After returning home from a month-long vacation, a woman wakes up the next morning to discover a stranger sleeping on her couch

“But when will I get to see grandchildren? You’re too focused on your career, and I’m worried you’ll never settle down. Don’t you want a family someday?”

Megan sighed, gripping the wheel a little tighter as she tried to keep calm. She loved her mother, but this conversation was becoming all too familiar.

“Mom, I really can’t talk about this right now,” she said, faking a crackle in her voice. “The signal’s bad. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Before Dina could continue, Megan quickly ended the call, feigning static noises to make it seem like the connection had failed.

She glanced down at the phone and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Pulling into her driveway, Megan parked the car and stared at her house for a moment.

She felt drained, both from the conversation with her mother and from the past few weeks.

What was supposed to be a restful vacation had turned into yet another working trip, with her phone constantly buzzing with problems at work.

For the entire month, she hadn’t been able to fully unplug. She didn’t even know what “rest” meant anymore.

After grabbing her bags from the trunk, Megan walked inside her dimly lit house, too tired to bother turning on all the lights.

She set her bags down by the door and paused for a moment. Something felt off. Glancing around, she noticed that one of the windows on the first floor was slightly open.

Puzzled, she tried to remember if she had left it like that before leaving for her trip. She shrugged it off, assuming she had simply forgotten to close it. It had been a busy month, after all.

Megan shut the window, turned off the last light on the first floor, and headed upstairs.

She barely had the energy to change into her pajamas. She kicked off her shoes, not even bothering to check if everything was in order.

Without thinking, she collapsed into her bed, letting her head sink into the pillow.

The familiar comfort of her bed was a relief, and within moments, Megan was fast asleep, her mind already letting go of the chaos of the day.

Little did she know that tomorrow would bring an unexpected surprise—one she never could have anticipated.

The next morning, Megan was jolted awake by the buzzing of her phone. Half-asleep, she groaned as she answered it, recognizing the overly enthusiastic voice of her assistant, Lisa.

Lisa’s high-pitched chatter filled her ears, rattling off a long list of meetings and tasks for the day at a speed that made Megan’s head spin.

“Lisa, please… slow down,” Megan mumbled, trying to focus as she stumbled out of bed. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder while getting dressed, lazily brushing her teeth, and starting her coffee machine.

The warmth of the coffee was barely hitting her system when something made her stop mid-sip—loud snoring coming from the living room.

Her body tensed as her brain struggled to process what she was hearing. Who is in my house?

“Lisa, I’ll have to call you back,” she said abruptly, hanging up the phone before Lisa could respond. Heart racing, Megan cautiously walked toward the living room, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Peeking inside, she couldn’t believe her eyes. A man—fully dressed with boots still on—was sprawled across her couch, snoring loudly.

Dirty footprints trailed from the window she had closed the night before to where the man now lay. Megan’s mind raced with questions. Who is this guy? How did he get in?

Her eyes narrowed, and without thinking twice, she darted to the kitchen, grabbing the nearest weapon she could find: a broom.

She marched back to the living room and jabbed the man with the handle.

He stirred, groggy and confused, blinking as he rubbed his eyes.

“Who are you?” Megan demanded, doing her best to keep her voice steady despite the panic rising in her chest.

The man, still half-asleep, sat up slowly. “Uh… I’m George,” he muttered, his words slurring together. “How did I get here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing!” Megan snapped, frustration mixing with confusion. “Why are you on my couch?”

George blinked, clearly disoriented, as he looked around. “I don’t remember much… I was out with some friends, and then… nothing. I guess I drank too much.”

Megan sniffed the air and immediately recognized the stale scent of alcohol. It didn’t take long to piece together what had happened—George had been blackout drunk and somehow ended up in her house.

Her anger started to fade, replaced with a mix of disbelief and reluctant sympathy.

“Well, you’re lucky I didn’t call the police,” she said, setting down the broom. “Take these.”

She handed him a bottle of aspirin and watched as he gratefully swallowed a couple of pills.

“I need to leave for work, but this time make sure you use the door when you go. Not the window.”

George, still looking sheepish, nodded. “Thank you… and I’m really sorry.”

Megan sighed. “Just… don’t make a habit of it.” With that, she grabbed her things and headed out the door, leaving George to process his own mess.

That evening, Megan drove home after a long, exhausting day at work. Her eyes felt heavy, her body sore from sitting in meetings and staring at screens for hours. Her stomach growled in protest, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything substantial all day.

There hadn’t been a single free moment to stop for groceries, and she sighed at the thought of coming home to an empty fridge.

As Megan walked into the house, she froze. The familiar smell of her dim living room was replaced by something unexpected—the soft glow of candles flickered around the room, casting a warm, inviting light.

The dining table, which she had left bare that morning, was now set with plates, silverware, and an array of delicious-smelling dishes.

At the center of it all stood George, looking slightly awkward and sheepish but also determined. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he saw her expression.

“What is this?” Megan asked, her voice a mixture of shock and confusion.

George shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“I… I felt really bad about what happened this morning,” he explained, his voice soft. “So I cleaned up the mess I made, and I wanted to cook you dinner. You know, to make it up to you.”

Megan blinked, still processing the scene before her. She had expected to come home, collapse onto the couch, and figure out how to deal with her hunger.

Instead, she found this—a stranger who had passed out on her couch that morning, now standing in her living room with an entire meal prepared.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, still a bit in disbelief.

“I know,” George replied, “but I wanted to. It’s the least I could do after… well, everything.” He offered a small, apologetic smile.

George began to gather his things, ready to leave and give her space, but Megan stopped him.

“Wait,” she said softly, not wanting him to rush off just yet.”

You’ve already gone through all this trouble to make such a nice dinner. Stay and have it with me. I can’t eat all of this by myself, anyway.”

George hesitated, his uncertainty clear.

“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Megan smiled warmly, her exhaustion from the day fading just a little. “Yes, I’m sure. Besides, it would be nice to have some company.”

They both sat down at the table, and as the scent of the warm food filled the air, Megan couldn’t help but feel a surprising sense of calm.

The hectic day seemed to slip away, replaced by an evening of unexpected comfort.

They sat down at the table, the soft glow of the candles creating a peaceful atmosphere. As they began to eat, the earlier tension seemed to melt away with each bite.

George, now more comfortable, started telling Megan about his wild night out with friends. He laughed as he explained how too much fun and a little too much to drink had led him to her couch, of all places.

“I honestly didn’t even realize I wasn’t home until I woke up this morning,” George chuckled, shaking his head.

“And when I saw you standing there with a broom, I thought I was in serious trouble.”

Megan couldn’t help but laugh along, her earlier frustration fading with each word.

The stress she had carried home after a long day at work seemed to vanish, replaced by the simple joy of sharing a meal and a conversation with someone who made her laugh. It felt like a break from the routine, like a breath of fresh air.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Megan felt completely relaxed. George was easy to talk to, and the conversation flowed naturally. They joked, swapped stories, and enjoyed the food he had so thoughtfully prepared.

During an Argument on the Road, My Husband Threw Me Out of the Car 30 Miles from Home

Scarlett’s weekend escape turned into a nightmare when her husband’s jealously got out of hand and she ended up stranded thirty miles from home. She had no idea that karma would provide an unexpected turn of events that would reverse the situation and give her a sense of fairness again. I’m Scarlett. Hi. I recently got back from what was meant to be a fantastic weekend getaway with my husband, Sheldon. Our marriage had lasted for a decade. I get along well with you most of the time.

But tensions do arise occasionally. Things took a bad turn this past weekend. After spending two days in a quaint little town, we were on our way back. The sun was bright and we had been to several beautiful locations. We had pleasure in boat rides, lovely parks, and cozy cafés. It seemed like the ideal diversion from our hectic life. Sheldon was content, and I was relieved to see him unwind once. Everything was great till the very last day. We went to a little eatery for lunch. Sheldon thought our waiter was a little too chatty. He was certainly pleasant enough. He began teasing the waiter about how attentive he was. I dismissed it with a laugh, but Sheldon became upset. What piqued his interest in you so much? We walked to the car and Sheldon inquired. Trying to keep the conversation light, I answered, “I think he was just doing his job.” Sheldon remained silent as we climbed into the vehicle. At first, the drive home was calm. I tried to savor the remaining moments of our journey as I gazed out the window. However, I could sense Sheldon’s resentment building up next to me. They were on the road for almost an hour when Sheldon finally spoke. He spoke in a frigid tone. “I observed your gaze on him.” With a sigh, I had a knot in my gut. “Sheldon, I wasn’t giving him any particular attention.” He tightened his hold on the steering wheel. “If I hadn’t been here, I doubt you would have refrained from flirting!” That remark hurt. I looked up at him. “You can’t really say that? I’d never be unfaithful to you! He snapped back, “Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it.” My heart was racing. “You’re acting absurdly.

He was just going about his work as a waiter. The dispute swiftly became more heated. In minutes, we went from a tight stillness to yelling. Sheldon’s words wounded more than they had before. Even though his envy was unjustified, he wouldn’t let it go.”You have no idea how it feels,” Sheldon said, raising his voice. “Observing you grin at a different man.” “This is unbelievable,” I murmured while shaking my head. Sheldon, you have my affection. You can’t trust me, why? My heart leaped as he abruptly stopped the automobile. “Leave,” he uttered with clenched teeth. Startled, I questioned, “What?” “Go outside and stroll back home!” he said again, his eyes flaming.

His serious expression conveyed that he wasn’t kidding, even though I couldn’t believe he was serious. With tears hurting my eyes, I opened the door. I slammed the door behind me and muttered, “Fine.” I watched from the side of the road as Sheldon drove off, leaving me by myself. I started to move, a mixture of anguish and rage in me. I was baffled as to how our idyllic weekend had devolved into this nightmare. I had problems with Sheldon, but nothing like this I had ever anticipated.I took to the roadside and began to stroll. The air was growing chilly as the sun descended. Not only was I cold, but I was also shocked by what had transpired. I held out my thumb in the hopes that someone would see me and offer to help. Vehicles zoomed by, their drivers giving me curious or disinterested looks. My thoughts raced, repeatedly playing out the disagreement that I had with Sheldon. He had no idea that I would ever be unfaithful to him. Although his jealousy had never been good, this instance it had taken a toll. After what seemed like an endless amount of time, a car eventually slowed down and stopped over. The man behind the wheel, a kindly-looking middle-aged man, rolled down the window. Need a lift, he enquired. With a wave of relief, I said, “Yes, please.” “Many thanks for that.” Feeling relieved to be off my feet and out of the cold, I got into the car. The chauffeur beamed at me. “My name is Tom,” he introduced himself. “Where are you going?”Home,” I answered. “This is around thirty miles away.” Tom nodded and got behind the wheel. “You know, it was a rough day?” I sighed and added, “You have no idea.” “After a heated argument, my spouse abandoned me by the side of the road.” Tom gave me a pitying glance.

“I regret learning that. Would you like to discuss it? I told Tom about the weekend, the waiter, and the out-of-control dispute as we drove. Speaking with someone and getting everything off my chest felt fantastic. Tom carefully listened, occasionally nodding. When I was done, he responded, “Sounds like your husband has some serious trust issues.” Yes, I replied. “I just don’t get why he doesn’t think I’m trustworthy.” For a while, we drove in quiet as I glanced out the window, thinking back on all that had transpired.

Sheldon was the love of my life, but his jealousy was breaking us. If he didn’t think I was trustworthy, how could we go forward? Abruptly, I noticed a recognizable vehicle off to the side of the road. A beat skipped in my heart. Behind the car, which belonged to Sheldon, were flashing police lights. “Tom, that’s my husband’s car,” I said. Could you please stop? Tom gave a nod, reduced his speed, and parked behind the squad car. Stepping out, I made my way over to Sheldon, who was chatting with a policeman. When he saw me, he appeared taken aback and slightly ashamed. “What’s happening?” I walked up and asked. The policeman turned to face me. “Ma’am, is this your husband?” Yes, I answered. “What took place?” The officer said, “He was pulled over for speeding and reckless driving.” “We may have to suspend his license and tow his car because this is his third offense.” Sheldon turned to face me, a mixture of desperation and rage. “Please, Scarlett, could you assist me?” I inhaled deeply, attempting to control my feelings. “Officer, may I take the car home?” I asked. My license is still in effect. The officer gave me a long look before nodding. “All right. We won’t need to tow it if you drive. He is still receiving a ticket, though. Taking the keys from Sheldon, I felt vindicated and empowered.

I was the one saving him now that this was his disaster. Upon taking the wheel, I couldn’t help but experience a wave of fulfillment. Sheldon sat dejectedly on the side of the road. He murmured, “Thank you,” as I turned on the ignition. I remained silent. Rather, I concentrated on the path ahead, experiencing a sense of both relief and accomplishment. Now I was in charge. Sheldon had to realize there were repercussions for what he did. I had a strange sense of finality as I drove away, leaving Sheldon to deal with the police. While it wasn’t the solution to our issues, this was a start in the right direction for me to regain my power and independence. I would be there for Sheldon as he faced his own problems, but only if he could learn to trust me. I was happy to drive home for the time being, knowing that karma had truly had the last laugh.

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