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З життя4 години ago

A Life Back in Order – “Lada, I Forbid You From Speaking to Your Sister and Her Family!” My Husband Gave Me an Ultimatum, Enraged at My Bond With My Sister Natasha, While His Own Drinking and Cheating Tore Our Marriage Apart – But When a Stranger Turned Up With His Secret Son, I Finally Found The Strength To Break Free and Discover True Happiness with Kind-Hearted Dr. Herman Lewis

LIFE, SORTED Lydia, Im forbidding you from seeing your sister and her family again! They’ve got their life, weve got...

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З життя4 години ago

Bitterness at the Bottom of My Soul “The children’s home has been waiting for you for ages! Get out of our family!” I screamed with a trembling voice. The target of my wild indignation was my cousin, Dima. God, how I loved him as a child! Blond hair, bright blue eyes, cheerful nature — that was Dima. …Relatives often gathered around the festive table. Of all my cousins, I singled out Dima. He could spin tales with his tongue like a lace maker and he drew brilliantly. Sometimes he would churn out five or six sketches an evening. I would stare, entranced by their beauty, quietly gathering his drawings and hiding them in my desk. I carefully treasured my cousin’s artwork. Dima was two years older than me. When he turned 14, his mother died—gone so suddenly, she just didn’t wake up… The question arose—what would happen to Dima? Naturally, they first turned to his father, but finding him was no easy feat. He and Dima’s mother were long divorced, and the new family “couldn’t be disturbed.” The rest of the relatives just shrugged: “We have our own families, our own problems.” Turns out, during the day, family is there, but come nightfall, not a soul to be found. So, with two kids of their own, my parents became Dima’s guardians—after all, Dima’s late mother was my dad’s younger sister. At first, I was happy that Dima would be living with us. But then… On his very first day in our home, Dima’s behavior set me on edge. To comfort her orphaned nephew, my mum asked, “Is there anything you’d like, Dima? Don’t be shy, just say.” And Dima immediately replied, “A model train set.” Now, this wasn’t a cheap toy. I was shocked—your mum just died, the most important person in your life, and all you want is a train set? How could you even think of that? But my parents immediately bought him his dream. Then it was, “Buy me a tape player, jeans, a designer jacket…” This was the eighties, mind you, and not only was this stuff pricey, but it was impossible to get. My parents made sacrifices for the orphan, even at our own expense. My brother and I understood and didn’t complain. …When Dima turned sixteen, he discovered girls. And he wasn’t afraid to show his affection. Worse yet, he started making advances toward me—his own cousin. But as a sporty girl, I skillfully dodged his unwelcome attention. We’d even come to blows. I would cry and cry. I never told my parents—they didn’t need the heartache. Kids don’t talk about such things. After I fended him off, Dima wasted no time turning to my friends, who actually competed for his attention. …But Dima was also a shameless thief. I remember my piggy bank: saving on school lunches to buy presents for my parents, only to find it empty one day! Dima denied everything—didn’t bat an eye, didn’t blush, just outright lied. It broke my heart. How could he steal while living under our roof? He was wrecking our family from within, but Dima really didn’t understand why I was upset. He truly believed everyone owed him. I began to hate him. That’s when I finally screamed at him: “Get out of our family!” I lashed him with my words—said things that can never be taken back… My mum barely managed to calm me. From that day on, Dima ceased to exist for me. I ignored him completely. Later, I learned the other relatives knew what a “character” Dima was—they lived nearby and seen it all. Our family lived across town. Even Dima’s former teachers warned my parents: “You’re making a big mistake. Dima will ruin your other children too.” …At a new school, he met Katy—she loved Dima all her life. She married him straight out of school. They had a daughter, and Katy put up with his lies and cheating without protest. As they say: single life is hardship, married life is double. Dima joined the Army, stationed in Scotland. There, he started another family—he somehow managed it during leave. When his service ended, he stayed in Scotland. He had a son there. Katy, not hesitating, went after him and, by hook or by crook, brought him back home. My parents never received a word of thanks from cousin Dima—not that they expected it. Now, fifty years on, Dmitri is an active member of the local Anglican church. He and Katy have five grandchildren. On the surface, all seems well, but the bitterness of life with Dima remains… No amount of sugar could ever sweeten it.
З життя5 години ago

Bittersweet Happiness – “What’s wrong with that young lady? She’s a good girl. Modest, neat, a hardworking student. She loves you,” Helen Edwards chastised her son. “Mum, I’ll handle it…” Denis clearly ended the pointless conversation. Helen left the room. “He’ll handle it… How many girls has he turned away… Nearly forty, and soon no one will do. Nothing’s ever right for him…” she thought with a heavy sigh. “Son, dinner’s ready,” Helen called from the kitchen. Denis responded instantly, tucking into his mother’s homemade stew. “Thank you, Mum. Delicious, as always.” “You should be saying that to your wife, not me,” Helen couldn’t let it go. “Mum…” Denis drank his compote and prepared to leave. “Wait, son. Do you know, I once visited a fortune-teller? She took one look at me and said: ‘Your son will have happiness, but it will be bittersweet.’” “Oh, Mum, don’t believe such things,” Denis grinned. …Through the years, different women—some loved, some not—came and went in Denis’s life. …Inna was smart, cultured, shockingly wise for her age. She often gave sound advice to the nine-years-older Denis. At first he liked this, but then he began to see Inna more as a mentor than anything else. Everything felt colourless. They split up. Polly had an eight-year-old son. Try as he might, Denis couldn’t get through to the boy, though he loved Polly. She was beautiful, but too headstrong. Whenever they quarrelled, he’d try to patch things up with gifts. The arguments felt senseless. Something was always missing—maybe peace and stability. Vera was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. Denis almost married her. She was decent, pure, balanced—he felt like he had to “wear kid gloves” just to speak to her. He even moved into her flat. He was ready to start a family. But… He came home unexpectedly from a work trip to find Vera in bed with her old school friend. Classic… After that, Denis moved back in with his mum. Enough romance, he decided. “I’ll be a bachelor—a solid family of one,” he joked to his mum. Helen would shrug and sigh: “Will you ever find your one, son?” But fate had its own plan. Suddenly, unexpectedly. Denis was travelling for work, claimed his usual bottom bunk in the train carriage. A woman entered: “Excuse me, would you mind swapping? Can I have your lower bunk? Please.” “No trouble,” Denis replied. He looked her over—nothing remarkable. Yet his heart skipped. “Maybe she’s the one…” He clambered onto the top bunk and dozed off… “Glad you’re awake! Come, have some tea,” the stranger cooed. Denis climbed down and they started talking. “Larissa,” she introduced herself. “Denis. Nice to meet you, Larissa.” They talked throughout the evening. Denis felt instantly at ease. He didn’t try to impress her; everything just flowed, as if he’d known her forever. They exchanged numbers, just in case… A couple of weeks later, he couldn’t resist calling her. One thing led to another… Dates, kisses, promises… Denis couldn’t imagine his life without Larissa. At forty years old! He’d always let previous girlfriends go easily—but not this one… He wanted to lose himself entirely in her life. Larissa surrounded Denis with love, care, and understanding. Three months in, he offered his heart and hand. “Denis, I’m seven years older than you. I have three children. We live in a council flat,” Larissa admitted. She never lied. “I know, Lara. I’ve met your kids—you’ll all move in with me. It’s sorted. I love every inch of you. You’re my last and only,” said Denis, kissing her tenderly. “All right, Denis, let’s give it a try,” murmured a shy Larissa. “No, not try, Lara. We’ll be together. For good,” Denis squeezed her hand. “Do you hear me? Forever.” When Helen learned his plans, all she could say was: “You’ve really outdone yourself this time… The plainest girl of them all…” …Nine months later, their daughter was born—a child with Down’s syndrome. Denis felt both joy and worry for Larissa. Would she cope? Having a child with special needs is never easy. …Today, Denis and Larissa’s daughter is eight. The whole family adores her. Denis worships Larissa. Bittersweet, but happiness…
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З життя7 години ago

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З життя7 години ago

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З життя8 години ago

He Hated His Wife. Hated Her… They Spent 15 Years Together—Every Morning He Saw Her Face, But Only in the Last Year Did Her Habits Begin to Grate on Him, Especially the Way She Stretched Out Her Arms in Bed and Sleepily Said, “Good Morning, Sunshine! It’s Going to Be a Wonderful Day.” At First He’d Loved Her Body, Her Freedom, Her Morning Rituals—Now Even Her Nakedness Filled Him with Anger. She Knew of His Three-Year Affair, But Time Had Healed Her Wounded Pride and Left Only a Sad Sense of Uselessness. Secretly, She Struggled with a Terminal Illness, Finding Solace in a Quiet Village Library. When He Finally Decided to Leave Her for His Lover, He Discovered a Hidden Folder with Her Medical Records—The Diagnosis Gave Her 6–18 Months to Live, and Six Months Had Already Passed. At a Restaurant Where They Once Celebrated Their Anniversary, She Waited for Him in the Autumn Sunshine, Tears Flowing as She Realized Her Life Was Slipping Away Unnoticed. In the End, He Cared for Her Every Moment Until She Passed, Realizing Too Late the Depth of His Loss; Under Her Pillow He Found Her New Year’s Wish: “To Be Happy with Him Until the End of My Days.” That Same Year, He’d Wished for Freedom—And in the End, Each Received Exactly What They’d Requested…

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З життя8 години ago

Bitterness at the Bottom of My Soul “You belong in a care home, and you know it! Get out of our family!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, my voice breaking with emotion. The target of my outrage was my cousin, Dima. Lord, I loved him so much as a child—his golden hair, cornflower-blue eyes, cheerful nature. That was Dima all over. Family gatherings would often bring us all together around the table, but out of all my cousins, it was always Dima who stood out. With his silver tongue, he could weave tales like intricate lace, and he was a gifted artist. By the end of any evening, he’d have sketched five or six pencil drawings with ease. I would marvel at his work, unable to tear myself away from its beauty, and quietly stash his drawings in my desk for safekeeping, cherishing his creativity. Dima was two years older than me. When he was fourteen, his mother died suddenly and unexpectedly—she simply never woke up. Everyone wondered what would become of Dima. They looked first to his biological father, but finding him was not easy—his parents had long been divorced, and his father had another family and wasn’t about to disrupt his “peaceful life.” Then the rest of the relatives collectively shrugged—each had their own families and worries. Suddenly, our extended family was nowhere to be found when needed most. So, with two children of their own, my parents agreed to take Dima in—the late woman was my father’s younger sister, after all. At first, I was happy that Dima would be living with us. But… On his very first day in our home, I noticed something odd about my favourite cousin’s behaviour. Trying to bring him some comfort, my mum asked, “Is there anything you’d like, Dima? Don’t be shy, just tell us.” Immediately, Dima answered, “A model railway set.” This toy was quite expensive, and his wish surprised me. I thought—your mum just died, the most important person in your world, and all you can think about is a train set? How could he? Still, my parents bought it for him immediately. But soon Dima’s requests snowballed. “Buy me a tape recorder, jeans, a branded jacket…” This was the 1980s. Not only were these things pricey, but difficult to find. Yet my parents, depriving their own children, tried to fulfil every wish of the orphan. My brother and I endured this in silence, understanding it was for Dima. When Dima turned sixteen, he started chasing after girls. He became infatuated with me—his own cousin. But I, being sporty and quick, dodged his advances, even fighting him off physically at times and ending up in tears. My parents never knew—I didn’t want to upset them. Most kids keep such things to themselves. After I made it clear I wasn’t interested, Dima quickly moved on to my friends, who actually competed for his attention. Dima also stole from us, brazenly and without shame. I remember saving my school lunch money in a piggy bank for a present for my parents—one day, it was empty. Dima swore blind he hadn’t touched it, didn’t so much as blush. My soul was torn to pieces—how could he steal in the very house we shared? Dima shattered our family’s trust, as if nothing mattered to him. I began to hate him. That’s when I screamed, with all my might: “Get out of our family!” I let rip at Dima, said more than fit in a hat—words I can’t take back. My mother barely managed to calm me down. Since then, Dima ceased to exist for me. I avoided him in every way. Later, it turned out the other relatives all knew what “sort” Dima was—they lived nearby and had seen plenty. Only our family, living farther away, had been in the dark. Dima’s former teachers even warned my parents: “You shouldn’t have taken him in. Dima will only ruin your own children.” At a new school, he met Kate, who would fall head-over-heels for Dima and marry him right after graduation. They had a daughter. Kate patiently endured his wild whims, endless lies, and countless betrayals. As the old saying goes: “single and you suffer, married and it’s double.” Dima was later conscripted for military service in Kazakhstan. There, he formed a “second family”—apparently during breaks from service. He fathered a son. After his discharge, Dima stayed in Kazakhstan, but Kate went after him and, by hook or by crook, brought him back to his family. My parents never heard a word of thanks from Dima—not that they expected it. Now, Dmitry Eugene is sixty. He’s a devout parishioner at the local English church, with Kate and five grandchildren. Everything seems fine, but the bitterness from my relationship with Dima still lingers… A taste too bitter, even for honey.

BITTERNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SOUL You should have been in a childrens home ages ago! Get out of...
З життя9 години ago

POSTAGE STAMP… “Ilya’s left Katya,” Mum sighed heavily. “What do you mean?” I didn’t understand. “I don’t get it myself,” Mum said. “He was away on business for a month, came back all changed. Told Katya he loves someone else.” “Did he really say that? Must be some mistake—how awful,” I fumed at Katya’s husband. “Sonia called me—said Katya was unwell, had to call an ambulance. Turned out Katya had some kind of neurological swallowing disorder,” Mum blinked rapidly. “Alright, Mum, calm down. Honestly, Katya shouldn’t have put Ilya on a pedestal like that. She was always dancing attendance on him. Now she’s left picking up the pieces. Poor Katya. I hope Ilya isn’t serious about this new woman—he loves Katya and Sonia,” I refused to believe what I’d heard. …Ilya and Katya’s wild passion, their whirlwind romance—they married after just two months. Their daughter Sonia was born. Life was measured, calm, and then—everything tumbled downhill… Like a Rolling Boulder… I rushed straight to my sister. Some conversations are hardest with those closest to you. “Katya, how could this happen? Did Ilya even explain? Has he lost his mind?” I barraged my sister. “I’m in shock myself, Nina. Who is this woman? Did she cast some sort of spell? Ilya dashed off to her, obsessed. Threw his stuff in a bag, left. Feels like I’ve been dragged across concrete. I don’t understand…” Katya sobbed endlessly. “Let’s wait, Katya. Maybe your runaway will come to his senses. These things happen,” I hugged her. He Didn’t Come Back. Ilya made a new life in another city, and with a new wife. Ksenia was eighteen years Ilya’s senior, but the age gap didn’t prevent their happiness. “Souls don’t have ages,” Ksenia said. Ilya was smitten. Ksenia became his lodestar. She had a tough streak—could be tender, could be ruthless. Ilya adored her. Every time he’d marvel, “Where have you been all my life, Ksenia? I’ve searched half my life for you…” Meanwhile, Katya decided to seek vengeance—all men now fair game. Beautiful, she turned heads everywhere. She had a fling with her boss, entranced him. “Katya, marry me. I’ll make you rich. You’ll be treated like a queen.” “No thanks, Dmitri—I’ve had enough marriages… Let’s go to the seaside instead. I want Sonia to get some fresh air,” Katya winked. “Alright, my dear…” Sasha was simpler—helped around the flat, did her renovations, but never proposed—he was already married. Katya strung both along—no love, just distraction from her misery. She still yearned for Ilya, saw him in dreams, woke up in useless tears. Couldn’t let go of those memories. “How do you un-weld someone from your life? What did I do wrong? I was loyal, caring—never argued…” …Years went by. Katya’s life was split between Dmitri’s tender invites, Sasha’s handyman help. …Sonia was twenty when she decided to visit her father. Bought a train ticket, wondered how to address “the other woman.” Arrived in a new city. …Rang the bell. “You must be Sophia,” an interesting woman opened the door. “Mum is much prettier…” Sonia thought. “Ksenia, right?” Sonia guessed. “Yes, come in. Your dad’s not home but will be soon,” Ksenia led her to the kitchen. “How are you? How’s your mum?” Ksenia fussed, “Tea, coffee?” “Ksenia, how did you manage to steal my dad away? He loved my mum—I know that for sure,” Sonia looked her straight in the eye. “Sophia, life’s unpredictable. Love has no guarantees. Sometimes passion sweeps in and one meeting changes everything. Fate intervenes. Sometimes, you just have to change partners in the dance. It can’t be explained,” Ksenia slumped into a chair. “But can’t you just stop? Think of your duty to family…” Sonia couldn’t grasp Ksenia’s reasoning, glaring at the woman she loathed. “You can’t, child,” Ksenia replied simply. “Thank you for your honesty,” Sonia refused the coffee. “Sophia, want some cheeky advice? A man is like a postage stamp—the more you spit on him, the better he sticks. And in general, you need to be steel one day, velvet the next… By the way, your dad and I had a big row.” “Thanks for the tip. Should I wait for Dad?” Sonia asked anxiously. “I’m not sure. He’s been living in a hotel this week. Here’s the address,” Ksenia scribbled it on a scrap of paper. Sonia was relieved—now she could talk to her dad alone. “Goodbye, thanks for the coffee,” she left quickly. She found the hotel, knocked on his door. Ilya was happy—if a bit embarrassed—to see his daughter. “I was planning on returning today—after the row and all…” “That’s your business, Dad. I just wanted to see you,” Sonia carefully took her father’s hand. “How’s your mum?” Ilya asked. “All’s well. We’ve gotten used to life without you.” They spent a warm evening in the hotel room—talking, laughing, shedding quiet tears. “Dad, do you love Ksenia?” Sonia suddenly asked. “Very much. I’m sorry, darling,” Ilya answered surely. “Got it. I need to run—my train’s soon,” Sonia gathered her things. “Come by, Sonia—we’re family, after all,” Ilya’s eyes dropped. “Of course… see you soon,” Sonia left. …Returning home, she decided to follow Ksenia’s advice: Don’t love, don’t treasure, don’t believe empty men’s words. Brush them off… …But three years later, the right man came along: Kirill. He was made for Sonia, sent by fate… She knew instantly, sensed it… When you meet your true love, nothing else even tempts you… Kirill wrapped his woman in his heart and never let go. He touched her soul in ways unseen. Sonia fell deeply, utterly, without conditions…

THE POSTAGE STAMP Olivers left Emily, Mum sighed heavily. What do you mean? I didnt understand. Im as lost as...
З життя9 години ago

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З життя10 години ago

A Husband Worth More Than Bitter Grudges: My Turbulent Journey from Heartbreak and Hardship to Risking It All for a Second Chance at Love

MY HUSBAND MATTERS MORE THAN BITTER GRIEVANCES James, thats the last straw! Im done, were getting a divorce! Dont bother...