Era um dia ensolarado em meados de junho quando Jake, meu enteado, chegou. Eu sou Lisa, uma mulher na faixa dos 40 anos, casada com Mark. Temos dois filhos juntos, Emma, de 8 anos, e Noah, de 6 anos. Mark tem outro filho, Jake, de seu primeiro casamento.
Adolescente na estrada | Fonte: Pexels
Jake, agora com 16 anos, visitava a cada poucos anos. Ele costumava ser doce e educado, mas este verão parecia diferente. Eu esperava que fosse apenas angústia adolescente.
“Oi, Jake! Como foi a viagem?” Eu o cumprimentei calorosamente.
“Tudo bem”, Jake murmurou, mal fazendo contato visual.
Mark abraçou seu filho. “Que bom ver você, amigo!”
Mark abraça seu filho | Fonte: Midjourney
Emma e Noah correram até Jake. “Oi, Jake! Sentimos sua falta!” Emma disse com um sorriso brilhante.
Jake deu de ombros. “É, ei.”
Notei o desinteresse de Jake, mas escolhi permanecer otimista. Eu queria que este verão fosse especial.
Uma semana depois da estadia de Jake, notei uma mudança. Ele não era mais o garoto educado de que eu me lembrava.
“Mãe, Jake não deixa a gente brincar na sala”, reclamou Noah.
Menino triste | Fonte: Pexels
Emma acrescentou: “Ele está sempre no telefone ou com os amigos”.
Suspirei. “Eu vou falar com ele.”
“Jake, você pode falar mais baixo? Seus irmãos precisam dormir,” eu disse uma noite.
Jake revirou os olhos. “Tanto faz.”
Na manhã seguinte, a sala de estar estava uma bagunça. Caixas de pizza vazias, latas de refrigerante e migalhas estavam por todo lugar.
“Jake, limpe sua bagunça”, exigi.
Caixas de pizza vazias | Fonte: Pexels
“Por que eu deveria? Não é minha casa,” Jake retrucou.
Era fim de tarde, e o sol estava lançando um brilho quente através das janelas da cozinha enquanto eu terminava de arrumar os balcões. Emma e Noah deveriam estar brincando no quintal. Eu não os ouvia há um tempo, então decidi dar uma olhada. Enquanto eu passava pelo quarto de Jake, ouvi a voz de Emma.
“Por que eu tenho que fazer isso?” ela perguntou, com a voz baixa e cansada.
Emma arruma o quarto | Fonte: Midjourney
Curiosa e preocupada, empurrei a porta do quarto de Jake gentilmente e espiei lá dentro. O que vi fez meu sangue ferver. Emma, minha doce filha de 8 anos, estava de quatro, pegando roupas sujas e lixo do chão de Jake.
O quarto era uma zona de desastre. Roupas estavam espalhadas por todo lugar, embalagens de salgadinhos vazias e um cheiro persistente de suor e pizza velha. Jake estava descansando na cama, rolando o celular sem se importar com nada no mundo. Ele mal olhou para cima quando entrei.
Jake no sofá | Fonte: Midjourney
“Emma, o que você está fazendo?”, perguntei, tentando manter minha voz calma.
Emma olhou para mim, seus olhos arregalados e um pouco marejados. “Jake me disse que eu tinha que limpar o quarto dele,” ela disse suavemente.
Virei-me para Jake, lutando para manter minha raiva sob controle. “Jake, por que Emma está limpando seu quarto?”
Mulher zangada | Fonte: Pexels
Jake finalmente levantou os olhos do telefone, com um sorriso irônico no rosto. “Ela queria ajudar”, ele disse despreocupadamente.
Ajoelhei-me ao lado de Emma e gentilmente peguei suas mãos, que estavam sujas de limpar as fezes do irmão. “Emma, você não precisa limpar o quarto do Jake. Venha comigo, querida.”
Emma hesitou, olhando entre mim e Jake. “Mas Jake disse—”
O olhar inocente de Emma | Fonte: Midjourney
“Não me importa o que Jake disse,” interrompi, minha voz mais firme agora. “Você não precisa fazer o trabalho dele. Vamos.”
Enquanto eu ajudava Emma a se levantar, Jake revirou os olhos. “Ela está bem, Lisa. Por que você está fazendo tanto alarde sobre isso?”
Levantei-me, olhando feio para Jake. “É um grande negócio, Jake. Você está sendo preguiçoso e desrespeitoso. Emma é sua irmã, não sua empregada.”
Jake desrespeitoso | Fonte: Midjourney
Jake deu de ombros, claramente despreocupado. “Tanto faz. Ela não se importa.”
Emma agarrou minha mão, seus olhos ainda arregalados com uma mistura de confusão e medo. “Eu não gosto de limpar o quarto dele, mãe,” ela sussurrou.
Apertei a mão dela de forma tranquilizadora. “Você não precisa, Emma. Você não é responsável pela bagunça do Jake.”
Um fim de semana, Mark e eu planejamos visitar amigos fora da cidade. Decidimos deixar as crianças com Jake.
Menino não obedece ao pai | Fonte: Pexels
“Jake, você está no comando. Nada de festas, e cuide de Emma e Noah,” instruí antes de sair.
“Sim, sim”, Jake murmurou.
Quando voltamos no domingo à noite, a casa estava um desastre. Garrafas de cerveja e lixo espalhados pelo chão.
“Jake! O que aconteceu aqui?” Eu gritei.
Bagunça na casa depois de uma festa | Fonte: Midjourney
Jake entrou, parecendo despreocupado. “Só uma pequena reunião.”
Mark olhou em volta, preocupado. “Onde estão Emma e Noah?”
Emma e Noah saíram do armário, parecendo assustados. O rosto de Emma estava manchado de lágrimas.
“Ele nos trancou lá a noite toda!” Emma gritou.
Um armário bege | Fonte: Pexels
Meu coração se partiu. “Por que você faria isso, Jake?”
“Eles estavam irritando meus amigos”, ele disse com indiferença.
Mark, parecendo desconfortável, disse: “Jake, isso não está certo.”
“Faça alguma coisa a respeito, Mark!”, exigi.
Mark suspirou. “Jake, você não pode fazer isso. Peça desculpas à sua irmã.”
Homem irritado | Fonte: Pexels
Jake revirou os olhos. “Desculpe, Emma.”
“É isso?”, gritei. “Ele precisa ser punido!”
“Falaremos sobre isso mais tarde”, disse Mark, evitando meu olhar.
Não pude acreditar na inação de Mark. Parecia uma traição.
No dia seguinte, descobri que faltava dinheiro na minha bolsa. “Jake, você pegou meu dinheiro?”
Bolsa vazia | Fonte: Pexels
Jake deu de ombros. “Não sei do que você está falando.”
Decidi lhe dar uma lição. Comprei dinheiro falso em uma loja de novidades e coloquei na minha bolsa, armando uma armadilha. Eu estava farto do comportamento dele e era hora de mudar.
Depois de plantar o dinheiro falso na minha bolsa, monitorei Jake cuidadosamente. Não demorou muito. Naquela tarde, eu o vi entrando furtivamente no meu quarto e vasculhando minha bolsa.
“Te peguei”, sussurrei para mim mesmo.
Dinheiro falso na mesa | Fonte: Midjourney
Liguei para meu amigo, Oficial Mike. “Mike, preciso da sua ajuda com um pequeno plano.”
“Claro, Lisa. O que está acontecendo?”
Expliquei a situação, e Mike concordou em ajudar. Montamos o plano para ensinar a Jake uma lição que ele não esqueceria.
No dia seguinte, Jake me disse que ia sair com os amigos. Momento perfeito.
“Divirta-se, Jake”, eu disse, tentando manter meu tom casual.
Jake caminha com seus amigos | Fonte: Midjourney
Eu o segui discretamente até o café onde ele e seus amigos estavam. Eu observei de longe, esperando o momento certo.
Mike entrou no café uniformizado, parecendo sério. Ele se aproximou da mesa de Jake.
“Com licença, filho. Preciso falar com você”, disse Mike.
Jake pareceu confuso. “O quê? Por quê?”
Policial entra | Fonte: Pexels
Mike tirou uma das notas falsas. “Esse dinheiro parece falso. Onde você conseguiu?”
O rosto de Jake empalideceu. “Eu… eu não sei. Eu não fiz nada.”
“Levante-se,” Mike ordenou. “Você vem comigo.”
Jake ficou de pé, tremendo. Seus amigos assistiram em choque, sussurrando entre si.
“Isso é uma piada?”, perguntou um dos amigos de Jake.
Policial fica perto de seu carro | Fonte: Unsplash
“Não é brincadeira”, Mike disse severamente. “Dinheiro falso é uma infração grave.”
Eu gravei a cena toda de fora, capturando a humilhação de Jake. Ele estava à beira das lágrimas.
Entrei no café, agindo surpreso. “O que está acontecendo aqui?”
Mike olhou para mim. “Senhora, você conhece esse garoto?”
Lisa perplexa no café | Fonte: Midjourney
“Sim, ele é meu enteado. O que está acontecendo?”
“Nós o encontramos usando dinheiro falso”, explicou Mike.
“Oh, não, deve haver um engano!” Eu disse, implorando. “Por favor, ele é um bom garoto. Não podemos resolver isso?”
Jake olhou para mim com olhos arregalados e lacrimejantes. “Por favor, Lisa, me ajude!”
Jake Desesperado | Fonte: Midjourney
Mike hesitou, então suspirou. “Tudo bem, já que é a primeira infração dele, vou deixá-lo ir com uma advertência. Mas da próxima vez, haverá consequências sérias.”
“Obrigado, oficial”, eu disse, fingindo alívio.
Jake me abraçou com força. “Obrigado, obrigado! Nunca mais farei algo assim, prometo.”
Saímos do café e, quando estávamos a uma distância segura, mostrei o vídeo a Jake.
Mulher segura smartphone nas mãos | Fonte: Pexels
“Jake, se você continuar se comportando assim, vou mostrar esse vídeo para todos os seus amigos.”
O rosto de Jake caiu. “Você… você fez isso?”
“Sim, e foi para o seu próprio bem. Você precisa entender que suas ações têm consequências.”
“Sinto muito, Lisa. Sinto mesmo”, Jake disse, parecendo genuinamente arrependido.
Jake arrependido | Fonte: Midjourney
Daquele dia em diante, o comportamento de Jake mudou. Ele começou a ajudar em casa, tratou Emma e Noah com respeito e até pediu desculpas a eles.
“Ei, Emma, Noah, querem jogar um jogo?” Jake perguntou uma noite.
“Claro!” Emma respondeu, surpresa, mas feliz.
Mark também notou a mudança. “Jake está diferente ultimamente. O que você fez?”
Crianças jogam videogame | Fonte: Pexels
“Só dei um pequeno alerta para ele”, eu disse com um sorriso.
A paz em nossa casa foi restaurada, e eu senti uma sensação de satisfação. Não foi fácil, mas valeu a pena. Eu estava comprometido em manter um ambiente familiar respeitoso, e parecia que Jake finalmente entendeu a importância disso.
Este trabalho é inspirado em eventos e pessoas reais, mas foi ficcionalizado para fins criativos. Nomes, personagens e detalhes foram alterados para proteger a privacidade e melhorar a narrativa. Qualquer semelhança com pessoas reais, vivas ou mortas, ou eventos reais é mera coincidência e não intencional do autor.
O autor e a editora não fazem nenhuma reivindicação quanto à precisão dos eventos ou à representação dos personagens e não são responsáveis por nenhuma interpretação errônea. Esta história é fornecida “como está”, e quaisquer opiniões expressas são as dos personagens e não refletem as opiniões do autor ou da editora.
Businessman Loses All Hope After His Diagnosis, but One Hospital Encounter Changes Everything — Story of the Day
When a workaholic businessman receives devastating news about his health, he meets a young boy in the hospital who changes his outlook on life. Their bond grows through unexpected friendship and small acts of kindness, teaching him what truly matters—until a heartbreaking twist reshapes everything.
Andrew, 50, sat at his desk, shuffling through papers while juggling scheduling meetings with his partners.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He didn’t hear Michael, his assistant, enter the room. Michael stood there, waiting. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.
No response. Andrew kept working, his focus sharp. Michael tried again. “Mr. Smith.” Still no answer. He repeated his name three more times.
Finally, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk and snapped, “What?”
Michael didn’t flinch. “You asked me to tell you if your ex-wife called.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew groaned and rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? Ignore her calls. What now?”
Michael held a notepad. “She left a message. I should warn you—it’s a direct quote. Her words, not mine.” He read from the note. “‘You pompous jerk, I will never forgive you for wasting so many years of my life. If you don’t give me back my painting, I’ll smash your car.’ That’s the message.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew’s face turned red. “We’ve been divorced for two years! Does she not have anything better to do?”
Michael looked at him, waiting for further instructions. “Should I respond to her?”
“No! And stop taking her calls,” Andrew said. Then he paused. “Actually, tell her I threw that painting in the trash!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew grabbed a pen and hurled it toward the wall. Michael ducked slightly, gave a polite nod, and left the room.
Moments later, Andrew’s phone rang. He frowned, picking it up.
“Andrew Smith?” a voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“This is the hospital. Your test results are ready. The doctor wants to see you.”
“Can’t you just tell me now?” Andrew said, irritated. “I’m busy.”
“Sorry, sir. The doctor will explain in person.”
Andrew sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll come in.” He hung up, shaking his head.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew rarely allowed himself the luxury of a lunch break, but this time was different. The doctor’s office was quiet, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound.
Andrew sat stiffly in a chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. When the door opened, the doctor stepped in, his face serious. Andrew frowned, sensing bad news.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The doctor sat across from him and spoke in a steady, measured tone, using terms Andrew didn’t understand.
Then came the word—cancer. “We need to act fast,” the doctor said.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Andrew asked, his voice sharp. “I own a company. I can’t just check into a hospital.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The doctor met his eyes. “Your health should come first. The company can wait.”
Andrew leaned forward. “What are my chances of getting better?”
“I can’t promise anything,” the doctor said. “Starting treatment right away is critical.”
Andrew’s voice rose. “Can I still work while I’m here?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Treatment affects everyone differently,” the doctor explained. “You will stay in the hospital so we can monitor you. Someone can bring you a computer.”
Andrew frowned and stood up. “Fine. I’ll sort it out.”
The doctor watched him leave. “We’ll see you tomorrow with your things,” he said before Andrew reached the door.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As Andrew walked through the hospital’s pediatric wing, he noticed a boy, about eight years old, tossing a ball back and forth with a nurse.
The sound of their laughter echoed in the corridor. The ball suddenly rolled across the floor and stopped near Andrew’s feet.
“Excuse me, sir!” the boy called out, smiling. “Can you please throw the ball back?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew picked up the ball, his face tense. Without a word, he hurled it down the hall, far from the boy and nurse, then turned and walked away.
“That was mean, sir!” the boy shouted.
Andrew had been in the hospital for days that felt like weeks. He tried to keep working, setting up his laptop and pushing through meetings.
But the treatment was draining. Each session left him weaker. The nausea was constant, and sleep was nearly impossible.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, during another long chemotherapy session, Andrew leaned back, his eyes half-closed. He felt miserable.
Suddenly, a small voice broke through his fog. He opened his eyes to see a boy standing in front of him. Startled, Andrew flinched. The boy giggled. It was the same boy from the corridor.
“What do you want, kid?” Andrew mumbled, not even lifting his head.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve been walking around the hospital looking for someone to play with. It’s boring here.”
Andrew glanced at him, annoyed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Tommy,” the boy replied with a wide grin.
Andrew sighed. “Listen, Tommy. I’m not in the mood to play. Go bother someone else before I start feeling worse.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Tommy didn’t move. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small peppermint candy. He held it out to Andrew. “This helps with nausea. You should try it.”
Andrew hesitated, then snatched the candy and set it on the table.
“You’re really grumpy!” Tommy said, laughing. “I’m going to call you Mr. Grouch. Are you mad because you’re scared of needles?” He pointed at the IV attached to Andrew’s arm.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew frowned. “I’m not scared of anything.”
Tommy nodded. “That’s fine. I was scared at first too, but then I stopped. My mom says I’m a superhero. Do you have a superpower?”
“No,” Andrew said, his voice flat.
“That’s because you’re too sad,” Tommy replied, his tone serious now.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew looked at the boy, surprised by the honesty in his big, bright eyes. “Is there anything you want?” Andrew asked.
Tommy grinned. “Yeah. I want to buy flowers for my mom. She works really hard, but I don’t have any money.”
Andrew sighed again, reached for his wallet, and pulled out a few bills. “Here. Get your flowers. Maybe buy yourself something too. But leave me alone.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Tommy’s face lit up. “Thanks, Mr. Grouch!” He ran out, clutching the money, while Andrew stared at the peppermint candy on the table.
With a sigh, he picked it up, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. To his surprise, the sharp sweetness helped ease the nausea. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference for a while.
That evening, as Andrew stared at his laptop, a nurse knocked on his door.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She carried a small paper bag. “This is for you,” she said, placing it on the table. “Tommy sent it.”
Andrew opened the bag and found it full of peppermint candies. He shook his head, unsure whether to feel amused or moved.
The next morning, he decided to find Tommy. He needed to make one thing clear: the money wasn’t a gift.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As he approached Tommy’s room, he saw a woman leaning against the wall, her shoulders shaking. She was crying.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked, his voice low.
The woman wiped her eyes quickly and looked up. “Yes… Did you need something?”
“Tommy gave me some candies yesterday,” Andrew said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The woman’s lips curved into a small smile. “Oh, so you’re Mr. Grouch,” she said.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Andrew,” he replied.
“I’m Sara,” she said. “Are you here for treatment too?”
Andrew nodded.
“Then you understand,” Sara said quietly. “The bills, the stress. I can’t even pay rent right now. They told me we’ll be evicted in two months.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew nodded again, unsure of what to say. Before he could respond, the door burst open. Tommy ran out, his face lighting up when he saw Andrew. “Hey, Mr. Grouch!” he called, grinning ear to ear.
From that day forward, Tommy became a constant presence in Andrew’s life.
The boy would wander into Andrew’s room with a big grin and endless energy. At first, Andrew found it annoying, but Tommy’s persistence wore him down.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Soon, Andrew began looking forward to the visits. Tommy taught him to notice the simple joys in life.
They sat by the window, watching the sunset, guessing the colors in the sky. They played harmless pranks on nurses, earning scolding looks and stifled smiles.
Sometimes, they “borrowed” wheelchairs and raced down the halls, laughing until their sides hurt.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew didn’t ask about Tommy’s illness. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up. One afternoon, Tommy mentioned Sara had been crying again. “She’s worried about money,” Tommy said. “We might lose our house.”
Andrew quietly gave Tommy an envelope of cash. “Tell her it’s from a magician,” he said.
When Sara tried to return the money, Andrew waved her off. “I’m not a magician,” he said. “I don’t know where it came from.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Weeks passed. Andrew’s treatments worked, and the day came when the doctor gave him the news—he was cancer-free.
Ecstatic, Andrew rushed to share it with Tommy. But when he arrived, Tommy was unconscious, Sara sitting beside him, tears streaming down her face.
“What happened?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Sara wiped her eyes and shook her head. “The doctors said there’s nothing more they can do.”
Andrew stared at her, struggling to process the words. “But… he seemed so happy. He always smiled. I thought he was improving.”
Sara looked at him, her face full of pain. “He didn’t want you to see how sick he was. He wanted to be strong for you. He thought he was a superhero.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew’s chest tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
Sara managed a faint smile through her tears. “Don’t be. He said you saved him. These months, you gave him laughter and hope. You made him forget about being sick.”
Andrew shook his head slowly. “No. He’s the one who saved me.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She cried quietly against his shoulder, and though Andrew wished he could take her pain away, he knew nothing would ever truly ease it.
That night, Tommy passed away peacefully, surrounded by the love of his mother and the memories he had made.
Andrew sat alone in his room afterward, overwhelmed by the loss. Andrew couldn’t bear the thought of such a bright soul being forgotten.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Determined, he started a foundation in Tommy’s name to help sick children, ensuring his kindness would live on.
He also stayed in touch with Sara, offering her support in every way he could.
One afternoon, Andrew stood at his ex-wife’s door, holding the painting she had demanded for so long. She opened the door, her mouth ready to hurl accusations, but Andrew silently handed her the painting.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not here to argue,” Andrew said, his tone calm as he held out the painting.
His ex-wife frowned, puzzled. “What is this supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Nothing important,” Andrew replied, a small smile forming. “I’m just making sure I keep my superpowers.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Taking care of Mom was hard enough without the tension with my sister. Accusations flew when precious things started disappearing. I thought I knew who was to blame, but the truth shattered my world. Betrayal came from where I least expected, leaving me questioning everything—and everyone—I trusted.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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