The relentless snowstorm made me seek shelter in a stranger’s home. At first, Justin seemed kind. Too kind. But when I discovered his connection to my biggest secret, everything changed.
That morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. The alarm blared, making the sensation worse. I groaned, fumbling to turn it off, and stared at the ceiling. Something felt off like the day was already conspiring against me.
At work, my boss, Lori, was standing at the head of the table, her sharp eyes scanning the room like a hawk circling prey. Meetings with Lori were less about collaboration and more about survival.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Good morning, team! Before we dive into the numbers,” Lori began, her gaze settling on me, “I have a special assignment.”
My stomach tightened.
“Sophia,” she continued, “you’ll be heading to Montana. There’s a small mountain town where our competitors are testing campaigns. I want you there by tomorrow.”
“Montana?!”
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“Yes, Montana. You’ll gather intel on their strategies. We need to stay ahead.”
“But it’s Thanksgiving! I had plans.”
Lori cut me off. “Plans can wait. This is business. You’re the best we’ve got for this kind of work.”
I glanced around the room. The silence was deafening.
“I’ll get it done,” I muttered, my hands clenched under the table.
“Excellent! Now, let’s discuss next quarter’s goals.”
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It felt ridiculous, yet there was no arguing with Lori. She wielded her authority like a weapon, and one wrong move could mean the end of my career.
After the meeting, I opened my laptop. My inbox was already filled with follow-ups from Lori: flight details, a contact list, and a reminder that the trip was “critical” for the company’s success.
I sighed, staring at the cursor blinking in the search bar.
“Montana, here I come,” I muttered, booking the flight.
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***
I packed my suitcase in record time, and in a few hours, I was seated on the plane, staring out the window at the clouds gathering in the distance.
“Looks like we’re in for some holiday weather,” a voice said beside me.
I turned to see a man settling into the seat next to mine. He had a warm, easy smile and a kind face.
“I’m Justin,” he said, extending a hand.
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“Sophia,” I replied, shaking it.
The usual polite small talk followed: where we were headed, what we did for a living. Then, after the second glass of sparkling wine, without thinking much, I let it slip.
“Actually, I’m supposed to gather ideas from competitors for my job. I guess you could call it espionage.”
Justin chuckled. “Espionage, huh? Sounds like you’ve got a pretty important job if it’s pulling you away from Thanksgiving.”
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“Well, somebody has to do it,” I said lightly, though the bitterness crept into my voice.
The flight passed fast thanks to Justin’s friendly conversation. But the moment we landed, the storm was full-blown chaos. Snow piled up against the terminal windows.
“All flights are canceled until further notice,” the intercom blared.
I sighed, pulling my coat tighter around me. The thought of spending the night in the freezing terminal made my headache return.
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“Rough day?” Justin appeared again, dragging his suitcase.
“You could say that.” I showed him the fully booked hotel listings on my phone.
“Well. I live nearby. It’s not fancy, but you’re welcome to stay.”
I blinked at him. “Are you sure?”
“It’s better than freezing here. Come on.”
Grateful and too tired to argue, I followed him out into the snowy night.
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***
When we arrived at Justin’s house, the snow was falling in thick, quiet flakes. The world outside was still, as though the storm had tucked everything in for the night.
“Everyone’s asleep,” Justin said, taking off his boots by the door. “I’ll show you to the guest room.”
I followed him up a narrow staircase. The house had a lived-in charm — family photos lined the walls, and the faint scent of pine lingered in the air. Justin opened a door and flicked on the light.
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“Here you go,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable. There are extra blankets in the closet if you need them. I’ll leave some tea and dinner for you downstairs.”
“Thanks.”
As he left, I glanced around the room. Suddenly, I noticed a photo on the wall. It was Justin, smiling broadly, with a group of employees in front of a sign. The logo on the sign was unmistakable. My stomach dropped.
Justin is the competitor!
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Before I could process the shock, my phone started buzzing on the nightstand. I groaned, knowing exactly who it was. Sure enough, Lori’s name flashed across the screen. Reluctantly, I answered.
“Well, well,” Lori’s voice crackled through the line, filled with satisfaction. “Looks like you’re exactly where you need to be.”
“Lori,” I began, keeping my voice low, “this isn’t…”
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“Listen, Sophia,” she cut me off. “I don’t care about your excuses. You’re there to get the job done. Dig through his files, find out what projects they’re working on, and send me everything. Don’t forget, I can make it look like this was all your idea. Clients won’t trust someone who spies on their own. Understood?”
Her words were ice in my veins. I hesitated, torn between guilt and the crushing pressure of her threats.
“Fine,” I muttered finally.
The call ended, leaving me feeling like I’d just made a deal with the devil.
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***
Hours later, when Justin’s house had gone completely quiet, I crept downstairs. His office door was slightly ajar, the glow of his laptop casting faint shadows.
My hands shook as I searched through his files, stopping when I spotted a flash drive inserted into the laptop.
That’s it! All in there!
Just as I reached for it, I heard a small voice.
“Hi,” a little girl said, rubbing her eyes. “I’m Liv.”
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“Hi, Liv,” I whispered, glancing nervously toward the hallway. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“Are you playing hide-and-seek?”
Before I could respond, Justin’s voice called softly, “Liv? What are you doing up?”
I panicked, ducking under the desk and motioning for Liv to keep quiet. She gave a tiny nod.
Justin appeared in the doorway, scooping her into his arms. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you back to bed.”
As they left, I grabbed the flash drive, tucked it into my pocket, and slipped back to my room.
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***
The following morning, I intended to leave quietly, avoiding an awkward goodbye, but Justin and Liv were already at the kitchen table.
“Morning,” Justin greeted, his warm smile lighting up the room. “You must be starving after all that travel. Come on in.”
I stepped hesitantly into the cozy kitchen, the scent of fresh coffee and pancakes drawing me in. Liv was drawing at the table.
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“Hi! I am Liv,” she said brightly.
Then, to my surprise, she raised a finger to her lips and whispered, “Shh,” mimicking the gesture I’d made to her the night before.
My cheeks flushed. “Hi, Liv! I am Sophia. Could I see your masterpiece?”
Did she remember everything?
“Yup!” She giggled, giving me her picture. “Daddy says we’re making pancakes for you. I helped with the batter.”
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“She’s the head chef this morning,” Justin chimed in, flipping a pancake on the stove.
“Thanks for letting me stay last night. It was kind of you.”
“Not a problem. Storm like that? You’d have frozen at the airport.”
Liv hopped down from her chair and skipped over to the counter. She picked up a plate piled high with golden pancakes and walked it over to me, balancing it carefully with both hands.
“Daddy, can we have whipped cream on them?” Liv asked, tugging at Justin’s sleeve.
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“You have to ask our guest first. Does Sophia like whipped cream?”
Liv turned to me. “Do you?”
“Of course,” I said, laughing. “Who doesn’t?”
Liv clapped her hands. As she sprayed a generous swirl onto her pancake, she glanced at me again, her finger returning to her lips in a playful “shh.”
My heart sank slightly.
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She did remember!
Justin slid into the seat across from me. As we ate, he shared his story.
“After Liv’s mom passed away during childbirth,” he began, “it was just the two of us. Balancing parenthood and running the company hasn’t been easy, but Liv’s my reason for everything.”
Liv looked up from her pancakes, her face glowing with pride. “Daddy works hard, but he always has time for me.”
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This man isn’t just kind. He is incredible! And I betrayed his trust the night before.
Justin leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. “What about you, Sophia? What drives you?”
What can I say? That my job feels like a race I could never win? That I don’t even know what I am chasing anymore?
“I guess I’ve been so focused on my career that I haven’t stopped to think about it,” I admitted, pushing my fork into the last bite of pancake. “Maybe it’s time I do.”
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The warmth of the moment was shattered when my phone buzzed loudly on the table. Lori’s name flashed across the screen. I excused myself and stepped outside. The cold air bit at my cheeks as I read her latest message:
“Where is the file, Sophia? If you don’t send it now, you’re done. Fired. And don’t think you’ll find work elsewhere. I’ll make sure no one hires you again.”
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I stared at the phone. My career, my reputation… It was all on the line. But then I thought about Justin’s story and Liv’s trust in her Dad.
Can I really betray that?
I turned back toward the house, walked over, and held out the flash drive to Justin.
“Here. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
He looked at me, then nodded. I grabbed my coat and bag, said a quick goodbye to Liv, and walked out the door, fighting back tears.
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At the airport, I waited for my flight, staring at my phone as Lori’s messages piled up.
“You’re done. You’ll regret this. You’re fired!”
My future felt uncertain, and fear clawed at me. But before I could spiral further, I heard a familiar voice.
“Sophia.”
I turned to see Justin standing there, holding Liv’s hand. My heart almost stopped.
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“I knew everything from the start,” he said calmly. “Liv told me about ‘hide-and-seek,’ and I recognized your company’s name on your documents on the plane. Lori and I have crossed paths before.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I invited you because I liked you. Even after everything, I could see you weren’t the kind of person to go through with something like this. I wanted to see what you’d choose. And you made the right choice.”
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“Daddy says you can stay for Thanksgiving. Will you?”
Justin smiled softly. “The offer still stands.”
I didn’t have to think long. “I’d like that.”
That Thanksgiving, as snow blanketed the world outside, I felt a warmth of home. Perhaps that was the start of a life filled with meaning, love, and the promise of a future with Justin and Liv.
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I Couldn’t Understand Why My Mother-in-Law Hated Me until I Found Her Letters in My House’s Attic – Story of the Day
During a visit to her mother-in-law, Macy endures relentless mocking of her cooking, appearance, and how she treats her husband. When she finally stands up for herself, she becomes the villain. However, an unexpected find in her father’s house reveals reasons behind it all, changing her perspective.
On an empty road on a sunny holiday evening, a car cruised along. Inside, behind the wheel, was Chandler, a cheerful man with a perpetual smile on his face.
He was steering with one hand while carefully scrolling through his playlist with the other.
Concentrated on two tasks, his gaze constantly shifted between the road and the player. The bright sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on his face.
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Next to him sat his wife, Macy. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and her eyes stared straight ahead, avoiding Chandler.
Her face was a picture of irritation, her lips pressed into a thin line. The tension in the car was palpable, almost as if a cloud of unease hung over them.
After what seemed like ages, Chandler finally settled on a song. “Take Me Home, Country Roads” by John Denver filled the car.
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Chandler’s smile widened, and he nodded his head in time with the music.
“Almost Heaven…” he began to sing, glancing at Macy, hoping she would join in. His voice was warm and inviting, filled with the hope that the music might lighten her mood.
But Macy remained silent, her eyes fixed firmly on the passing scenery outside. Her irritation only seemed to deepen.
Seeing her reaction, Chandler, undeterred, turned up the volume a little, the familiar tune growing louder.
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Macy’s face tightened, and she turned away even more, pressing herself against the car door as if trying to escape the sound.
“Turn it down…” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the music.
Chandler wasn’t ready to give up. He took a deep breath and sang even louder, “Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong…”
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He looked at Macy with a wide grin, trying to draw her into the song, hoping his enthusiasm would be contagious.
Macy’s patience snapped. With a swift, angry motion, she reached out and turned off the player. The car fell into a sudden, heavy silence. The tension thickened, filling the space between them like a dense fog.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something?”
Chandler asked, his voice filled with concern and a hint of confusion. He kept his eyes on the road but occasionally glanced at Macy, hoping for some explanation.
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“It’s not you… I’m just not in the mood for songs… you know why…” Macy’s voice was tight with suppressed emotion.
“Because of my mom, right? It’s just for the weekend, dear…” Chandler’s voice was gentle, trying to soothe her.
“She hates me… She always finds something wrong… Either I cook wrong, clean wrong, talk wrong, look wrong… I can’t even breathe without hearing that something’s wrong with me.” Macy’s words tumbled out in a rush, her frustration clear.
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“I know, dear, I have no idea why she’s picking on you like that. But it’s only for this weekend, I promise I’ll talk to her to be kinder.” Chandler reached out to touch her hand, but she pulled away, still too upset to be comforted.
“No need, the last thing I need is for her to know I’m complaining about her. Let her do what she wants, I just wonder why she does it.”
Macy’s voice wavered, and she let out a heavy sigh, staring down at her lap.
“We can’t change the direction of the wind…” Chandler said softly, glancing at her with a hopeful smile.
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Macy sighed sadly, feeling the weight of the weekend ahead pressing down on her.
“But we can adjust the sails,” Chandler added with a smile, hoping to bring a little lightness to the conversation.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Macy’s mouth. She reached over and pressed the player, starting the song again. “Country road! Take me hoooome,” they sang together.
Chandler sang loudly and diligently, while Macy joined in with less enthusiasm but already starting to feel a bit lighter. The warmth of the music and the moment shared began to melt away the tension, if only just a little.
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Arriving at Chandler’s mother Linda’s house, they immediately noticed that her lawn was unkempt, and the yard was a bit dirty. Weeds were poking through the cracks in the walkway, and the bushes were overgrown.
“I’ve offered her so many times to order lawn mowing for her,” Macy said, shaking her head.
“You know her, she doesn’t like it when someone helps her,” Chandler replied, his voice calm and understanding.
“Yes, yes, everything herself… That’s our Linda,” Macy added sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t mock her, she’s still my mom,” Chandler said, a gentle reminder in his tone.
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“I know, it’s just that she’s all alone here…” Macy trailed off, her voice softening.
“You mean well, but trust me. Over time, everything will change,” Chandler reassured her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Just then, the door opened, and Linda came out, wiping her hands on her apron. “Chandler, what took you so long? The food is getting cold, come in quickly,” she called out, her tone brisk but warm.
“Hi Mom, we’re coming,” Chandler replied with a smile, waving at her.
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“Hello, Linda,” Macy greeted calmly, trying to keep her voice neutral.
Linda looked at Macy, sized her up, and in a half-tone said, “And you came? Welcome…”
Chandler understandingly looked at Macy, giving her a supportive nod, and walked inside with her, ready to face whatever came next.
The table was set with Linda’s finest china, and the savory aroma of stew filled the air. Linda invited Chandler and Macy to sit, her voice carrying a note of forced cheerfulness.
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The dining room was cozy, with family photos on the walls and an old grandfather clock ticking softly in the corner.
“Please, sit down,” Linda said, gesturing to their places.
Macy and Chandler took their seats. Chandler noticed the tension between Linda and Macy almost immediately. They exchanged guarded glances, and Macy’s shoulders were tense. He decided to break the ice.
“Mom, the stew is delicious, just like in childhood!” Chandler exclaimed, his eyes bright with enthusiasm as he took a bite.
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Linda’s face softened slightly. “I know how much you love it, eat up, son. You probably don’t get fed like this at home.”
Macy felt the sting of Linda’s words. She forced herself to stay calm, remembering Chandler’s advice to endure. She took a deep breath and tried to smile.
“Mom, you don’t have to say that. Macy cooks wonderfully,” Chandler said, trying to defend his wife without escalating the situation.
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Linda glanced at Chandler’s shirt and noticed a small stain. She reached over and wiped it with her hand, her movements sharp and precise. “And she also takes great care of your clothes…” she added sarcastically.
Macy’s grip on her fork tightened. She felt anger bubbling up inside her but took another deep breath. This wasn’t the time to explode.
“I’m not very hungry,” Macy said, standing up. “I’ll go wash the dishes.”
Linda watched her leave with a disapproving look, her eyes following Macy’s every move.
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Macy walked into the kitchen, where the sound of running water soon filled the silence. She began scrubbing the plates with more force than necessary, trying to release her frustration.
In the dining room, Chandler turned to his mother. “Mom, you’re always hurting her. She’s my wife; you can’t talk to her like that.”
“And I’m your mother!” Linda snapped back. “I’m just telling the truth. She can’t even eat normally because of her nerves…”
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In the kitchen, Macy heard every word. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the anger rising like a tidal wave. This was the last straw. She turned off the water, left the dishes half-washed, and marched back into the dining room.
“Great, so we’re telling the truth now?” Macy said, her voice shaking with anger. “Fine, I’ll try too!”
“Dear, please don’t…” Chandler pleaded, sensing the explosion that was about to happen.
“It’s very necessary!” Macy retorted, her eyes flashing with determination. She turned to Linda, her voice steady and cold.
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“Linda, how about a hostess who has her lawn in a terrible state? It’s already looking like a swamp. How many times have I offered to help, but you’re too proud!”
Linda’s face flushed with anger. “It’s none of your business what my lawn looks like!”
“Why not? It’s your business how I cook! You don’t miss a single flaw of mine. So here’s yours. You’re a bitter, lonely woman who finds it easier to ruin her own son’s life to lift her mood! You don’t deserve him!”
“Enough! Stop it, both of you!” Chandler shouted, unable to take the hostility any longer. He stood up, placing himself between the two women.
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Linda finally couldn’t hold back. Tears welled up in her eyes and began to flow down her cheeks. Chandler turned to Macy, his expression a mix of frustration and sorrow.
“Why did you do that!? It doesn’t help the situation.”
“Me? What was I supposed to do, endure it further? To make things easier for you? I’m fed up with all this!” Macy shouted back, her voice breaking with emotion. She grabbed her coat, her movements quick and jerky.
“Where are you going?” Chandler asked, his voice tinged with desperation.
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“Away from here,” Macy replied, her voice cold and resolute. She left the house and slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing in the now-silent dining room.
Chandler stood there, torn between his wife and his mother, unsure of how to mend the rift that had just widened even further.
Linda sank into her chair, tears still streaming down her face, while the smell of the now-cold stew lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of the evening’s disastrous turn.
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Macy took a taxi to a house that once belonged to her father. Now, it stood abandoned, filled with old things and memories.
She walked through the front door, pushing it open with a slight effort, and entered the dusty, quiet house.
Macy made her way to her old room, pushing open the door with a soft creak. The room looked just as she remembered it, frozen in time.
She ran her fingers over the faded wallpaper and the old bedspread.
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Then she walked to her father’s room. It felt like stepping into a museum of her childhood.
On the nightstand was a photo in a frame. Macy picked it up and stared at her father’s face. She missed him so much; she longed for her parents in moments like this. She sighed deeply, holding the photo close.
Her phone rang, breaking the silence. She took it out of her pocket and saw Chandler’s name on the screen. With a heavy heart, she answered and brought the phone to her ear.
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“Where are you?” Chandler asked, his voice filled with worry.
“At my father’s…” Macy replied softly.
“In that old house? Please come back, I was wrong…” Chandler’s voice was pleading.
“I’ll come back… Give me some time.” Macy’s voice was steady but sad.
“Okay…” Chandler sighed. They hung up, leaving Macy alone with her thoughts.
After hanging up, Macy decided to go up to the attic. The attic was filled with boxes, covered in a thick layer of dust. She started rummaging through them, looking for some connection to her father.
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She found his favorite hat, his old toolset, and his baseball glove. He had always dreamed of having a son, but Macy played with him too, and that’s how she came to love baseball.
At the bottom of a box, she found a strange package. Opening it, she saw a bunch of letters, their edges yellowed with age. Macy was intrigued. Who could have written to her reclusive father?
She began to read a few letters and was shocked. Her father hadn’t written a single reply. All these letters were to him from Linda, Chandler’s mother.
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Macy couldn’t believe it. She read the names and addresses over and over, but everything matched.
Linda had written dozens of letters to her father. Macy opened the last one and everything clicked into place. Linda and her father had been together in their youth.
It didn’t lead to marriage or children, just a youthful love. In the letters, Linda wrote that she still loved him and asked why he left her when everything was so good.
Macy sat back, stunned. Linda knew that Macy was the daughter of the man who rejected her.
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A man who once broke her heart and stayed in her memory forever. Linda was a lonely woman who couldn’t forget the pain Macy’s father had caused her.
Macy’s words during their argument had cut deep because they came from the daughter of the man who had hurt Linda so much. Now, Macy regretted what she had said. Everything made sense now.
Macy returned to Linda’s house and quietly entered. In the living room, Chandler and Linda were already waiting for her.
“Dear, please forgive me…” Chandler began, his voice filled with emotion.
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“Yes, Macy. I was wrong… I want to…” Linda started to say.
“No need…” Macy gently interrupted, walking towards Linda. She wrapped her arms around Linda in a warm hug. “Forgive me, and my father,” she whispered.
Linda was surprised but softened in Macy’s embrace, letting go of the past pain. At that moment, no more words were needed.
Both women understood each other perfectly. The conflict was resolved, marking the beginning of a friendly relationship.
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