Who steals from their daughter? My stepmom did. She swiped $5K from my college fund for veneers. For a perfect Hollywood smile. But karma hit faster than a dental drill, leaving her with more regret than glam.
They say money can’t buy happiness, but my stepmom sure thought it could buy a million-dollar smile. The kicker? She stole from my college fund (which was set up by my late mom) to install her veneers and acted like it wasn’t a big deal. But don’t worry! Sit back, relax, and let me tell you about the day karma grew teeth and bit back.
A distressed teenage girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
I’m Kristen, your average 17-year-old with dreams bigger than my stepmom’s ego. My mom passed away when I was young, but she left behind a college fund. It wasn’t huge, but it was a start to secure my future.
My dad, Bob, and I had been adding to it ever since, mostly from my part-time gigs tutoring kids who think “Pi” is something you eat with ice cream. And some babysitting, which paid me weekly.
Everything went well until, ta-da — enter Tracy, my stepmother and the human embodiment of a selfie stick.
An elegant senior lady holding a glass of wine | Source: Pexels
This woman spends more time in front of the mirror than a mime pretending to be trapped in a box. I swear, if vanity were an Olympic sport, Tracy would make Narcissus look like an amateur.
She’s so obsessed with appearances. Her clothes, hair, and nails always have to be perfect. It’s like she’s trying to be a real-life Barbie. (Sorry, Barbie!)
She spends hours in front of the mirror but never has time for anything that really matters, like, oh I don’t know, being a decent human. It’s like she’s got a mirror installed in her brain.
A senior woman applying lipstick | Source: Pexels
One fateful day, I came home to find Tracy grinning like she’d just won the lottery.
“Kristen, darling!” she chirped, her voice sweeter than a hummingbird’s diet. “Guess what your amazing stepmom is going to do?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Finally learn how to use the washing machine without flooding the laundry room?”
A young girl crossing her arms | Source: Midjourney
Tracy’s smile faltered for a microsecond before returning full force. “No, silly! I’m getting veneers! Isn’t that fabulous?”
“Uh, congrats?” I muttered, wondering why this warranted a full-blown announcement.
“Oh, don’t look so glum!” she gushed. “This is cause for celebration! And the best part? I found a way to make it happen without breaking the bank.”
That’s when my stomach dropped faster than a skydiver with a faulty parachute. “What do you mean?”
A senior woman sitting on the couch | Source: Pexels
Tracy’s smile widened like a Cheshire cat, except her teeth looked more like a set of construction cones dipped in mustard.
“Well, I borrowed a little from your college fund. Just $5,000!”
I stood there, mouth agape, feeling like I’d just been sucker-punched by the Tooth Fairy on steroids. “You did WHAT? You STOLE my college fund?”
Tracy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Stole? I’m family. It’s not a big deal, honey!”
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
“You had NO RIGHT! That money’s for my future. My mom set it up for me.”
“Oh, save the theatrics! It’s just money. And your father agreed to it,” Tracy winked.
Now, that was a lie bigger than her future dental bill. Dad wouldn’t agree to this in a million years. He’s more likely to willingly sit through a marathon of Tracy’s favorite reality TV shows.
A furious young girl frowning | Source: Midjourney
I stormed out, slamming my bedroom door hard enough to make the house shake. I immediately called Dad, who was just as shocked as I was.
“I’ll talk to her,” he promised. In Dad’s terms, that meant “I’ll mention it once and hope it magically resolves itself.”
A few weeks later, Tracy got her veneers. She strutted around the house like she was America’s Next Top Model, flashing her new teeth at every opportunity. It was like living with a deranged lighthouse.
A young lady talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, Kristen,” she cooed one evening, “don’t forget to smile at your little tutoring class. Although,” she paused, giving me a once-over, “maybe you should keep your mouth closed. You wouldn’t want to scare those kids away with those ugly alligator teeth of yours!”
I bit my tongue so hard I thought I might need veneers myself. “Right,” I muttered. “Because blowing five grand on fake choppers is totally normal, yeah?”
Tracy’s eyes narrowed. “Watch it, Missy. Remember who puts a roof over your head.”
“Pretty sure that’s still Dad,” I shot back, slamming the door behind me.
A closed door upstairs | Source: Pexels
A month after her “transformation,” Tracy decided to throw a BBQ to show off her new chompers to the entire neighborhood. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion but with more potato salad.
“Ladies, gather ’round!” Tracy announced on the fateful day, clinking her wine glass with a spoon. “I simply must tell you about my transformation!”
Yeah, more like a sci-fi metamorphosis from yellow-stained vampire fangs to a Hollywood smile! I rolled my eyes so hard I could practically see my brain.
A smiling senior woman holding a wine glass and bottle | Source: Pexels
“It’s all thanks to the marvelous Dr. Kapoor,” Tracy gushed. “He’s not just a dentist, he’s an artist! A smile sculptor! A tooth whisperer!”
“Did he whisper to your wallet too?” I muttered under my breath.
Tracy continued, oblivious to my sarcasm. “And of course, some smart investments made it all possible!”
I nearly choked on my lemonade. Smart investments? Is that what we’re calling theft these days?
Two elegantly dressed women laughing | Source: Pexels
Just then, Tracy set her wine glass down and reached for a piece of corn on the cob. “You know, ladies, life is all about taking chances and—”
C-R-A-C-K!
The sound echoed across the backyard like a gunshot. Tracy’s eyes went wide, her hand flying to her mouth faster than you could say “dental disaster.”
“Oh my God, Tracy! Are you okay?” one of her friends gasped.
But Tracy was far from okay. There, nestled in the butter of her corn on the cob, was one of her precious veneers and whatever was left of her rotten tooth. The gap in her smile was so big, it could swallow a whole lollipop!
Close-up of a shocked woman with a missing tooth | Source: Midjourney
“I… I…” Tracy stammered, suddenly sounding like she was auditioning for the role of Sylvester the Cat. “Ekthcuthe me!”
She bolted into the house, leaving behind a yard full of bewildered guests and one very satisfied stepdaughter trying desperately not to burst into maniacal laughter.
The aftermath was more glorious than I could have imagined. Tracy became a dental hermit, refusing to leave the house. When she finally called Dr. Kapoor, I overheard a conversation that was music to my ears and nails on a chalkboard to hers.
A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney
“What do you mean it’ll cotht more to fikth?” Tracy shrieked into the phone. “Thith ith your fault! You thaid thethe were top quality!”
Turns out, Tracy had opted for the bargain basement veneers. The cherry on the cake? She would have to pay a hefty chunk to redo the whole veneer! Karma, as they say, is a witch with a capital B, and she had just given Tracy a dental spanking.
Dad, finally growing a backbone (I checked outside for flying pigs), confronted Tracy that evening.
“We need to talk about Kristen’s college fund,” he said, his voice firm (for the first time in a very looooong time! Way to go, Daddy!)
A senior man frowning | Source: Midjourney
Tracy, still hiding her broken smile behind her hand, tried to deflect. “Bob, honey, now’th not the thime. Can’t you thee I’m in a crithith?”
Dad stood his ground. “Crisis? You? No, Tracy. This ends now. You’re going to pay back every cent you took from Kristen’s fund. And if you can’t… well, I think we need to reevaluate this whole situation.”
For the first time since I’d known her, Tracy looked genuinely scared. It was like watching a deer in the headlights (if the deer had really bad dental work and a speech impediment!)
A serious-looking senior woman sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels
In the weeks that followed, Tracy became a recluse that would make even the most solitary monk seem like a party animal.
The neighborhood buzzed with gossip about her “dental disaster,” and she couldn’t show her face without someone asking about her “million-dollar thmile.”
As for me? Well, Dad made good on his promise. He’s been working overtime to rebuild my college fund, and Tracy’s been suspiciously quiet about her spending habits.
Close-up of a man holding money | Source: Pexels
I guess it’s hard to argue when you sound like you’re trying to whistle through a mouthful of marbles.
The other day, I caught her staring longingly at a magazine ad for dental implants. I couldn’t resist the opportunity for a little payback.
“Hey, Tracy,” I called out, flashing her my perfectly imperfect “alligator-tooth” smile. “Need thome invethment advithe?”
She scowled and stomped off, but I swear I saw Dad trying to hide a smirk.
A young lady standing in a room | Source: Midjourney
So yeah, my stepmom stole $5,000 from my college fund for a set of fake teeth that made her sound like she was auditioning for the role of the Big Bad Wolf with a speech impediment. But in the end? Karma gave her something to really chew on…
And me? I learned that sometimes, the most valuable things in life aren’t the ones you can buy. They’re the lessons you learn along the way, and the satisfaction of watching justice being served, one broken veneer at a time.
A young lady lying in bed | Source: Midjourney
Plus, I now have enough material to write a bestselling memoir: From Fangs to Fortune: How My Stepmom’s Dental Disaster Saved My College Fund.” How is it?
And who knows? Maybe I’ll even dedicate it to Tracy. After all, without her, I wouldn’t have this toothsome tale to tell.
A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney
My Husband Missed the Birth of Our First Child — After Discharge, I Returned to an Empty House and a Creepy Note in the Crib
When Elena is in hospital, ready to give birth to her and Michael’s first baby, she finds herself alone with her mother. Michael was simply nowhere to be found. Upon discharge, Elena walks into the house hoping to find Michael there with an explanation. Instead, she finds a note from Michael blaming Elena’s mother for his disappearance. Where is Michael and what happened?
I always thought that the happiest day of my life was the day I married Michael. But then we found out that I was pregnant, and I figured that the day I gave birth to our baby was going to be the happiest.
A woman holding a pregnancy test | Source: Midjourney
Little did I know that it would be the beginning of a nightmare. Michael had promised me that he would be there, holding my hand as we welcomed our first child into the world.
We had planned every detail together, from the music that would play in the delivery room to the tiny hat he would place on our baby’s head.
But when the time came, Michael just wasn’t there.
A pregnant woman sitting on a hospital chair | Source: Midjourney
I remember the nurses’ sympathetic smiles as they assured me that he was probably just delayed. With each passing minute, the sinking feeling in my stomach grew worse.
I had been calling him for hours, leaving desperate voicemails, but there was no response. As the contractions intensified, so did my fear. Was I really about to do this by myself? What could have kept him from being here?
A close up of a worried woman | Source: Midjourney
“Come on, Michael,” I said through gritted teeth.
When my daughter arrived, I was overwhelmed with joy, but it was tainted by the empty spot beside me where my husband should have been. Where was Michael? Why hadn’t he shown up?
My mother was with me throughout, holding my hand when Michael should have been, but I could see the worry in her eyes, too. And if she knew anything, she certainly didn’t tell me.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Just relax, Elena,” my mother said. “Focus on Emily now. And yourself; your body needs a moment.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m just worried.”
After two days in the hospital, I was finally discharged. My mother helped me carry Emily to the car, and we headed home. The ride was silent, and my mother kept drumming her fingers against the steering wheel.
A close up of a woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
I tried to keep myself calm, telling myself that there must be a reasonable explanation for Michael’s absence. Maybe something happened at work. Maybe he’d had an accident and was away in another hospital.
The scenarios grew wilder with each mile we drove.
But nothing could have prepared me for what I found when we got home.
The driveway leading to a house | Source: Midjourney
The house was eerily quiet. I pushed open the door, half-expecting Michael to be waiting inside with some excuse that I could forgive after seeing the look on his face.
“Michael?” I called out, my voice echoing through the empty rooms. “Michael, are you here?”
No answer.
A postpartum woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
“Be quiet, Elena,” my mother said. “Emily is sleeping.”
I ignored her and hurried upstairs. I had to check the nursery; maybe he was in there, just waiting for us to come home. We had spent weeks perfecting our daughter’s nursery to exactly how I envisioned it throughout my pregnancy.
But when I opened the door to the nursery, my breath caught in my throat.
A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
The room was almost empty. The crib was there, but all the decorations, the stuffed animals, our daughter’s outfits, and the blankets we had lovingly chosen together were gone. All that remained was a single piece of paper, placed neatly inside the crib.
I love you and our baby, Elena. But I have to leave forever. Ask your mom why she did this. I’ve taken some of Emily’s things to remember you both.
A piece of paper in an empty crib | Source: Midjourney
I stared at the note, my mind struggling to make sense of the words. What did Michael mean? Why did he have to leave? And what did my mother have to do with any of this?
“Mom!” I shouted, trying to get down the stairs as fast as my postpartum body would allow. I clutched onto the note tightly as I thundered into the living room where she was sitting on the couch with Emily asleep in her arms.
An older woman holding a newborn | Source: Midjourney
“What is this?” I demanded, thrusting the note at her. “What did you do? Where is my husband?”
She looked at me with heavy eyes. And for a moment, I saw a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place. Guilt? Regret?
“I didn’t want you to find out this way…” she said quietly.
A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney
“What? Find out what?” I nearly screamed at her. “What are you talking about? Tell me now!”
She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for what she was about to say.
“I found out something about Michael, honey. And it was just too big to keep to myself. He needed to know that I knew.”
“Knew what? Why are you talking in riddles?” I asked closing my eyes, suddenly exhausted.
A close up of a woman with closed eyes | Source: Midjourney
“He’s been having an affair, darling,” she said. “With someone from his office. Imagine the nerve.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, and I had to sit down quickly.
“No, Mom,” I found myself saying. “That can’t be true at all. Michael wouldn’t do that to us. He loves me! And he’s been so excited about our baby and growing our little family!”
A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“I wish it wasn’t true, darling. Do you think I enjoyed being right?” she asked softly. “I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. They were talking about meeting at a motel. I confronted him about it, and he admitted it. He’s been seeing his boss, a woman who’s much wealthier than we could have ever dreamed. She’s been offering him things he couldn’t refuse.”
“You mean… the promotion? It wasn’t just hard work? And the car wasn’t just because he made a big deal for the company?” I gasped.
A smiling man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney
My chest felt tight, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, tears streaming down my face as my lower pelvis ached. “Why didn’t you give me the chance to talk to him? A chance to fix it?”
“Oh, honey,” my mother said soothingly. “I gave him the chance. I told him that he had to tell you everything or leave, for good. I knew that if he told you everything, it would mean that he was still a good man with redeeming qualities. But see this? He chose to leave you, to leave Emily.”
A close up of an upset woman | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, I didn’t want to believe my mother. I wanted to believe Michael, and that there was more to this story. How else could my mother have sat there during my labor, holding my hand while knowing the truth?
It made no sense to me.
Well, one thing made sense to me. My mother had never really taken to Michael in the way I had hoped. She tolerated him and liked that he took care of me. But there was nothing beyond that. They had no other relationship beyond me.
What if my mother just wanted him out?
Unknowingly, I said all these thoughts out loud.
An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
“Really? Elena! You think I’d purposely hurt my daughter and jeopardize her relationship with her father?” my mother cried. “He hurt you by choosing to have an affair. I can tell you everything you need to know, but I need you to believe me.”
This couldn’t be happening. My husband, the man I had trusted with my life, had betrayed me, and my mother had forced him to leave without giving me the chance to even hear him out.
“You shouldn’t have taken that choice away from me,” I said. “You should have let me decide what to do!”
My mother gripped my thigh tightly.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so sorry, Elena,” she said. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want you to suffer more than you already did; this pregnancy was a lot on your body and mind, my darling.”
She seemed earnest enough, but I couldn’t help but be angry with her. All I could think about was how everything I had known, everything I had believed in, had been ripped away in an instant.
My husband was gone, and probably off with his mistress, my mother had betrayed my trust, and I was left alone with a newborn and a broken heart.
A silhouette of a couple | Source: Midjourney
Emily’s eyes opened, and before I knew it, her little mouth twisted into a cry.
“She’s hungry,” my mother said. “Maybe one day, when Emily goes through something where she needs her mother to protect her more than give her a choice, you’ll understand why I did what I did.”
I nodded.
A crying baby girl | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sure you’re right, Mom,” I said, slipping my shirt off my arm to feed my little girl. “But I need some space for a little while. I need to adjust to being a single parent right now.”
“But you’re not alone, Elena!” my mother exclaimed. “Michael may have chosen to leave you, but I’m still here. I’m right there to love and support you. And your little girl.”
“I know that,” I said. “But this is the choice I’m making.”
“I’ll make you some food and then I’ll leave,” my mother said. “Please, let me do that. Let me plan meals for a week. Okay?”
A woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Fine,” I said, grateful for the assistance even though I didn’t want to look at her.
In the days that followed our hospital return, I thought about Michael’s behavior closer. Of course he was having an affair. There were endless late nights and shared dinners with “colleagues over business.” It was clear now, that during those intimate hours, Michael and his boss were becoming closer.
I tried to contact Michael many times, but it always went to voicemail. Until one day, when he answered by accident. I could tell he had no intention of answering the phone because his voice was thick with sleep.
“Michael?” I asked.
“Elena?” he gasped.
“Is it true?” I asked.
A sleepy man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Yes. All of it,” he said. “I’m not coming back. I was excited to start my life with you and our baby, but I’ve grown to love Gretchen and our lives together. I have to give this a chance. And the least I can do is transfer the house to your name only. Gretchen’s lawyers will do it soon.”
I couldn’t believe my ears.
Michael never contacted me again, and I didn’t reach out either. He disappeared from my life as quickly as he had entered it. But at least my daughter didn’t meet him and get to experience any of that.
She was safely away from Michael.
A smiling woman holding her baby | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:
My MIL Thought I Was Cheating on Her Daughter and Tried to Teach Me a Harsh Lesson
When Mike plans a surprise weekend away for his and Steph’s anniversary, he hires an event planner to do most of the work. But when a nosy mother-in-law catches wind of Mike with another woman, things get out of control…
So, let me set a scene for you. It’s hilarious now, but it was anything but when it actually happened.
A man laughing | Source: Midjourney
I’m Mike and I’ve been happily married to my wife, Steph, for ten years. We had a perfect little life with our eight-year-old son, Jack. Steph and I are the kind of couple that people envy.
As lame as it sounds, we have been completely in sync since we got married, finishing each other’s sentences, the whole deal.
Or at least, we were until my mother-in-law, Karen, got involved.
A happy couple | Source: Midjourney
“I’m going to surprise Mom for our anniversary,” I told Jack when we were kicking a ball around outside one afternoon.
“Just don’t decide on having another kid,” Jack said, giggling as he spoke.
Well, I didn’t plan on that, but I did want to surprise Steph with a romantic weekend getaway to celebrate our anniversary.
A father and son playing with a ball | Source: Midjourney
I wanted everything to be perfect, so I hired an event planner to hold down the fort.
“Catherine,” I told her when I sat across from her in her office. “I need this weekend to be perfect. I know that it’s small scale compared to the events you plan, but I need it to be perfect for Steph. She deserves this.”
Catherine beamed, and I thought she actually looked quite beautiful. Not as beautiful as my wife, but lovely nonetheless.
A smiling woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
She was great to work with too. She was professional, attentive, and yes, attractive.
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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