“All men are liars.” With these words, Violet ended her radio program. Her life experiences and the countless stories she heard from her listeners had proven it. But, a date with a coworker made her question her belief. After a call from a stranger, she was convinced she had been right all along.
Violet sat comfortably in her chair, leaning slightly toward the microphone in the cozy, dimly lit studio of a local radio station.
The equipment’s soft hum and the faint buzz of the control board’s lights cast a warm, golden glow across the room.
Opposite her was James, her co-host, his posture more relaxed, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as they listened to the voice crackling through the speakers.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“He’s pulling away from me…” Susan’s voice trembled, and a muffled sob came through.
“I don’t know what to do. We barely talk anymore. I never thought I’d turn to a radio show for advice, but I don’t have anyone else who’ll listen.”
Violet adjusted her headphones, her expression softening.
“Don’t worry, Suzy, right? That’s your name?”
Her voice was calm, like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat, offering comfort through the static.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, it’s Susan,” the caller confirmed, her breath hitching.
“Well, Suzy, that’s why we have this segment—to help people like you with relationship struggles. Thank you for sharing your story. It’s brave of you.”
Susan hesitated before asking, “So… what do you think I should do, Violet?”
Violet straightened in her chair, her tone sharp yet controlled.
“The same thing I always say—forget him. He’s either cheating on you or stringing you along. Either way, you deserve better.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James’s head snapped up, and he raised an eyebrow at her.
“Violet, maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. It could be anything—stress at work, personal issues. Maybe he doesn’t know how to communicate.”
Violet gave him a sidelong glance.
“Or maybe he has a mistress,” she said dryly. “Let’s not sugarcoat it. All men are liars.”
The tension hung for a moment, but Violet quickly turned back to the microphone, her professional smile firmly in place.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks for tuning in, folks. Enjoy the next song.” She flipped the switch, cutting their microphones.
Music filled the studio, and Violet leaned back, the faintest smirk playing on her lips.
James, however, shook his head slightly, unsure whether to push back or let it slide.
The studio lights dimmed slightly as the end-of-shift silence settled over the room.
Violet gathered her things—her notebook, headphones, and an oversized scarf she draped over her shoulder.
She moved with her usual efficiency, but her mind was already on the comfort of home and a hot cup of tea.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James lingered by the console, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
His usual easygoing demeanor seemed absent, replaced by a noticeable nervousness. Finally, he stepped closer, clearing his throat.
“You were ruthless with men today, as usual,” he said, flashing her a sheepish grin. His attempt at humor was met with a raised eyebrow.
Violet paused and glanced at him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been here six months, James,” she replied flatly. “I thought you’d have figured out by now what our audience expects.”
“So, it’s just for ratings, then?” James asked, tilting his head.
“You don’t actually believe all that?”
Violet shrugged, her expression unreadable.
“I never said that. What do you want, James? I was about to head home.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her. “Well, uh… I’ve been meaning to ask…” His words trailed off as his confidence wavered.
“Spit it out,” Violet said, smirking slightly, amused by his awkwardness. “Talking is supposed to be your job.”
He chuckled nervously, his face flushing. “Would you, um… like to go on a date with me?”
“A date?” Violet blinked, caught off guard. “Like a date-date?”
“Yes. Exactly. There’s a great place nearby I think you’d like.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Violet hesitated, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “James, you know I’m not big on dating.”
“Because you think all men are liars, right?” James teased. His tone was light but daring. “Let me prove that not all of us are that bad. Some of us are mostly honest.”
“Mostly?” Violet repeated, laughing despite herself. “Fine. But don’t expect miracles.”
“That’s good enough for me,” James said, his grin widening as he grabbed his coat.
The small restaurant felt like a hidden gem, the kind of place you’d never stumble upon unless someone showed you.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Candlelight flickered on every table, casting warm, golden hues across the room while the smooth notes of live jazz wove through the air.
The musicians, tucked into a corner, played as though they were part of the room’s heartbeat, their gentle melodies making the space feel alive yet soothing.
James pulled out a chair for Violet, his movements natural, unforced. Violet raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help a small smile as she sat down.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Chivalry isn’t dead, I see,” she teased.
“Well, I try,” James said with a grin, taking his seat across from her.
Violet glanced around, taking in the cozy surroundings.
“This place is charming,” she admitted. “I didn’t know spots like this still existed.”
“Judging by that look on your face, you don’t go to places like this often,” James said, leaning forward slightly, his tone playful.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t go on dates often, that’s for sure,” Violet replied, smoothing the napkin on her lap.
“Really? Hard to believe. A radio host and such a beauty? You must have admirers.”
Violet’s cheeks turned pink, and she waved him off.
“Stop it. I used to date, but I gave it up a long time ago. It always felt like a waste of time.”
James tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Why’s that?”
Violet hesitated before answering.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“After dealing with betrayal, lies, and hearing all those stories on the show… It’s hard to believe in love anymore.”
James’s expression softened.
“Well,” he said gently, “not all of us are so bad.”
“Every man says that,” Violet sighed, leaning back in her chair.
James chuckled but didn’t push further. Instead, he started sharing a story about his childhood, painting vivid pictures of his clumsy adventures that left Violet laughing.
The conversation shifted naturally from funny anecdotes to deeper reflections about their lives.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Violet found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t expected, her guard lowering with each shared laugh.
“See?” James said, grinning as she wiped away tears of laughter. “Not so bad spending time with me, is it?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Violet replied, though her smile betrayed her words.
James stood, gesturing toward the restroom. “I’ll be right back. But I want to hear the rest of your story about the bird when I get back.”
“Hurry up, or I’ll forget it,” Violet called after him, still chuckling as she sipped her water.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her phone buzzed on the table, interrupting her thoughts.
She frowned at the unfamiliar number and hesitated, but curiosity got the better of her.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hi, this is Jane,” a hesitant voice said on the other end.
“Sorry to call so late, but James hasn’t come home, and your number was the only one I could find. Is he with you?”
“Jane?” Violet asked, her voice suddenly tight. “Are you his sister?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Sister? No, I’m his girlfriend,” Jane replied sharply, the words cutting through the air like a knife.
Violet froze, the warmth of the evening draining away. Her heart pounded as Jane’s words echoed in her ears.
Without responding, she hung up, her hands trembling.
She grabbed her bag, scarf, and coat and walked briskly out of the restaurant, leaving behind the candlelight, the music, and the man she thought might have been different.
The next day at the radio station, Violet entered the studio with her usual brisk stride, her scarf loosely draped around her neck.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her expression, however, was anything but usual. It was cold, distant—like a door slammed shut.
She avoided eye contact with James, who was already at the control board, adjusting levels and humming softly to himself.
“Hey, Violet,” James called out, his voice light. He looked up with a smile, but it faltered when she breezed past him without so much as a glance.
“I was worried about you last night. You left so suddenly. I tried calling you—”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m fine,” Violet cut in, her tone sharp and clipped. She didn’t stop moving, setting her bag down with deliberate force.
James frowned, taking a cautious step toward her.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked hesitantly, his voice quieter now.
“You tell me,” she snapped, finally meeting his eyes, her glare icy. “Or maybe ask Jane.”
The name hit him like a slap, and his brow furrowed. “Jane? How do you know her?”
“Your girlfriend called me,” she said icily. “She wanted to know when you’d be home. Don’t worry—I didn’t keep you too long.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Violet, wait—” James started, his hands raised as if to stop the invisible storm brewing between them.
“One more word,” Violet interrupted, her voice cutting through the room like a blade, “and you’ll be looking for a new job.”
James froze, his mouth half-open, then closed it. He nodded stiffly and returned to his seat, his shoulders slumping slightly.
The day dragged on in frosty silence.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
By mid-afternoon, Violet noticed something strange. James didn’t look like a man caught in a lie; he looked genuinely upset.
His face was pale, his expression distant, as if the weight of the world sat on his shoulders.
Curiosity gnawed at her. By the end of the day, she found herself following him as he left the building.
Near the station’s entrance, a young woman stood waiting. Her arms were crossed, her expression a mix of anger and desperation.
“James! We need to talk!” the woman shouted, stepping closer.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
James stopped abruptly and sighed. “We’ve got nothing to talk about, Jane,” he said, his voice firm but weary. “I’ve told you before—we’re done. It has been months! Why won’t you let it go already!?”
“But I love you! No one else will ever love you the way I do! Even that coworker of yours!” Jane cried, her voice breaking.
“Enough!” James snapped. “Because of the lies you told her, Violet won’t even look at me. I’ve had it, Jane. Stay out of my life.”
Jane burst into tears, her shoulders shaking as she pleaded one last time, but James didn’t budge.
Finally, she climbed into her car and drove away, leaving James standing alone. He sank onto the building’s steps, burying his face in his hands.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Violet hesitated before stepping forward. “James…” she said quietly. “I heard everything.”
He looked up, his eyes tired but calm. “Now you know what I was trying to explain,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Violet said softly, her voice filled with genuine regret. “But can you blame me for assuming the worst?”
“No. But not only men can lie as you can see.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She managed a faint smile, her defenses softening.
“Maybe not. Should we give this another try?”
James straightened, a hint of hope returning to his face.
“Why not?” he replied, a small grin tugging at his lips. “After all, tonight’s already been full of surprises.”
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Every year, Sarah had to devise a new excuse to explain to her family why they wouldn’t be visiting. “I won’t miss a single-family holiday because of your parents!” her husband Peter always insisted. But this time, Sarah stood her ground and defended her family values.
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Neighbor Asked My Son to Wash His Car for a Month, Then Refused to Pay – I Taught Him a Lesson of My Own
I could tell something was wrong when Ben walked through the door that Friday evening. He was dragging his feet, and the usual brightness in his eyes was nowhere to be found.
His hands were still wet, probably from wringing out the towels after washing another car, and he avoided eye contact as he dropped onto the couch.
A frustated little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, bud, what’s going on?” I called from the kitchen.
I had planned on making him his favorite grilled chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. I was going to have his plate ready the moment he walked in.
But looking at him now, I was worried. Ben was only 14 but recently got a taste of making money and wanted to be independent.
Plates of food | Source: Midjourney
“Come on,” I said, wiping my hands. “You can tell me anything!”
For a second, he didn’t answer but stared at the ground. My heart sank when I saw the frustration etched on his face.
It was like he was trying to find the words but didn’t know how to get them out.
A close up of a little boy | Source: Midjourney
“He… he didn’t pay me,” Ben finally muttered.
“What do you mean? Didn’t Mr. Peterson agree to pay you $50 each time you washed his car?” I asked, feeling my own brow furrow.
Ben let out a sigh that sounded far too heavy for a 14-year-old.
“Yeah, but today, after I finished washing the car for the fourth time this month, he said it wasn’t ‘spotless’ and that I wouldn’t get paid. At all! He said I should have done a better job if I wanted my money.”
An upset boy | Source: Midjourney
I felt my fists tighten. Mr. Peterson, that smug neighbor of ours who always had something slick to say. He strutted around in his suits, making sure everyone noticed the shine on his precious black Jeep.
“It’s a beautiful car, isn’t it?” he would ask, leaning out of his car. “Stunning!”
A few months ago, he became interested in Ben, especially after seeing Ben wash my car.
“Whoa! You’ve done a great job on your mom’s car, Ben! What do you say about washing my car every Friday? I’ll pay you, of course!”
A Jeep parked in a driveway | Source: Midjourney
Initially, I thought that it was a compliment, but now I could see it for what it really was:
A way to exploit cheap labor.
“You’ve been washing that car every week this month, haven’t you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Ben nodded, sinking deeper into the couch.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, I’ve spent about three hours for the past four weeks, just making sure that it was clean. I even used the hand-vacuum under the seats and everything. But he said that I didn’t deserve to be paid.”
A flush of anger bloomed across my chest.
I knew Ben had done a great job. Whenever he did our car, I was always so impressed by him. And anyway, Mr. Peterson’s car gleamed like a showroom model when my son was done with it.
A frustrated boy | Source: Midjourney
This wasn’t about the car being clean. No, sir. It was about Mr. Peterson being a jerk.
And now?
Now, Ben was left feeling like his hard work wasn’t worth anything.
“How much does he owe you?” I asked.
Ben thought for a moment.
A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney
“Four washes, Mom. So, $200.”
I pulled out my wallet and counted $200 in crisp bills. I handed it to him, watching his eyes widen in surprise.
“Here, you earned this, sweetheart.”
“Mom, you don’t have to. It was Mr. Peterson’s job to pay me!” he exclaimed.
I shook my head, cutting him off.
A woman taking money out of her wallet | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not done with Mr. Peterson, honey. He doesn’t get to treat you like this and walk away.”
Ben looked uncertain, his eyes flicking from the money in his hand to me.
“But, Mom!”
“No ‘buts,’ Ben,” I said, putting my wallet away. “Trust me, I’m going to teach Mr. Peterson a lesson about what happens when you take advantage of someone’s hard work. Now, come on, let’s eat. I’m starving!”
Ben smiled and sat down at the table.
A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, smiling.
The next morning, I woke up with a plan. Mr. Peterson had no idea what was coming. I glanced out the window and, sure enough, there he was, standing in his silk pajamas, meticulously polishing his Jeep like a man obsessed.
I smiled and headed outside, casually walking toward him in my yoga clothes.
“Good morning, Mr. Peterson!” I called out cheerfully.
A man standing next to a Jeep in pajamas | Source: Midjourney
He looked up from his car, his usual smug expression already in place.
“Morning, Irene,” he said. “What can I do for you? But make it quick, I have brunch with the family soon.”
I could have rolled my eyes.
“Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to check in about Ben’s payment for washing your car,” I said. “He mentioned you weren’t satisfied with his work yesterday.”
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Mr. Peterson straightened his back and crossed his arms.
“Yes, that’s right, Irene. The car wasn’t spotless, so I didn’t see the need to pay him. It’s a learning experience, you know? Anyway, he’s a young lad. The world has to humble him.”
The anger from the night before flared up again, but I kept my face neutral, even smiling a little.
“A learning experience, huh?” I said. “Interesting. Ben did tell me that you were a man of your word… and he mentioned that you agreed to pay him $50 per wash, regardless of how spotless it was. And wouldn’t you know it! I’ve got the pictures he took of the car after every wash.”
A man standing next to a Jeep | Source: Midjourney
The smugness in his expression cracked a little.
“Pictures?” Mr. Peterson asked.
“Yes, pictures. He enjoyed sending them to his grandfather after every wash. He is very proud of his work.”
Mr. Peterson grunted.
“And anyway, it seems to me like a verbal agreement was made. And breaking that? Well, that’s a breach of contract, isn’t it? Should I speak to my lawyer about this?”
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
The color drained from his face.
“There’s no need for all that!” he exclaimed.
I held up a hand.
“Oh, I think there is. See, Ben worked hard, and you’re trying to cheat him out of what he earned. So, here’s the deal. You pay my son the $200 today, or I’ll make sure everyone in this neighborhood knows how you treat kids who work for you.”
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
He just stared at me.
“And if that doesn’t convince you, I’m more than happy to take legal action,” I continued.
I could see the panic settle into his features now. The neighbor with the perfect lawn and the perfect Jeep was suddenly sweating bullets into his silk pajamas.
He opened the car door and fumbled for his wallet, quickly counting out the cash.
A man’s wallet | Source: Midjourney
“Here’s your money,” he muttered, handing over $200 in crumpled bills.
“Great. It’s been good doing business with you,” I said with a smile. “But please, understand that my son will not touch a car of yours again.”
He nodded grimly.
Inside, Ben looked up from the couch when I walked in. He had a bowl of cereal in his hands, and his eyes widened when I handed him the cash.
A boy holding a bowl of cereal | Source: Midjourney
“You actually did it!” he exclaimed.
I grinned, feeling a fierce sense of pride.
“No one messes with my son,” I said. “Especially when they think they can get away with not paying what’s owed. Next time, if someone tries to pull a stunt like that, you’ll know exactly how to handle it.”
“Does this mean that I have to give you the $200 back?” he grinned.
A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I laughed. “But I think you can take me out on a mother-son date for lunch today?”
“Deal, Mom,” he said.
Later, when we were sitting in a cute bistro, Ben leaned across his chair, squinting at the sign from the ice cream parlor across the road.
“Help wanted,” he read. “What do you think, Mom? A weekend job at an ice cream parlor?”
A mom and son duo at a bistro | Source: Midjourney
“Go for it,” I laughed, getting into my burger. “But if the boss is mean, you know who to call.”
My son smiled at me and nodded slowly before picking up a fry.
What would you have done?
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Made My Boss Regret Humiliating My Wife’s Appearance in Front of the Whole Office
When Colin and his wife, Alice, end up working at the same company for business tyrant Mr. Taylor, they think that they’ve gotten a sweet deal while they branch out to their passions. But after one mistake at work, Alice is ridiculed in front of everyone, causing Colin to retaliate. As the couple lose their jobs, Colin is left fighting for revenge…
Working as a driver for the owner of a mid-sized company was never the dream, but it paid the bills. If I had to be honest, I would tell you that what I had always wanted to do was own my own construction company, but life often works in funny ways.
A smiling man dressed as a chauffer | Source: Midjourney
The silver lining to being a driver was that I got to go to fancy places and I got to work alongside my wife, Alice. We’d met years ago, long before either of us ended up working at the same place. But when Alice got the job as Mr. Taylor’s personal assistant, she dropped him my resume.
“It’s going to be okay, Colin,” she told me one evening when we were making pasta for dinner.
“He needs a personal driver, and you can do that. Neither of us have to stay there forever, but the pay is good enough for the moment. So, until something better comes along for us, we’ll have to make do.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“I know,” I agreed.
Read the full story here.
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.
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