
When Derek’s cousin Daisy and her son arrive, it seems like an innocent favor. But strange comments, awkward glances, and hidden tension hint at a darker truth. Then comes the devastating revelation: Daisy isn’t his cousin, and Patrick isn’t his nephew. Shattered by betrayal and blindsided by lies, Rebecca is forced to unravel the secrets her husband tried to bury. Can trust survive a truth this explosive, or is it already too late?
When my husband told me his cousin Daisy and her son Patrick needed a place to stay for a couple of weeks, I didn’t think twice. He said they’d fallen on hard times and just needed a little help to get back on their feet.
“Of course,” I said. “Family is family.”

A woman and her son sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I mean, really? Before Derek and I were married, I had financial issues, too. It had been a struggle and a half to get myself out of my study loan debt, among other things.
So, what would it say about me if I didn’t reach out to help my husband’s family?
That was a month ago. If only I knew how deeply those words would cut.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When Daisy and Patrick arrived, everything seemed fine. At first, Daisy was polite but reserved, and I chalked it up to shyness. She wasn’t particularly warm toward me, but toward Derek?
She was a different person altogether!
She was animated, laughing at his jokes and chatting like they’d known each other forever. I ignored the faint flicker of discomfort that rose in my chest.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
They were family.
Right?
Patrick, though, was another story. At first, he was just an energetic eight-year-old. But within days, he turned into a whirlwind of chaos.

A little boy playing with his toys | Source: Midjourney
Crumbs littered the living room floor, sticky handprints appeared on the walls, and his toys became landmines scattered across the house.
The worst part?
He didn’t listen. I once asked him to clean up after himself, and he threw a tantrum, flinging cushions from the couch.
“You’re not my mother!” he shrieked. “I don’t listen to you!”
I finally had enough one evening.

An upset little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Patrick,” I said firmly, abandoning the light and caring attitude I wanted to initially use with him. “I need you to understand that you’re a guest here. Act properly. Behave. This isn’t your home.”
His reply made my stomach drop.
“No, Rebecca,” he said, spitting out my name. “My mom told me this is our home now.”
I stared at him, unsure if I’d heard him right.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Excuse me?
It had to be a misunderstanding, I told myself. Kids misinterpret things all the time, and Daisy probably said it to make the move easier on him.
But his words stayed with me, a tiny splinter in the back of my mind.
The real unraveling began a week later, during a casual lunch with Derek’s sister, Ashley. She’d come by to invite us to a family dinner, and the three of us were sitting outside, enjoying lemonade and plates of spaghetti. Daisy had taken Patrick for ice cream and a walk to the park.

A little boy holding an ice cream cone | Source: Midjourney
At some point, she turned to me with a warm smile.
“You’re a saint for letting them stay here, Becca,” she said.
I waved her off with a laugh, spearing a meatball with my fork.
“Stop it! It’s your family. How could I turn your cousin and nephew away? Why wouldn’t I let them stay?”

A plate of food | Source: Midjourney
Her fork froze midway to her mouth.
“Wait. So he didn’t tell you?” she gasped.
My chest tightened.
“Tell me what? Ash? Derek?”
Ashley’s eyes darted to Derek, who was suddenly very interested in his glass of lemonade.

A man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, my god. Becca…” she whispered. “You really don’t know…”
“Know what?” My voice wavered as the splinter in my mind turned into a dagger.
Ashley’s face paled.
“Daisy isn’t our cousin, Becca,” she blurted out. “She’s Derek’s ex-girlfriend. And Patrick? He’s their son.”
The room tilted.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I had to grip hard onto the edge of the table to steady myself, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“What are you talking about?” I croaked, though deep down, I already knew the answer.
Ashley looked stricken.
“I thought you knew, Becca! Derek told the whole family he’d explained everything to you. Our mother told him that he had to tell you the truth before you got married. Daisy was raising Patrick with her then-boyfriend, but Derek was sending child support to them!”

A talking older woman | Source: Midjourney
She sighed deeply, remorse filling her lungs. I knew she hated being the one to tell me.
Then, her gaze snapped to him.
“You said you told her!”
Derek didn’t meet my eyes. My stomach churned as every odd moment from the past month clicked into place.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Daisy’s reserved demeanor around me, her easy laughter with Derek, Patrick’s defiant declaration. I felt like the biggest fool on earth.
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor.
“You have to get back to work. I have to clean up here and log onto a meeting. I will be at your office in two hours. And you’re going to explain everything.”
Derek’s face clouded and then cleared. He nodded.

An upset man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. I’ll push my meetings, Becs,” he said, leaving.
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” Ashley said, picking up the empty plates. “I truly thought that Derek was a man of his word.”
“It’s not your fault, babe,” I said. “This is on him. But I need you to know that whatever happens next has nothing to do with you. Okay?”
She nodded meekly and began to wash the dishes.

A woman busy at the sink | Source: Midjourney
At Derek’s office, I waited in a small conference room, my heart still hammering. When Derek walked in, he looked like he’d aged ten years in the span of an hour.
He sat across from me, his shoulders slumped.
“Start talking,” I demanded.
He exhaled shakily, avoiding my gaze.

A conference room | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, Daisy is my ex-girlfriend,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And Patrick is my son.”
The words hit like a wrecking ball.
“You lied to me,” I said. “You looked me in the eyes and lied. You allowed me to set up the guest room, to turn my home office into a makeshift kid’s room? You watched all of that, and you didn’t think about telling me the truth?”

A cozy guest bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t know how to tell you, Becca,” he stammered. “It was years before we met. Daisy and I broke up before Patrick was born. I’ve always supported him financially, but I kept my distance. When Daisy reached out, she said that she needed help. And I felt obligated. That’s my son, after all.”
“Obligated?” I spat. “You lied to me about who they are! You let me believe they were your cousin and nephew! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”
“I know,” he said, tears pooling in his eyes. “But I was scared. I thought it would push you away. I thought it would be easier this way. I’m sorry. I’ll tell Daisy and Patrick to leave tonight if that’s what you want.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
His desperation might’ve softened me on any other day, but right then, it only made me angrier.
“They should’ve left the moment this charade started. You’ve disrespected me in every way possible.”
He didn’t try to argue.
“You’re right,” he whispered. “I’ll fix this.”
The next few days were excruciating.

An upset man | Source: Midjourney
Daisy avoided me entirely, and Patrick kept to his room, his usual chaos replaced by an eerie silence.
Derek threw himself into damage control, arranging for Daisy and Patrick to move into a rental while simultaneously begging for my forgiveness.
I confronted Daisy once, though.
“Why would you go along with this lie?” I demanded, watching her make her way through my kitchen while she made a sandwich.

A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
She flushed with shame, almost dropping the jar of mayonnaise.
“I didn’t want to lie,” she said softly. “But Derek thought it would be easier. I’m sorry. I never wanted to cause problems.”
Her apology didn’t heal the wound, but it clarified one thing for me:
This disaster was Derek’s making.

A jar of mayonnaise | Source: Midjourney
Once Daisy and Patrick moved out, the house felt unbearably quiet.
Derek tried everything to make amends. He left me notes apologizing for his lies, attended therapy on his own, and took on every household chore without being asked.
His remorse was evident, but my trust in him had been shattered.

A man busy in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
It took weeks of reflection, long conversations with my best friend, Sharon, and more than a few sleepless nights before I made my decision.
“Just know what you’re getting into, Becca,” Sharon said, stirring her matcha latte. “I’ll support you, of course, but please, think about it from all sides.”
One evening, I called Derek into the living room. He sat across from me, his face tense with anticipation.

A matcha latte | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not ready to forgive you, D,” I began, my voice steady. “But I’m willing to try.”
Relief washed over his face, but I held up a hand.
“This is your last chance, Derek,” I said firmly. “No more lies. No more half-truths. If you want this marriage to survive, you have to earn back my trust.”
“I will,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “I promise.”

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Rebuilding our marriage won’t be easy, and part of me wonders if it’s even possible.
But for now, I’m taking it one day at a time. I’ve learned one thing through all of this. Trust isn’t something you can take for granted.
It’s fragile.
As for Derek? He’s on thin ice. And if he thinks I’ll ignore the warning signs ever again, he’s dead wrong.
So now, I have to figure out how to be a stepmother.

A close up of a couple | Source: Midjourney
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you. When Alicia and Matt’s Christmas holiday trip to Jamaica is canceled due to his father’s open-heart surgery, they decide that spending time with the family is more important. Weeks later, Nancy, Matt’s mother, promises the couple a gift… only to take it back later and replace it with something unexpected.
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.
Old Man Sells Shabby Suitcase, Everyone Ignores Him except Lame Boy Who Agrees to Buy It — Story of the Day

A boy goes to the flea market to buy old music tapes, but he takes pity on an elderly man selling an old suitcase, and that act of kindness changes his life.
Martin Farmer’s life wasn’t easy and it contained few pleasures. He was seventeen years old, but he was already carrying a heavy load of responsibility. His mother was ill, and his father had passed away two years before, leaving him as the man of the house.
Shortly after that, a motorbike accident had left Martin with severe injuries to his left leg, which ended his brilliant football career, and he had been counting on football to pay his way through college…

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Money was short so Martin worked after school every day and all day Saturdays to make ends meet and help pay for his mom’s medication. Once in a while he took $5 out of his savings and went to the local flea market to look for old music tapes from the 80s and the 90s.
Those monthly trips to the flea market were his only pleasure — his only hobby. That Sunday, Martin was recovering from a particularly hard week. He had worked hard, but his mother’s medical bills had come in the mail.
His week’s paycheck wasn’t enough to keep the wolves at bay forever, Martin knew that. He and his mother had a heated argument on Saturday night. He wanted to quit school and work full time, but his mother disagreed.
This morning he got up early, made her breakfast, and then headed out for the flea market. At least for a couple of hours, he’d stop thinking about his problems.
It was a beautiful morning so the fair was full of people browsing through the trash and treasures of other people’s lives, and Martin headed for one particular vendor he knew well.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
He was standing by the man’s table, going through a treasure trove of old tapes when an old man arrived and set up a pile of old bags and suitcases next door. The man immediately started advertising his wares:
“Suitcases, bags, and briefcases!” he cried in his old cracked voice, “Five dollars apiece, best bargain of your life!”
A woman passing by stopped, looked, and sniffed. “Old junk is what you’ve got! There’s so much mildew on that suitcase it will probably fall apart!”
“Go on, lady!” the old man wheeled. “Help an old man out! I’m clearing out my old treasures and I can sure use the money! Things are tight…”
Another man walked past and nudged a briefcase with his foot. “Old man, I wouldn’t even give a dollar for this piece of trash! You’re not going to sell anything!”
Miracles are found where and when we least expect them.
The old man shook his head. “You’re wrong. The right person will come along because this here is a suitcase full of hope,” he said. “Cause it looks like a suitcase to you, but I promise you, it’s a dream come true!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Martin smiled. He turned to the man and said, “I could use a lot of hope right about now! How much for the dream come true?”
“Young man,” the old man said smiling happily. “This here marvel is 100% genuine leather, made in the 1930s, and it can be yours for only $5!”
Smiling, Martin fished in his pocket for his single $5 note and handed it to the man. “Here you go,” he said.
The man was smiling hugely, and he grabbed Martin’s hand. “You’re a kind boy,” he said. “And you deserve what you’re getting!”
Martin laughed, picked up the old suitcase which was a lot heavier than he’d imagined, and waved a regretful goodbye to the music man. “Next time!” he promised and headed home for lunch.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
When he arrived home, his mother complained about the suitcase right away. “Martin! Did you have to buy junk? We have enough of that! Put it in the garage or it will fill the house with dust!”
Martin obediently carried the suitcase into the garage. He was about to place it on top of an old table when he once again noticed how heavy it was. He opened the suitcase and was surprised to see that it was filled with packages wrapped in newspaper.
Curious, he ripped the newspaper and found a wad of $20 bills! Quickly Martin unwrapped the other packages. It was all money! Thousands of dollars, hundreds of thousands of dollars!
Martin screamed for his mother and she came running. She was speechless at the sight of the piles of money. She didn’t complain about the dust…

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
That night, Martin and his mom counted and recounted the money. There was $300,000! “There’s enough for the medical bills, and the medication…” said Martin.
“Oh, and for college,” said Martin’s mom. “And maybe then we pay off the mortgage…”
“But mom,” Martin said softly. “It’s not our money. The man sold me this suitcase for five dollars and he looked very poor. I’m sure he didn’t know about the money.”
Mrs. Farmer carefully put all the money back in the old suitcase. “In that case, you have to find him, Martin,” she said. “And give it all back to him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Over the next three weeks, Martin haunted the street markets and flea markets looking for the old man, but he was nowhere to be found. Then one day he saw him at a bus stop, carrying another old suitcase.
“Wait!” Martin cried. “Listen, do you remember me? You sold me an old suitcase? I have to give it back to you!”
“Give it back?” asked the old man. “I don’t want it back!”
“Please, you don’t understand,” Martin said. “The suitcase was full of money, your money!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The old man started laughing. “I know THAT!” he said. “Do you remember what I told you? The suitcase was full of hope and dreams come true. That’s what it’s for. Use it well.”
The old man turned and started to walk away, but Martin ran after him. “But I thought you were poor!”
The man smiled. “No, son. I’m a man who spent his entire life making money and now I find I have more than anyone should have. So I give it to those who are kind enough to help those in need. And that’s you!”
Martin went home and told his mother the old man’s story. They decided to use the money to help her get well and to pay for his college, and from that day on, they included the Suitcase Man in their prayers.
What can we learn from this story?
- Miracles are found where and when we least expect them. Martin and his mother were at the end of their rope when they found the money in the suitcase.
- Acts of kindness are always rewarded. Martin spent his precious $5 to help a man he thought was poorer than he was and received a gift that made his dreams come true.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young waitress who gave an old homeless man free meals after she recognizes his old broken-down western boots.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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