Single mother Riley was trying her best to find love, even though it was tough. As soon as her dates found out she had a son, the romance quickly faded away. Her desperation grew, and Riley felt she had no choice but to hide her son. However, she immediately regretted that decision.
Riley stood in front of her 8-year-old son, Roy, with a heavy heart, unsure if she was making the right choice. At 32, balancing life as a single mother and trying to find love felt like walking a tightrope.
Ever since her ex-boyfriend walked out on her as soon as he found out she was pregnant, Riley had been left to raise Roy on her own.
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Over the years, she had embraced being a mom and built a world around her son, but deep down, there was still a longing—someone to share her life with, someone to love her as much as she loved Roy.
But finding that someone was harder than she ever imagined. Every time she met someone new, things seemed promising until they found out about Roy.
It was as if the mere mention of her child made them pull away. The disappointment stung every time, and Riley was growing tired of it.
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Now, with this new date on the horizon with Mitchell, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was her last chance to see if there was hope.
Mitchell seemed different—kind, charming, and someone who could be the one. But she was afraid that if she introduced Roy too soon, she’d scare him off like the others.
“I don’t want to go to Kyle’s tonight,” Roy whined, clutching his favorite toy tightly in his arms.
His face was scrunched up in a pout, his big eyes pleading.
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“I want to stay here with you.”
Riley crouched down so that she was eye-level with her son, trying to push aside the guilt gnawing at her. She gently brushed a strand of hair off his forehead and forced a smile.
“Roy, it’s just for one night,” she said, trying to sound upbeat.
“You always have so much fun with Kyle. You two will stay up, watch movies, play games—it’ll be a blast. And I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning.”
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Roy’s expression softened slightly, but he still looked uncertain. “But what if I don’t want to sleep there?”
“You’ll be fine,” Riley reassured him. “It’s only for tonight, and tomorrow we’ll do something fun, okay?”
As much as she loved Roy, she needed this night to go well. She had arranged for him to have a sleepover at his friend Kyle’s house, something she rarely did. But tonight was different.
Tonight, she was going to see if there was a future with Mitchell, and to do that, she needed to focus on herself.
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She didn’t want to have to worry about Roy or the complications that might arise from mentioning she had a child too soon.
The taxi arrived at the Kyles house, and with one final hug, Riley sent Roy inside.
She felt a pang in her heart as she watched him walk up the steps, his shoulders slightly slumped, but she quickly reminded herself that this was necessary.
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She wasn’t doing this just for herself—if things went well with Mitchell, it could mean a better future for both of them.
As the taxi pulled away from Kyle’s house, Riley took a deep breath and tried to focus on the evening ahead.
She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.
When Riley arrived at the restaurant, she spotted Mitchell waiting at a small table near the window. He looked sharp in a clean-cut suit, his hair neatly combed, and when he saw her approaching, his face lit up with a warm smile.
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Riley’s nerves immediately kicked in, but she had put effort into her appearance tonight—her favorite dress, just enough makeup to feel confident, and a pair of heels that made her feel taller.
She wanted to feel good about herself, especially since she was hoping this date could be something more than just casual.
They exchanged a few pleasantries as they sat down, but there was an awkward tension in the air.
Neither of them seemed to know what to say to get the conversation going. Riley’s mind raced as she tried to think of a topic to break the ice, but Mitchell beat her to it.
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“So, do you think the menu is a bit too… fancy?” Mitchell asked, a playful smile on his face. “I mean, I’ve never seen so many different kinds of salad in my life.”
Riley couldn’t help but laugh. The tension broke, and the joke made her feel more at ease.
“I know, right? Who knew you could have six varieties of lettuce?” she joked back.
With that, the conversation flowed more easily. They started talking about their favorite foods, funny stories from their jobs, and some light-hearted moments from their past.
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Riley found herself laughing more than she had in months, and for a while, she felt like she could enjoy the evening without overthinking everything.
But as they finished dinner and stepped outside for a walk, that nagging thought crept back into her mind. She still hadn’t told him about Roy.
The guilt weighed on her. She liked Mitchell, and they were getting along so well, but would that change if he knew she was a single mother?
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Taking a deep breath, Riley decided to test the waters.
“Mitchell, what do you think about kids?” she asked, trying to sound casual but feeling her heart race as she waited for his answer.
Mitchell’s expression shifted slightly. He hesitated for a second and then quickly changed the subject.
Riley’s heart sank. His avoidance was clear, and it made her even more anxious about telling him the truth.
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She didn’t want to lose this connection, but hiding such a big part of her life felt wrong.
Before she could figure out what to say next, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Startled, she quickly excused herself and answered. It was Kyle.
“Kyle? Is everything okay?” she asked, trying to hide her rising worry.
Kyle’s voice was shaky. “Roy fell really bad, and he won’t stop crying. You need to come get him.”
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Riley’s heart leaped into her throat. Her son needed her, and there was no question in her mind about what she had to do next.
Riley took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she turned to Mitchell. She knew she couldn’t avoid the truth any longer.
“Mitchell, I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice slightly trembling.
Mitchell looked at her with genuine concern in his eyes. “What is it?”
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“I have an 8-year-old son, Roy,” Riley admitted, the weight of the words hanging in the air. “I didn’t tell you earlier because… I was afraid it would scare you away.”
She paused, gauging his reaction. His face showed a hint of surprise, but he remained silent, letting her continue.
“I left him at his friend’s house tonight so we could have some space, but he just got hurt, and I need to go get him. I’m so sorry. I lied, and I shouldn’t have done that.”
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Mitchell stared at her for a few moments, and Riley braced herself for the worst. But then, he smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that reassured her.
“Riley, it’s okay,” he said gently. “I understand. And honestly, I’ve been hiding something too.”
Riley blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
Mitchell let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair.
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“I have a daughter. She’s twelve. I didn’t mention her because I was afraid of how you’d react too.”
Riley’s heart lifted with relief. “You do?” she asked, her voice softening with surprise. She hadn’t expected this.
Mitchell nodded.
“Yeah, and I get it, Riley. Being a parent is tough. You’re constantly juggling everything, trying to make sure your kid is okay while also trying to live your own life. Dating is even harder when you’re trying to balance it all.” He smiled warmly at her.
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“Why don’t I come with you? We can go get Roy together. I’d like to meet him.”
Riley’s eyes welled up with gratitude, a mixture of relief and joy washing over her.
She had been so scared of telling him, of being judged, but here he was, offering to help.
“You’d do that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
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Mitchell smiled again, his expression calm and reassuring. “Of course. I know how important he is to you. Let’s go make sure he’s okay.”
Riley couldn’t believe how everything had turned out. She smiled back at Mitchell, feeling a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in a long time. Together, they headed to the car, ready to get Roy.
Mitchell drove Riley to Kyle’s house, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. Riley sat beside him, her mind racing with worry about Roy.
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They barely exchanged words, but Mitchell’s presence was comforting. As soon as they arrived, they both hurried to the front door, their nerves apparent in their quick steps.
Kyle’s mother greeted them with a calm expression, clearly puzzled by their urgency. “Is everything alright?” she asked, looking from Riley to Mitchell.
“Kyle called and said Roy was hurt,” Riley explained, her voice trembling with concern.
Kyle’s mother’s brow furrowed in confusion, but she remained calm.
“Oh, I’m sure he’s fine. The boys are just upstairs, playing video games. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Riley and Mitchell followed her upstairs, hearts pounding, though the woman’s calm demeanor reassured them slightly.
When they reached Kyle’s room, Riley pushed the door open carefully, bracing herself. There, sitting on the floor, were Roy and Kyle, engrossed in their game, completely unharmed.
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Relief washed over Riley as she knelt in front of Roy, her voice soft but full of concern. “Roy, what happened? Kyle said you were hurt.”
Roy blushed deeply, fiddling with the controller in his hands. “I… I just missed you, Mom. I wanted you to come back.”
Riley’s heart melted. She pulled Roy into a tight hug, tears welling up in her eyes. “Oh, Roy. You don’t have to make up stories to see me. I’ll always come back for you, no matter what.”
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Behind her, Mitchell chuckled softly, the tension in the air dissolving. “Well, looks like the crisis has been averted,” he said with a grin.
As they drove home, Riley couldn’t help but laugh at how the night had turned out. All the stress and fear had vanished, replaced by the warmth of the moment.
She glanced at Roy, who was happily chatting away in the back seat, and then over at Mitchell, who smiled at her.
“How about our next date?” Mitchell asked, his eyes twinkling. “We bring the kids.”
Riley smiled back, her heart light. “I’d like that.”
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A woman ruined an 8-hour flight for fellow travelers – Following the journey, the captain took steps to address her behavior
When James is on his way home after a swimming competition in London, all he wants is to sleep on the flight. But that’s the last thing on the agenda because sitting next to him is a woman who only wants to cause trouble. Eight hours later, the captain teaches her a lesson.
I was already prepared for the flight. I knew that it was going to be a long one. I mean, eight hours from London to New York was not going to be easy, but I had my earplugs, sleeping pills, and a few snacks to keep me going.
I had just wrapped up a grueling swimming competition, and every muscle in my body was crying for some much-needed rest. I was in the middle seat, which wasn’t ideal for my height, but I was too tired to care. The woman next to me, at the window, seemed just as wiped out as I was, and I could see her eyes drooping before we took off.
We exchanged a weary smile before settling into our seats.
It’s okay, James, I thought to myself. You’ll sleep through it all.
But then there was the woman who was going to be the cause of absolute mayhem and discomfort for the next eight hours.
From the moment she sat down next to me, I sensed that she was going to be trouble. She was huffing and puffing and shifting around like she’d been assigned to a seat in the luggage compartment instead of economy.
“Oh boy,” the window-seat woman sighed.
Aisle-seat woman, let’s call her Karen, kept eyeing me up and down, her mouth twisting into a frown.
Look, I’m a tall guy at six foot two. I was used to getting uncomfortable stares in airplanes, but it wasn’t my fault.
The first sign of trouble came when the plane took off. Karen pressed the call button, not once like any rational person, but three times in a row, like she was setting off an alarm.
I almost expected an alarm to sound off in the airplane.
“Ma’am,” the flight attendant asked when we had reached cruising altitude, “how can I help you?”
“This seat is unacceptable!” Karen snapped. Her voice was loud enough to draw attention from the rows around us.
“I’m cramped, and look at these two… people! They’re practically spilling over into my space.”
She shot a look at me, then at the woman at the window, who was staring straight ahead, pretending not to notice.
“I’m sorry, but we’re fully booked today,” the flight attendant replied. “There’s nowhere else for you to move.”
“You mean that there’s not one seat available on this flight? What about business class? Nothing?” she demanded.
“No, ma’am,” the flight attendant said. “There’s nothing available.”
“Then I want them moved,” Karen declared, louder this time. “I paid for this seat just like everyone else here, and it’s not fair that I have to be squished next to them. I can’t even open a packet of chips without bumping into this guy.”
For emphasis, she elbowed me in the arm.
I glanced over at the woman in the window seat, who looked on the verge of tears. My patience was wearing thin, too, and I couldn’t handle this woman when my energy tank was empty.
“Ma’am,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could, “we’re all just trying to get through this flight and get to our destinations. There’s really nothing wrong with the seating arrangements here.”
“Nothing wrong?” Karen barked. “Are you kidding me? Are you blind?”
She continued her rant for what felt like hours. And it was clear she wasn’t going to drop it. I tried to ignore her, but she kept shifting in her seat, kicking my legs, and continuously elbowing my arm.
By the fourth hour, I was cranky and exhausted beyond any other moment in my life. I was done.
“Look,” I said, turning to her as the flight attendant wheeled a cart down the aisle, “we can keep this up for the rest of the flight, or we can try and make the best of a bad situation. Why don’t you watch something on the screen? There are some pretty good movies here.”
But she wasn’t having it at all.
“Why don’t you tell her to go on a diet? And why don’t you learn to book seats that have space for your gigantic legs? Why do you both insist on making my life hell?” Karen hissed.
And the entire time we had been talking, Karen was busy pressing the call button.
I felt my blood boil and watched as the woman sitting next to the window tried to make herself as small as possible.
I could see the flight attendants murmuring amongst themselves, giving Karen dirty looks. If I’m being honest, I was just hoping that one of them would slip her a sedative or something. Finally, a flight attendant came over, looking as upset as I was.
“Ma’am, if you don’t calm down, we’re going to have to ask you to stay seated and not press the call button again, not unless it’s an actual emergency.”
“Oh, this is an emergency!” she shouted. “It’s a human rights violation! My rights are being violated, and everyone is just ignoring that!”
The rest of the flight went on like this, with Karen sighing dramatically, muttering under her breath, and generally making everyone around us miserable.
I just kept my head down and tried to focus on the tiny screen in front of me, tracking our progress home.
When we finally landed, I couldn’t have been any happier if I tried. This nightmare was almost over.
But then, as soon as the wheels touched down, Karen was out of her seat, darting up the aisle as if she was about to miss her connecting flight to Mars. The seatbelt sign was still on, and everyone was sitting patiently, waiting for it to turn off.
But not Karen. No, she was ignoring all the calls from the flight attendants, not even looking back. Soon, she was standing right next to the curtain separating the business-class seats from economy.
The rest of us just watched, too exhausted and frustrated to react.
Then came the captain’s voice over the intercom:
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to New York! We have a special guest onboard today.”
There was a collective groan. What now? Were we supposed to sit there for longer?
“We ask that everyone remain seated as I make my way through the cabin to greet this very special passenger.”
Karen perked up for some reason, her shoulders straightening like she’d just been announced as Miss Universe. She looked around with a self-satisfied smile, as if expecting everyone to applaud her.
When the captain came out of the cockpit, we saw a middle-aged man with a calm demeanor and a tired smile. As he saw Karen, he paused.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “I need to get past you to greet our special guest.”
“Oh,” she said, looking surprised. “Of course.”
He continued to make her step back down the aisle until they were almost to our row. It was priceless because although she was complying with him, the confusion growing on her face was clear.
“Maybe you should sit down in your seat,” he said.
The rest of us were watching in stunned silence, catching on to what he was doing. I could feel a smile tugging at my lips. The woman next to me was grinning, too.
Finally, the captain stopped at our row, forcing Karen to move into the row and stand at her seat.
The captain looked up at the seat numbers and grinned to himself before speaking.
“Ah, here we are,” he said, his voice booming through the cabin. “Ladies and gentlemen, our special guest is sitting right here in seat 42C. Can we all give her a round of applause?”
For a moment, there was silence. Then someone started clapping, followed by another, and another. Before long, the whole plane erupted into laughter and applause.
The woman’s face turned bright red. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She just stood there, awkward and humiliated, as the captain took a slight bow and returned to the front.
“That,” I said, leaning back in my seat with a satisfied grin, “was worth the eight hours of this torture.”
The rest of us finally gathered our things and filed out, leaving her to stew in her own embarrassment.
“Jeez,” the woman next to me said. “I’m so glad this is over. I don’t ever want to see that woman again. Maybe we’ll end up next to each other on another flight. Without a Karen this time.”
“Here’s hoping,” I said, and for the first time since the flight started, I genuinely laughed.
What would you have done?
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