jogado fora. Mas ela seria a pessoa maior. Ela vendeu a casa e deu a ele metade do valor, embora legalmente ela pudesse ficar com tudo. Mas algo em seu intestino lhe disse para fazer a coisa certa.
Por fim, Matthew pediu para ver as meninas, mas nenhuma delas queria isso. As gêmeas eram adolescentes que passaram a odiá-lo, e o resto seguiu os passos das irmãs mais velhas. Matthew parou de perguntar sobre elas e parou de ligar depois de um tempo. Elas nunca mais o viram. Ele não era da família.
O que podemos aprender com essa história?
- Família é mais do que apenas DNA. Matthew não queria ser pai de seus filhos, e Harry se levantou pelas meninas.
- Você pode se arrepender de suas ações. Matthew perdeu tudo, incluindo seu emprego bem pago, e estava claro que ele se arrependeu do que fez, mas não conseguiu voltar atrás.
Compartilhe esta história com seus amigos. Pode alegrar o dia deles e inspirá-los.
Se você gostou desta história, talvez goste desta sobre uma mulher que adotou uma criança e descobriu algo chocante.
Este relato é inspirado na história do nosso leitor e escrito por um escritor profissional. Qualquer semelhança com nomes ou locais reais é mera coincidência. Todas as imagens são apenas para fins ilustrativos.
A Family Forgot Their Wealthy Grandpa at a Gas Station on His Birthday — The Next Day, His Lawyer Called Them
On his 73rd birthday, Lennox treated his family to a lavish beach trip, only to be ignored, dismissed, and forgotten — literally! They left him at a gas station on the drive home. But the family learned the cost of their callous behavior when Lennox’s lawyer called them the next day.
I turned 73 last Tuesday. Most men my age would be proud. I’d transformed my grandfather’s humble construction company into a sprawling empire that stretched across three states.
A man seated alone at a dining table | Source: Midjourney
But what good was any of it when I sat alone at my mahogany dining table, staring at a cake with no one to share it?
I had called my son Gregory, my daughter Caroline, their spouses, and all five of my grandchildren to invite them to celebrate my birthday.
All of them had answered with excuses; they were too busy to spend one evening with me.
A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
I sat in my study later that night, nursing a glass of scotch, when an idea struck me.
Money. It had always been the one thing that got their attention. The one thing that made their schedules “magically open up,” as my late wife Helen used to say.
So I rented the most luxurious tour bus available and planned a weeklong trip to the coast. All expenses paid.
Seating inside a luxury tour bus | Source: Pexels
Then I sent out new invites to my family, asking them to join me for the “real birthday celebration.”
The responses were predictably enthusiastic, now that they were getting more than a slice of cake and a few hours with an old man out of it.
When the day arrived, all 15 of them showed up with piles of luggage and wide smiles.
People carrying bags | Source: Pexels
My great-granddaughter Zoe squealed when she saw the tour bus and instantly started taking selfies in front of it.
I watched them board, chattering and laughing. My family… my legacy. I smiled to myself as I climbed aboard last. Maybe this was how we’d finally connect.
The countryside rolled by in waves of gold and green while I sat in the back, watching them all.
A road cutting through the country | Source: Pexels
Gregory played cards with his boys. Caroline sipped wine with her daughter-in-law. The youngest kids bounced between seats, high on sugar and excitement.
No one sat with me. Not at any point during the many hours it took to reach our destination.
The coast was beautiful, I’ll give it that. Blue waves crashing against rocky shores, and seagulls wheeling overhead.
A road on the coast | Source: Pexels
I paid for a boat tour on our first day, but when I joined my family in the hotel lobby, Gregory frowned at me.
“Don’t you think you’re a little old to be going on a boat trip, Dad? Think about your health. What if you had another heart attack?”
“I—”
“Greg’s right, Dad.” Caroline cut me off. “It’s best if you stay here.”
A woman smiling at someone | Source: Pexels
And that was the pattern for the entire week.
I’d organized spa treatments, fishing excursions, surfing lessons, you name it. But I didn’t get to enjoy any of it. Or spend any time with my family.
Oh, they were careful to wrap their excuses in concern for my health, but Zoe’s obsession with social media betrayed them all.
A young teen girl staring at her cell phone | Source: Pexels
I was on my way to the beach (by myself) when I spotted Zoe in the garden just outside the hotel entrance, phone held out in front of her.
I started walking toward her but froze when I got close enough to overhear what she was saying.
“… enjoying the beach with my fam! We were even kind enough to bring my great-grandpa along, although my mom and grandma say he can’t do much because of his health issues. At least he can chill by the pool!”
A young teen girl using her cell phone | Source: Pexels
Zoe is only 12 and might be excused for spouting nonsense, but it was the narrative beneath her words that broke me; the things her mother and Caroline had told her.
I saw the truth now. I’d thought I was investing in a chance to bring my family together when I paid for this trip, but they just saw me as useless baggage they were forced to drag along.
I went down to the beach and stayed there, watching the families who actually cared about each other building sandcastles and laughing together until the stars came out.
Starry sky over a beach | Source: Pexels
The week passed quickly.
Too quickly for them, apparently. The complaints started before we even loaded the bus for the return trip.
“God, this drive is going to be brutal,” Caroline muttered, sunglasses perched on her head.
A woman staring at something | Source: Pexels
“I don’t know why Grandpa didn’t just rent a private jet,” her eldest son said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Loud enough for me to hear.
Two hours into the journey home, I felt a tightness in my chest.
A distressed man | Source: Midjourney
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.
It wasn’t a heart attack — I’d had one of those before and knew the difference. This was just age and stress and heartache making themselves known.
“Can we pull over?” I asked, my voice weaker than I intended. “I need a minute.”
A man with his hands pressed together | Source: Pexels
Gregory looked up from his laptop, irritated. “We just stopped an hour ago.”
“You can’t wait 30 more minutes?” Caroline snapped. “There’s a rest area up ahead.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach. “I just need a moment to breathe.”
Close up of a man’s face | Source: Pexels
My son-in-law, James, sighed dramatically and signaled the driver.
The bus pulled into a grimy gas station, all buzzing florescent lights and faded advertisements.
“Make it quick, Dad,” Gregory said, not looking up from his screen.
A man typing on a laptop | Source: Pexels
Gone was the concern for my health that they’d pulled out like red cards at a soccer match every time I tried to join in on the holiday excursions.
I shuffled inside the gas station restroom and splashed water on my face. The man who looked back at me in the mirror seemed suddenly smaller than I remembered.
When I walked back outside, blinking in the harsh sunlight, the parking lot was empty. The bus was gone.
A gas station | Source: Pexels
I stood there, my blazer suddenly insufficient against the wind that picked up. No phone. No wallet. Nothing but the clothes on my back and the watch on my wrist.
“You okay, sir?” A young voice broke through my shock.
A girl stood in the gas station doorway, maybe 19, her name tag reading “Marlee.”
“I think I’ve been… forgotten,” I said.
A startled-looking man | Source: Midjourney
She frowned, looking around the empty lot. “Someone just left you here?”
“My family,” I said, and the words felt like glass in my throat.
“That’s messed up,” she said simply. Then she disappeared inside, returning moments later with a foil-wrapped package. “Microwave burrito. It’s not much, but you look like you could use something.”
A burrito | Source: Pexels
I took it, surprised by the kindness of the gesture. “Thank you.”
Marlee’s shift ended two hours later. During that time, no one called, and no one came back for me.
“Look, I can’t just leave you here,” she said. “My apartment’s not far…”
So, I went home with Marlee to an apartment smaller than my bedroom.
An apartment building | Source: Pexels
She made soup from a can and loaned me thick wool socks when she noticed me rubbing my feet.
“My brother’s room is yours tonight,” she said, showing me to a small bedroom with posters of bands I didn’t recognize. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.”
I lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling.
A man lying in a bed | Source: Pexels
Not once had Marlee asked who I was beyond my name. Not once had she questioned whether helping me would benefit her in any way.
She saw an old man in need and extended her hand. Simple as that.
When morning came, I borrowed Marlee’s cellphone and made one call — to my lawyer. It was time to teach my family a lesson.
A man making a phone call | Source: Pexels
I was home by mid-morning, and my family started arriving by noon, their faces twisted with panic and indignation.
“Dad, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” Gregory started, standing in my foyer like he owned the place.
“We went back for you!” Caroline insisted, though we both knew it was a lie.
A woman speaking to someone | Source: Pexels
I let them talk themselves out. Let them rage and plead and make promises we all knew they wouldn’t keep.
When they finally fell silent, I opened the front door.
Marlee stood on the porch, a plate of homemade cookies in her hands. I placed a gentle hand on Marlee’s shoulder as she entered, confusion evident on her face as she took in the scene.
A confused woman | Source: Pexels
“This,” I said, calm as still water, “is Marlee. She didn’t know who I was. She didn’t know what I had. But she saved me, took care of me, and reminded me what it means to be seen.”
My family stared, uncomprehending.
“I’m taking back all the businesses, cars, houses, and every other gift I’ve ever given you all,” I continued, watching the realization dawn on their faces. “Everything you thought was yours will now belong to her.”
A man pointing his finger | Source: Pexels
“You can’t be serious,” Caroline whispered, her perfectly manicured hand pressed to her throat.
“You left me at a gas station without a backward glance. And I finally saw you all clearly.”
Marlee looked between us all, stunned. “Lennox, I don’t understand—”
“You will,” I said gently. “But unlike them, you never have to worry about what it means to be family. You already know.”
An emotional man | Source: Pexels
They left in a storm of threats and tears. But I felt lighter than I had in decades. Marlee stayed, confused but kind as ever.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I told her as we sat in my study later. “The money and properties are yours, regardless. But I hope you’ll let an old man show you the ropes.”
She smiled then, and it reminded me so much of Helen that my heart squeezed in my chest.
A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
“I think,” she said carefully, “that we could both use a friend.”
And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I didn’t feel forgotten at all.
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