My Parents Gave Me $10,000 to Pay for College — I Was Shocked to Find Out What They Wanted in Return

My Parents Gave Me $10,000 to Pay for College — I Was Shocked to Find Out What They Wanted in Return

I am about to graduate high school and I have been applying to universities and going on tours. My parents decided to gift me $10,000 to cover college costs. I was excited about this gift until they told me what they wanted in return. I refused their terms and walked away but now they are calling me ungrateful.

Parents giving cash gift to daughter | Source: Getty Images

Parents giving cash gift to daughter | Source: Getty Images

Growing up in a small state with big dreams, I always envisioned my future in New York pursuing my dreams. My vibrant brushstrokes, which had been a part of me almost all my life, kept my dream going.

My room was a kaleidoscope of colors, filled to the brim with paintings that spoke volumes of my journey through high school. I won art competitions and its perks were evident in the array of accolades adorning my walls.

A young woman painting | Source: Getty Images

A young woman painting | Source: Getty Images

But art wasn’t just about the trophies; it was about the stories behind each brushstroke, each piece holding a piece of my heart. Among these masterpieces, a subtle hint of my side gig lingered, paintings created with love, for lovers, whispering tales of romance and passion.

A room with framed artwork | Source: Getty Images

A room with framed artwork | Source: Getty Images

Painting was more than a hobby to me, it was my passion and my identity. My parents, on the other hand, saw it as a fleeting interest, something that would never sustain a ‘real’ career. They encouraged me to explore more ‘practical’ fields, but my heart was set on pursuing an art degree in New York, a city that pulsed with creativity and opportunity.

A woman painting her room | Source: Getty Images

A woman painting her room | Source: Getty Images

One evening, amidst my college applications and tours, the dinner table conversation started off innocently enough. My parents had a surprise for me, a gesture so generous it left me speechless. “We’ve decided to give you $10,000 to help pay for college,” my mom announced, her smile as warm as the summer sun.

I was over the moon. “Thank you so much! This means I can apply to my dream art schools in New York!” I exclaimed, visions of bustling city streets and inspiring art galleries dancing in my head.

A happy daughter receiving cash gift from parents | Source: Getty Images

A happy daughter receiving cash gift from parents | Source: Getty Images

But the warmth quickly faded as my dad cleared his throat, signaling the onset of conditions I hadn’t anticipated. “There are two rules,” he said sternly. “First, you can’t leave the state for university. And second, you can only choose from the degrees we approve of — medicine or law. We don’t think an art degree is the right path for you.”

My heart sank. “But I’ve been painting my whole life. You know how much this means to me,” I countered, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

A daughter sad at her parents terms | Source: Getty Images

A daughter sad at her parents terms | Source: Getty Images

“We’re doing this for your own good, Ruth. Stop being ungrateful. We just want you to have a secure future,” my mom chimed in, her voice softer but no less firm.

The argument that ensued was not just heated; it was a clash of dreams and practicalities, each word sharp with the tension of unmet expectations. “How can you call it help if it comes with strings that strangle my dreams?” I cried out, my voice cracking under the strain of emotion. My parents, steadfast in their stance, responded with equal fervor.

A mother repremanding daughter | Source: Getty Images

A mother repremanding daughter | Source: Getty Images

“Ruth, we’re not trying to strangle your dreams, that is an ungrateful thing to say. We’re trying to ensure you have a future that’s not dependent on whims,” my dad countered, his tone laced with frustration and concern.

“Art isn’t a whim! It’s who I am. Don’t you understand? By restricting me to medicine or law, you’re asking me to give up a part of myself,” I shot back, desperation creeping into my voice. Each word felt like a plea for them to see me, to really see the person I was and the dreams I harbored.

Very upset parents scolding their daughter | Source: Getty Images

Very upset parents scolding their daughter | Source: Getty Images

My mom sighed, her usual composure faltering. “We’ve seen too many struggles in fields like art. We don’t want that life for you. Can’t you see we’re doing this out of love?”

“But love shouldn’t come with conditions that force me into a mold I don’t fit,” I argued, my heart aching with the need to be understood. “I appreciate the gift, I really do. But if it means sacrificing my passion, my dreams, then what’s it worth? Isn’t my happiness and fulfillment important too?”

Angry father with daughter | Source: Getty Images

Angry father with daughter | Source: Getty Images

The room fell silent, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. I stood there, feeling more alienated than ever. It was clear that the gap between us wasn’t just about the money or even about my career choice; it was about recognition, about them not validating my identity and aspirations.

Unable to bear the weight of their expectations and the pain of feeling so fundamentally misunderstood, I stormed out, the sound of my departure echoing through the house.

A daughter leaving home | Source: Getty Images

A daughter leaving home | Source: Getty Images

The door slammed shut behind me, a symbolic closure to a conversation that left me feeling more lost and alone than before. The gift that was meant to pave my way to the future now felt like chains binding me to a path I couldn’t walk, a future I couldn’t accept.

In the weeks that followed, I sought refuge at my friend’s place, a sanctuary where I could escape the stifling atmosphere of my home. It was a time of reflection and, surprisingly, of understanding. I realized that my parents’ intentions, albeit misguided, came from a place of love. They wanted me close, and safe in a career they deemed secure.

A sad daughter | Source: Getty Images

A sad daughter | Source: Getty Images

But a fire still burned within me, a desire to follow my dreams. I started working on a presentation, pouring my heart into every slide. I gathered testimonials from successful artists, statistics on the demand for creative professionals, and a detailed budget plan to manage my expenses beyond the $10,000 gift. My aim was to show not just the viability of an art degree but the depth of my commitment to my passion.

A daughter thinking about her future | Source: Getty Images

A daughter thinking about her future | Source: Getty Images

With the presentation ready, I reached out to my parents, asking for a chance to discuss my future. They agreed, and on the day of the meeting, a mix of nerves and determination filled me. As I walked into the hotel lobby to meet my parents, a knot tightened in my stomach, and my palms grew clammy with nerves.

Nervous woman walking | Source: Getty Images

Nervous woman walking | Source: Getty Images

Despite my determination, fear gnawed at me, whispering doubts and uncertainties. The weight of the impending conversation pressed heavily upon me, each step forward feeling like a leap into the unknown. Yet, amidst the fear, a flicker of hope persisted, driving me forward with the belief that this meeting could change everything.

Nervous daughter presenting to parents | Source: Getty Images

Nervous daughter presenting to parents | Source: Getty Images

“Mom, Dad, I understand your concerns, but I need you to see things from my perspective,” I began, as soon as we were done with the pleasantries. Clicking through slides that represented my dreams and plans. I spoke of compromise, of understanding, of a future where passion and pragmatism could coexist.

A woman presenting | Source: Getty Images

A woman presenting | Source: Getty Images

“Pursuing art is not just an urge; it’s my passion, my calling. I need the freedom to explore this path fully,” I said meeting my parents’ gaze with determination.

Acknowledging their worries, I continued, “I know you want what’s best for me, and I appreciate that. So, here’s what I’m proposing, regular check-ins and updates on my progress. You’ll see firsthand how committed I am to making this work. Please, trust me to follow my dreams.”

Parents listening to their daughter | Source: Getty Images

Parents listening to their daughter | Source: Getty Images

As I talked, I saw the change in their expressions, from skepticism to contemplation, and finally, to understanding. “We never realized how much this meant to you,” my dad admitted, his voice softer than I’d heard in weeks. “Your presentation… it’s clear you’ve thought this through.”

Happy parents with daughter | Source: Getty Images

Happy parents with daughter | Source: Getty Images

I Saw a Delivery Man on My Doorbell Camera and It Shattered My Whole Life

Embarking on an ordinary day, a routine motion alert on her doorbell camera catapults a woman into a world of betrayal and deception. Follow her journey as she uncovers the shocking truth behind a mysterious package, leading to the collapse of her family’s perfect facade and the pursuit of redemption in a new chapter of life.

It was just another typical Thursday, with work emails flooding my inbox and reports piling up on my desk. Amidst the chaos, my phone suddenly chimed with an alert from the home security app. A motion notification from the doorbell camera caught my attention. I opened the app to see a delivery man standing at my front door, clutching a nondescript brown parcel.

A delivery man ringing doorbell at a customer's apartment | Source: Shutterstock

A delivery man ringing doorbell at a customer’s apartment | Source: Shutterstock

Initially, I brushed it off as a routine delivery—perhaps a package I had forgotten about or a belated birthday gift for my husband, Mark. Without much thought, I shot Mark a quick text, asking if he was expecting a delivery. His response was immediate and perplexing, “No, what delivery?”

Confusion swirled in my mind as I pondered the situation. Why was there a delivery if Mark wasn’t expecting anything? With a growing sense of unease, I decided to delve deeper into the matter. I navigated to the saved footage from the doorbell camera, hoping for some clarity.

A young woman looking unhappy while checking something on her phone | Source: Shutterstock

A young woman looking unhappy while checking something on her phone | Source: Shutterstock

As I watched the footage, a chill ran down my spine. The delivery man’s demeanor was unsettling, his smirk carrying an air of certainty. His words echoed in my mind, “Enjoy your surprise, Mrs. Thompson. Can’t wait to see what’s inside.” It was as if he knew something I didn’t, and the cryptic message left me with an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

Despite my attempts to shake off the unease, the encounter lingered in my thoughts, nagging at me like a persistent itch. Questions raced through my mind, each one more troubling than the last. Who was this delivery man, and why was he so confident? What was in the package, and why was it delivered to my doorstep?

A woman lost in deep thoughts | Source: Shutterstock

A woman lost in deep thoughts | Source: Shutterstock

With each passing moment, the mystery deepened, casting a shadow over the rest of my day. Little did I know, that this seemingly harmless delivery would set off a chain of events that would shatter the normalcy in my life.

As the day wore on, the unease that had settled in my stomach only intensified, gnawing at me like a relentless predator. Every passing minute seemed to stretch into eternity, each moment filled with a mounting sense of dread.

Returning home, I wasted no time unraveling the mystery that had haunted me all day. With trembling hands, I tore open the parcel, revealing its enigmatic contents. A beautiful silk scarf lay nestled within, its vibrant hues contrasting against the muted tones of the packaging. Accompanying it was a note, cryptic in its simplicity, “For our special memories. More to come.”

A woman opening up a package | Source: Shutterstock

A woman opening up a package | Source: Shutterstock

My heart hammered against my chest, in disbelief. This wasn’t from Mark—of that, I was certain. But if not from him, then who? And what memories could they possibly be referring to?

“The scarf is stunning,” I remarked, my voice barely above a whisper, “but I have no idea who it’s from.”

Mark’s brow furrowed in confusion as he examined the contents of the package. “That’s strange,” he mused, his voice tinged with genuine bewilderment. “I didn’t order anything. Are you sure it’s not from one of your friends?”

An annoyed couple staring at a delivery box | Source: Shutterstock

An annoyed couple staring at a delivery box | Source: Shutterstock

I shook my head. “No, it’s addressed to me, but there’s no sender’s name,” I explained, my words punctuated by a sense of growing unease. “And this note…” I trailed off, my gaze fixed on the cryptic message before us.

Mark’s eyes widened in surprise as he read the note, his confusion mirroring my own. “For our special memories?” he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. “What memories could they be talking about?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I replied, my tone laced with frustration. “But something about this doesn’t feel right.”

A doubting man staring at a woman | Source: Shutterstock

A doubting man staring at a woman | Source: Shutterstock

The tension between us was intense as we exchanged uncertain glances, each of us grappling with the weight of the unanswered questions that appeared before us. With the first light of dawn, I resolved to unravel the secrets that threatened to suffocate me, clinging to the hope that I would find answers to my unanswered questions.

While Mark set out for his routine jog, I seized the opportunity to delve into the depths of our financial records, hoping to unearth the truth buried within our transactions. Hours passed in a blur as I meticulously combed through bank statements and credit card records.

Close-up photo of a person going through financial records | Source: Shutterstock

Close-up photo of a person going through financial records | Source: Shutterstock

Just when I was about to give up, I stumbled upon a series of charges that sent a chill down my spine. A boutique hotel in the heart of the city, its name displayed on the screen before me—a place we had never visited together, nor had any reason to. My stomach churned with a sickening mixture of fear and dread. Was Mark having an affair?

Determined to confront the truth head-on, I resolved to take matters into my own hands. With a lame excuse, I took a personal day off work and made my way to the hotel, the weight of uncertainty heavy upon my shoulders.

Pretending to be a forgetful guest who had left something behind, I pleaded with the receptionist for access to the room that had been booked under Mark’s name. To my surprise—and relief—my ruse succeeded, and I found myself standing on the threshold of the unknown, the scent of anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

A woman talking to an Asian receptionist | Source: Shutterstock

A woman talking to an Asian receptionist | Source: Shutterstock

Stepping into the room, I was met with an eerie silence. My eyes scanned the space, searching for any trace of the truth that had eluded me for so long.

And then, like a whisper in the wind, I heard them—the voices emanating from the adjoining room. My heart pounded in my chest as I strained to make out the words, my mind racing with conflicting emotions. It couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t.

But as I pressed my ear against the door, the truth became painfully clear. One of the voices belonged to my father, Nick—a man whom I had always revered, whose steadfast presence had been a pillar of strength throughout my life. And the other—a tender, feminine voice that sent shockwaves of disbelief coursing through my veins.

An elderly man and woman in a hotel room | Source: Shutterstock

An elderly man and woman in a hotel room | Source: Shutterstock

It was a betrayal of the highest order, a revelation that broke the trust and stability I had clung to so desperately. The air in the room grew heavy with tension as I demanded an explanation, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

Nick, with a heavy heart and eyes filled with remorse, finally admitted to the truth that had been hiding in the shadows for far too long. He confessed to his affair— revealing that he had been seeing his mistress for years and that the two had met before he married my mom.

And despite the passage of time and the vows they had both taken, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. The boutique hotel, with its discreet allure and secluded charm, had become their secret meeting spot—a haven where they could escape reality and lose themselves in the embrace of forbidden love.

An elderly couple drinking coffee in a hotel room | Source: Shutterstock

An elderly couple drinking coffee in a hotel room | Source: Shutterstock

But as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, one question remained unanswered. “Why the delivery? Why now?” I asked, my voice cracking with emotion. I showed them the doorbell camera footage and they gasped. They had no knowledge of the mysterious package that had arrived on our doorstep.

As the reality of their affair unraveled before us, they confessed to a secret that had remained hidden for far too long—a son, born from their forbidden love, who had spent a lifetime resenting the father who had never been a part of his life.

It was he who had delivered the package, a calculated act of revenge aimed at exposing the affair that had torn his family apart. The scarf and note were but pieces of a larger puzzle, tokens of affection exchanged between lovers whose love had been forbidden by the constraints of society.

An elderly couple having a discussion | Source: Shutterstock

An elderly couple having a discussion | Source: Shutterstock

They were his mother’s gifts, taken from her home in a desperate bid to expose the truth. As the truth unfolded before me, a glimmer of clarity emerged—a realization that the perfect image of my family was nothing more than an illusion, a union built upon lies and deceit.

As I stood amidst the wreckage of my shattered world, the pieces of my fractured reality lay scattered around me, a painful reminder of the betrayal that had torn my family apart. Nick’s confession to my mother had been the final blow. In the days that followed, the weight of the truth pressed down upon us like a leaden blanket, suffocating us with unbearable heaviness.

My mother, her heart broken and her spirit weary, made the difficult decision to end her marriage, unable to bear the weight of the deception that had poisoned our family from within. And so, they agreed to part ways, each seeking solace in the promise of a new beginning.

A dissapointed elderly woman | Source: Shutterstock

A dissapointed elderly woman | Source: Shutterstock

As for me, the revelation of Mark’s complicity in my father’s affair had dealt a devastating blow to our marriage, shattering the trust that had once bound us together. The betrayal cut deep, leaving wounds that would never fully heal.

And so, we made the painful decision to go our separate ways, each forging a new path in search of redemption and healing. With the weight of the past heavy upon our shoulders, my mother and I knew that we needed a fresh start—a chance to leave behind the memories and the pain that had come to define our home.

Mother and daughter bonding | Source: Shutterstock

Mother and daughter bonding | Source: Shutterstock

And so, we made the bold decision to sell our house, pack our bags, and leave behind the familiar comforts of the life we had known. We found refuge in a small coastal town in a distant corner of the world, where the sea and the sky stretched out like a vast expanse of possibility.

Here, amidst the gentle rhythm of the waves and the whisper of the wind, we found solace in the promise of new beginnings. In the quiet moments that followed, as we stood on the threshold of our new lives, I realized that the journey ahead would not be easy.

Mother and daughter spending quality time at the beach | Source: Shutterstock

Mother and daughter spending quality time at the beach | Source: Shutterstock

The road to healing would be long and filled with challenges and obstacles at every turn. But with each step forward, we found strength in each other, drawing courage from the bonds of love and resilience that had carried us through the darkest of days.

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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