A woman refused to take her husband’s younger sister in after her father’s death because the couple had decided not to have children together. The husband felt conflicted, as he wanted to care for his sister, but his wife disagreed.
The husband, referred to as the original poster (OP), shared on Reddit that after his father passed away, leaving his sister with no one to care for her, he planned to do anything for her. However, his wife did not share the same sentiment.
The couple had been married for two years, and the OP’s sister, who was much younger, saw him as more of a father figure than an older brother. The little sister was eleven when their father passed away.
The dilemma arose because the OP and his wife had not welcomed any children and had no plans to in the future. Despite the tragic loss, the couple did not want children, which became a source of tension.
The OP’s sister had two options for guardianship – the OP or their uncle (their father’s brother). They asked the sister to choose, and she opted to stay with the OP.
However, the wife objected, stating that taking in the sister would mean having a child, and since the uncle could adopt her, they shouldn’t have to.
The OP, prioritizing his sister’s well-being, insisted on taking her in, leading to conflict with his wife. After a heated exchange, the OP told his wife that he would let his sister stay with them, even if it meant divorce. They did not talk for a while.
In an update, the OP mentioned that he and his wife decided to go their separate ways after discussing the situation again.
The wife claimed he chose his sister over her, and the OP affirmed that his sister was his priority. Many people supported the OP’s decision, commending him for prioritizing his sister’s needs.
Some criticized the wife for not being more compassionate, while others empathized with her perspective, acknowledging the challenges of caring for a child dealing with trauma.
The OP and his wife ultimately parted ways, with the OP embracing the role of a single father-figure for his sister.
My Family Left Grandpa at the Hotel to Avoid Paying — They Didn’t Realize I Was the Wrong Grandson to Mess With
As the front doors slid open and my feet touched the tile, I spotted him—my grandfather—standing behind the counter.
His shoulders drooped, and his hands trembled slightly as he held a thick sheet of paper.
Just two months before, he had retired at 74, after spending 52 years working as a machinist. He’d never missed a day unless he was genuinely sick—and even then, he still called in to check on things.
Grandpa was the quiet, dependable type. Every birthday, he’d show up with a card and some money inside. He never missed one. Always giving. Never asking for anything in return.
So when my aunt, his daughter, suggested we do something meaningful for his birthday, my cousin Ashley jumped at the chance. Everyone agreed. The plan? A weeklong, all-inclusive beach resort trip. Ashley handled all the arrangements—booked five rooms, even reserved a suite with a private balcony just for Grandpa.
He was told not to worry about the cost.
So he packed his one suitcase, brought along his old fishing hat, and wore sandals for the first time in a decade. Off they went.
I couldn’t join until the final day—work obligations kept me in the city—but I booked a one-way ticket to help Grandpa get home. He hated airports. Said they made him feel disoriented.
When I arrived, the sun was out, and palm trees swayed in the breeze.
I walked into the hotel smiling.
That smile disappeared fast.
Grandpa stood alone. His suitcase was packed. The bill was in his hands. Everyone else was gone.
“They said everything was paid for,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He nodded. “That’s what I believed too. But this morning, they all got ready, said checkout was noon, and left for the airport.”
“I didn’t want to cause any trouble,” he added. “What matters is… they had a good time.”
I looked at him, then down at that bill. My fists clenched.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I stepped outside and pulled out my phone. I called Ashley. She answered on the second ring.
My voice was calm but cold. “Why did you leave Grandpa with a $12,000 bill?”
She hesitated, then laughed.
“We figured he could cover it,” she said casually. “He’s retired. Doesn’t support the family anymore. It was like… a thank-you trip. From him to us.”
“You figured?” I said, my voice tightening. “You figured it was fine to stick a seventy-four-year-old man with a $12,000 bill without asking?”
I stared at the road in front of the hotel, phone clenched in my hand, while laughter drifted over from the pool.
“Let me be clear,” I said flatly. “He’s not the one who looks foolish. You are.”
Inside, I could still hear Grandpa trying to explain things at the front desk, still apologizing for something he didn’t cause.
I went back in and paid the entire bill myself. The manager printed the receipt, and I asked for a detailed breakdown by room. She promised to email it within the hour.
That night, I called an old college friend who’s now a lawyer. Sharp, meticulous.
By morning, we had:
A full itemized invoice, with each relative’s charges clearly outlined.
Security footage from the lobby shows them checking out, no goodbyes, no hesitation.
Written confirmation from staff that Grandpa had been left behind and told he was responsible for the charges.
We drafted formal letters:
“You are responsible for the charges listed below. Payment is expected within 14 days. If not received, I will pursue reimbursement in small claims court for fraud, financial abuse of a senior, and abandonment.”
Each envelope contained the invoice with their charges highlighted in yellow.
Three days later, Ashley paid in full. No apology. Just a bank transfer with a sour-faced emoji in the memo. Her brother followed, then my aunt. One by one, the money came back.
In two weeks, all $12,000 had been reimbursed—except for Grandpa’s part.
I told the lawyer to leave that untouched.
Thanksgiving passed in silence. No calls. No invites.
Grandpa didn’t seem surprised.
But he’s different now—lighter, happier. He laughs more freely. In a strange way, that awful trip gave him something priceless: closure. A clean slate. A brand-new chapter.
Leave a Reply