My Downstairs Neighbor Asked Me to Be Quieter at Night, but I Have Not Been Home for the past Week

When Piper returns from a trip with her friends, she cannot wait to get home to her husband. But as she unpacks her car, a neighbor approaches her, complaining about the noise from her apartment. If Piper wasn’t home, who was Matthew entertaining in her absence?

I had just returned from a blissful week-long camping trip with my friends. It was all about us taking time away from our lives and enjoying being away from the city.

My husband, Matthew, had stayed behind, claiming that he needed to stay at home.

“I have to be home, Piper,” he said when I was packing my bags. “It’s just work responsibilities. There are meetings and presentations coming up.”

“Are you sure?” I asked him. “Why don’t you come along, and then we can find you a place to work in between it all?”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “You go and join the others and have fun. You need some time away from this place.”

He continued to persuade me to go on the trip, and eventually, I gave in.

“If you’re sure, then it’s settled. I’ll go,” I said. “But I’ll meal prep your food for you before I go.”

Two weeks later, I was back home, feeling rejuvenated and happy to be back with my husband.

“I missed you,” I said when I walked into the house.

Matthew was cooking for us, music was playing in the background, and I felt grateful that I could come home to him.

“I’m just going to unpack the car,” I said. “But dinner smells great!”

I went outside and began to unpack my things when our downstairs neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, approached me by the car. Her stern expression made me pause everything.

“Is everything okay?” I asked her, ready to jump at whatever she needed.

“No, Piper,” she said, crossing her arms. “I know that you and your husband are a young couple and stay up until the late hours. But could you try and keep it quiet at night? At least from about nine-thirty. For the past week, I could barely sleep.”

I blinked, taken aback.

“What? Mrs. Peterson, I haven’t been home all week. Are you sure that it was coming from our place?”

The old woman frowned, and I could tell that she was trying to see if I was joking or not.

“Well, someone was making a lot of noise, Piper,” she said. “It sounded like a party every single night.”

I wasn’t sure what I was listening to. I knew that Matthew was a good guy, but we were on the top floor, and there wasn’t anyone living above us.

Was there a possibility that I didn’t know my husband as well as I thought?

I apologized profusely, my mind racing. As soon as she walked away, I rushed upstairs to confront Matthew. I needed to know what Mrs. Peterson was talking about.

If he had been entertaining people, then that was one thing, and it was okay.

But what if he was having an affair?

“Stop it,” I muttered to myself as I stood in the elevator.

I found my husband lounging on the couch, watching TV.

“Matt, we need to talk,” I said, my voice giving me away.

He looked at me, picked up the remote, and switched the TV off.

“What’s wrong, Piper?”

“Mrs. Peterson just complained about noise coming from our apartment every night last week. I wasn’t here, Matthew. What the hell is going on, and who were you making so much noise with?”

My husband’s face paled, and he buried his face in his hands. My heart sank.

There was something about the resignation of his body that made me think that he was guilty. But guilty of what?

Was he simply guilty of having friends over? Or an affair?

“Please, just tell me the truth,” I pleaded, sitting down on the couch across from him.

“I’m not having an affair,” he muttered, barely audible. “And I know that’s what you’re thinking. But I was just ashamed to tell you the truth.”

“What truth? What do you mean? What’s going on?” I asked, the questions hurling themselves at Matthew.

My husband took a deep breath and looked up, his eyes filled with something that I couldn’t understand.

“I lost my job a few months ago, Piper. I didn’t know how to tell you. But I’ve been desperate to make money so that you wouldn’t notice the shortfall. While you were gone, I rented out our apartment to make some money. I stayed at Trent’s place while the apartment was rented out.”

I sighed, the relief and confusion dissipating from my body.

“So, the noise was from the people who rented out the place?” I asked, needing to hear it from him.

He nodded.

“I’m sorry, love,” Matthew said. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to worry. And I didn’t want you to miss the trip just because of me. I also had an interview during the first week, and I wasn’t about to reschedule it.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Matt?” I asked. “We could have figured something out together.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I was just scared about letting you down.”

“We’re a team, Matthew,” I said. “You don’t have to face things like these alone. We can deal with this together. That’s what marriage is about.”

My husband smiled and pulled me toward him.

“I understand that now,” he said.

We sat in silence for a while, both trying to figure out the next move. I knew that he would have been trying to find another job, and I didn’t want to ask him a million questions about it.

He would tell me when something came up.

“Come,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

We sat down at the table, and Matthew asked me about the trip.

“Tell me everything,” he said. “Did Liam get drunk and do something stupid?”

“Of course he did!” I laughed as Matthew poured me a glass of wine. “He tried moonshine from some other campers and ended up streaking, running through tents.”

“I bet Sasha wasn’t impressed,” Matthew laughed. “That couple is always disagreeing.”

As we did the dishes together that evening, Matthew sighed and leaned against the counter.

“Thank you for understanding,” he said. “Thank you for not thinking that I was covering up an affair.”

I smiled at my husband, ashamed that I entertained the thought of him having another woman in our home.

“But did you make sure to change the bedding?” I asked him. “I’m not about to sleep in a bed that other people have been in.”

Matthew laughed loudly.

“Our bedroom was locked, darling,” he said. “They only used the guest room.”

Over the next few days, we talked about everything. We spoke about the loss of his job, the financial strain, and our plan moving forward.

“I’m actively looking, Piper,” he said over coffee and toast the next morning. “I’ve set up alerts for job positions that I would fit into. And I’ve cut down on any other unnecessary expenses. This isn’t going to be for long. I can promise you that.”

As for Mrs. Peterson, I went downstairs to her apartment, ready to explain everything.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know about everything Matthew was going through. And he ended up letting our apartment out as an Airbnb for the week, just to make some money off it.”

“Oh, honey,” she said, her eyes softening as she put the kettle on. “It’s okay! I understand it now. I just thought that you two were taking advantage of the situation. But I get it now.”

“Thank you for understanding,” I said. “We just need a minute to get back on our feet.”

Mrs. Peterson faffed around the kitchen, making us some tea.

“Look, Piper,” she said, giving me a plate of biscuits. “I’m here and willing to help you out if you ever need the help.”

It turned out that in her youth, Mrs. Peterson had been through tough times herself and knew how hard it could be to ask for help.

What would you have done?

An Elderly Woman Is Turned Away from Business Class until a Little Boy’s Photo Slips Out of Her Purse

A poor old woman decided to fly business class to get closer to her son. However, she faced rejection from passengers on board until they discovered her true identity.

Rhea felt self-conscious. The old woman had gotten on the first plane to leave the airport that morning, and she sat in a seat in business class where the well-to-do folks stayed.

As she entered the cabin, nobody spared her a glance, but when she located her seat and sat, eyes turned towards her. The reason was simple; she stood out like a sore thumb.

Where the other men and women present all wore fancy and expensive-looking clothes, Rhea wore her old, broken-in clothes — it was her best, but it looked drab compared to what the others were wearing.

The man next to her had his face completely buried in a newspaper when she sat down, so he did not quickly notice her. When he put down the issue, he looked to his side and winced at her appearance, then he signaled a flight attendant.

“What is this?” he asked, pointing to Rhea.

The flight attendant looked a bit mortified at the man’s tone, but after verifying the woman’s seat number, she faced the man and replied, “This passenger took a seat according to the ticket she paid for.”

The man looked like he would vomit at any minute because of Rhea’s presence, and before he even proceeded to talk, he unfolded a pristine handkerchief and used it to cover his nose. Then he said, “I don’t know what’s on her ticket, but I bought a seat in business class to get away from people like her, now it just feels like I’m in a cheap alley with homeless people.”

The altercation had gotten the attention of many in the cabin, and some seemed to be in support of the man. One plump woman bedecked from her head to her feet in jewelry piped up.

“If I wanted to fly with such riff-raff, I would buy an economy class ticket,” she said, and a murmur of agreement moved through the passengers.

The murmur quickly took on a life of its own and soon led to a squabble the attendant tried to quell, but the rich folks would not hear of it — the woman had to go.

“Can’t you see she doesn’t belong here?” one man said.

“Is this how low this airline has fallen? How can such a person afford the bill?” another asked.

“We want her gone and we want a formal apology for allowing us to come into contact with such filth,” the man beside Rhea said.

He and a few other passengers were on their feet and refused to sit until they got what they wanted. Rhea sat there, listening to them arguing and trampling all over her dignity.

“I’m okay, this too shall pass,” she kept repeating under her breath like a mantra.

Still, she heard how they spoke of her, and it hurt her very deeply that people could be so cruel. Before she knew it, sad tears cascaded down her slightly wrinkled cheeks.

“Perhaps I’ll just leave,” Rhea thought, then started to gather her things with shaky hands.

As she stood up to go, she stumbled, and rather than catch her as instinct should have made him, the man beside her flinched away as if to avoid getting splattered with mud.

Rhea fell to her knees and inadvertently spilled the contents of her purse. She started to collect her things with trembling hands, knowing she was the focus of everyone in the cabin.

An expensively dressed old lady who had been sleeping peacefully until the ruckus woke her got up from her seat and also went down on her knees to help Rhea.

At that, the cabin went silent, and the passengers stared dumbfounded as one of them treated Rhea like a human. The first thing the woman picked up was a passport photograph of a little boy.

“Thank you very much,” Rhea whispered as she collected it from her.

“This is my son,” she said with a teary smile, still on her knees. “He is the pilot of this plane.”

“He must have grown up to become a handsome young man,” the rich old woman said.

“How could I know? I had to give him up for adoption when he was just five because I had no means to take care of him.” As she spoke, tears fell from her eyes, and the cabin remained silent.

“I’ve been looking for him for years but I’ve not been able to find him. Recently, I found out he became a pilot so I started to go from airport to airport looking for him. Today I found him but the only way I could get close to him was by boarding this flight.”

Rhea looked up at the people around, most of whom averted their eyes shamefully, then she continued.

“I’m sorry for making you all feel uncomfortable but I just wanted to be as close to my son as possible which is why I saved up my money to get this chance. The business class is closer to him and I’ve never flown before so I thought it would make a great birthday gift for myself.”

The passengers listened to her story, and by the time she stopped talking, many were crying. Rhea got up eventually and went with the flight attendants, who were hell-bent on introducing her to her son.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” she asked, resisting their urging. “What if he hates me for abandoning him?” Before the flight attendant could speak, the man who had been against her sitting beside him beat her to it.

“You had no choice, I believe he will understand that,” he said before quickly diving behind his newspaper again. He was also ashamed. Rhea left with the flight attendant to finally meet her son.

After some time, a man’s voice was heard on the plane. “This is the captain speaking… there is a special person flying on this plane — my mom, and it’s her birthday today.”

Everyone applauded the old lady, and those who had ridiculed her before apologized for their mistake. When the plane landed, the pilot, whose name was Joseph, met up with his mother, and finally, after many years of estrangement, Rhea held her son again.

What did we learn from this story?

Choose to be kind. When the man beside Rhea started to clamor for her to leave the cabin, others joined in, and even though the woman had done nothing, they may have succeeded in making her leave. The only person who did not do what they did was another old woman. She stood up for Rhea even though she could easily have just joined the haughty passengers, and her decision changed everything.
Never give up. Rhea looked for her son for years but could not locate him; however, that did not stop her. She kept looking, and she was ready to do anything to meet him, including saving up her hard-earned money for an expensive business class flight. Her perseverance and sacrifices were rewarded in the end, and she was able to meet him.
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