I take it that everyone of us must navigate our own lives and take responsibility for our decisions? However, it is in our nature as humans to want to help friends who are actually in need. However, what would you do if your friend—the one you always stand by—started confiding in you about all of their issues, repeatedly, and with no sign of stopping? This Reddit member is exactly in that predicament. She wondered if she was managing the matter with her buddy correctly, so she looked to the large internet community for advice.
I(32F) am a single mother of two kids (6M and 5m F). I am a single mother by choice (my kids are donor conceived).
I am lucky enough to have a good job (French teacher in a private school), and a paid off house (parents’ life insurance and inheritance).
Before I had either of my kids, I made sure to have a year’s living expenses saved, then I would take a sabbatical to recover from birth, as well as bond with my kids. While on sabbatical, I still tutor some kids for some extra income.
My friend (34F), just had a baby 2 months ago. She is the breadwinner in her household, and her husband has been unemployed since he was laid off during COVID.
It was great to be pregnant at the same time, as well as having a friend with a newborn. But it has turned sour.
She has been saying how jealous she is of me being able to take off a whole year from work, how she would have loved to not worry about losing their home, how she doesn’t even have a couple hundred dollars in her savings account, let alone a whole year’s worth of living expenses….
I usually ignore it, or brush it off, because I kind of can understand the stress she is under.
Well, starting about 10 days ago, she started hinting at not being able to afford daycare, and any mention of her husband taking care of their kid is brushed off. Then she started remarking on how much free time I must have, which I deflected by saying -truthfully- that being a single mom to a baby and a small kid left me no free time actually.
Then last night she came out with it, and asked if I could “do her a favor” and watch her kid while she’s at work. I was firm, but polite, when I said that I couldn’t, that I am not capable of watching two kids under 6 months.
She started almost begging me, saying she can’t afford daycare, and if she is not back at work, she will lose her job, and they will end up homeless. I again brought up her husband, and she said that he was not good with kids, and isn’t capable of taking care of her kid.
I kept saying no, she kept pushing, until it escalated to her calling me heartless, and me telling her that it’s not my problem she chose to have a kid with a useless man.
Now she blocked me, I am feeling very guilty about what I said, and feeling like an AH.
I Noticed Things Disappearing from My Sick Mother’s House, so I Installed Hidden Cameras and What I Saw Shocked Me — Story of the Day
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.
I was scrubbing the kitchen counter after another exhausting day at work, the faint smell of bleach lingering in the air.
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The more time I spent cleaning my mother’s house, the angrier I became with my younger sister, Jane. It felt like she’d completely forgotten this was her mother too.
This wasn’t unusual for Jane. In school, she was reckless—running away, taking money from Mom’s wallet, skipping classes. Yet, no matter what, she was always forgiven.
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Jane’s brilliance seemed to excuse her flaws. She graduated with honors, earning a scholarship, and became the family’s golden child.
Now, Jane only visited Mom when she wanted something—or maybe to remind Mom of her presence so she’d stay in the will. Meanwhile, I faced the reality of Mom’s illness.
I had hired a caregiver, Nancy, but I couldn’t afford her full-time. After long shifts at work, I took care of Mom myself.
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I had asked Jane to help, but she always brushed me off. “I’m busy with work,” she’d say.
But I knew she’d been unemployed for months. I had a job, a husband, and a son who needed me too.
“Violet!” Mom called from her room. Her voice sounded sharp, almost panicked. “Violet, come here!”
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“I’m coming, Mom!” I called back, wiping my hands on a dish towel. I walked into her bedroom and saw her standing by her dresser. She was holding her jewelry box.
“My gold earrings are gone,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Are you sure you didn’t put them somewhere else?” I asked, stepping closer.
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“No. I haven’t touched this box in a long time,” Mom said. “I wanted to give you something special to keep, but when I opened it, the earrings were gone.”
“Did anyone visit today?” I asked, frowning.
“No. Nancy had the day off,” Mom said. “Only Jane came by this morning. She just wanted to check on me.”
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“I’ll ask Jane about it,” I replied.
“Don’t,” Mom said firmly. “Jane wouldn’t steal. I don’t want you two fighting again.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promised. “I just need to ask.”
After Mom went to bed, I drove to Jane’s place. My frustration had boiled over. I knocked on her door and waited. It took a while, but finally, she opened it.
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“Hi, sis,” Jane said. She stepped aside, letting me in.
“Hi,” I replied, my voice cold. I glanced around her living room. Empty delivery boxes and tools were scattered everywhere.
“Working on something?” I asked, pointing at the mess.
“Just some stuff for work,” Jane replied. “But you didn’t come here to talk about that, did you?”
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“Mom’s gold earrings are missing,” I said bluntly.
Jane folded her arms. “And you think I took them. Of course.”
“You were the only one who visited her today,” I said.
“Why would I take her earrings?” Jane asked, her tone sharp.
“Maybe because you’re broke. Maybe because you need money for some crazy stuff. Take your pick,” I snapped.
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“I have a job now! Do you even know how much I’ve done for this family?” Jane fired back.
“You’ve done nothing! I’m the one taking care of everything!” I shouted.
“I told you to hire someone full-time for Mom, but you didn’t!” Jane yelled.
“Because I’d be the one paying for it!” I screamed.
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“You don’t know what’s really going on,” Jane said.
“Then tell me!” I demanded.
“Why should I? You’ll just keep blaming me for everything!” Jane said. She turned away. “Leave. I’m done with this.”
“Fine,” I said, slamming the door as I left.
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When I got home, Kaden was putting on his coat.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Just out for a walk,” my husband said, kissing my cheek. “Milo is asleep. Dinner’s in the fridge.” Then he walked out, leaving me in silence.
Kaden was a stay-at-home dad. We had agreed this was the best choice for our family. I spent most of my time either at work or taking care of Mom, leaving little time for anything else.
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Milo needed stability, and having Kaden at home gave him that. Even with his hands full, Kaden often stepped in to help with Mom. He never complained, and for that, I was deeply thankful.
Over the next few weeks, Mom kept complaining that things were missing.
At first, I thought she was just confused, but then I started noticing it too. Little items—jewelry, keepsakes—were gone.
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It always happened on the days Jane visited. My frustration turned into anger. How could she be so selfish?
I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I drove to Jane’s house, determined to confront her face-to-face.
Jane opened the door and stepped aside, crossing her arms. “Here to accuse me of stealing again?” she asked, her voice sharp.
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“Mom has lost more things,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Jane raised an eyebrow. “And you think I took them? Why would I?”
“Because this is how you’ve always been! You’ve done this before, and I know you need money!” I snapped.
Jane’s face hardened. “Why don’t you ask your husband what it’s like to need money?”
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“Don’t bring Kaden into this!” I shouted. “He’s the only one who actually helps me!”
Jane scoffed. “If you’re so sure, call the police. Go ahead. Do it.”
“Maybe I will!” I yelled. Without waiting for a response, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.
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Instead of calling the police, I made up my mind to install security cameras at Mom’s house.
I went to the store, picked out a set of cameras, and drove back, determined to catch whoever was taking her things.
When I walked into the house, I was surprised to see Nancy. Her shift was over hours ago.
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“What are you doing here?” I asked, setting the box of cameras on the table.
“Jane said she’d pay me to work more hours so you could get some rest,” Nancy replied, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“That doesn’t sound like her,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Why not? She’s done it before,” Nancy said, looking puzzled. “She just asked me not to tell you.”
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I stared at her, unsure what to say. It didn’t fit the picture I had of Jane, but I couldn’t argue with Nancy’s words.
I grabbed the cameras and began setting them up in the living room and Mom’s bedroom.
When I finished, I noticed a pile of new medical bills on the kitchen counter. I flipped through them and felt a lump in my throat. The amounts were enormous.
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“Nancy!” I called out. “Do you know anything about these bills? They weren’t here before.”
Nancy walked over and glanced at the papers. “Oh, they come every month. Jane usually pays them.”
Her words left me stunned. I was starting to think this was all some kind of prank.
A few days later, Mom called me from her room, her voice anxious. “My gold ring is gone,” she said.
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I felt my stomach twist. It was time to check the security cameras. I hadn’t told anyone about them—not even Mom—so whoever was taking things wouldn’t know to hide.
I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop, pulling up the footage. My heart raced as I fast-forwarded through hours of recording.
Then, I saw Jane. She was in Mom’s room, standing by the dresser. I leaned closer, certain I’d caught her.
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She opened the jewelry box and looked inside. My anger flared. But then, she closed the box and walked away without taking anything.
Relief turned to dread as the next clip played. A few hours later, Kaden appeared.
I watched in stunned silence as he walked to the jewelry box, took Mom’s gold ring, and slipped it into his pocket before leaving.
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I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. I had spent weeks blaming Jane, only to find out I had been wrong all along. My husband—my partner—was the thief.
I took the footage and drove home, my mind spinning. When I arrived, Kaden was putting on his coat, ready to leave again. I stepped in front of him, blocking the door.
“I know everything,” I said, my voice shaking.
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He looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I know you’ve been stealing from my mom,” I said, holding up the flash drive.
His face went pale. “Did Jane tell you?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“What? No! Why would Jane tell me?” I asked, anger and confusion swirling.
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Kaden sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Because I borrowed money from her. When she found out why, she stopped lending me more. She even offered to pay for rehab, but I refused. Then she caught me taking your mom’s jewelry.”
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. “I can’t believe this!” I shouted. “Why? Why would you lie to me and steal from my family?”
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“I started gambling. I thought I could win it back, but I kept losing. The debts grew faster than I could handle. I borrowed more to cover the old ones,” he confessed, his voice cracking.
“How could you?!” I yelled. “I thought you were spending time with Milo, being the father he needs. Instead, you wasted my money, Jane’s money, and Mom’s things!”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Kaden said quietly.
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“And yet you didn’t stop me from blaming Jane,” I said, my anger boiling over. “You let me attack her while you hid.”
“I know. I hate myself for it,” Kaden said, his eyes downcast. “I’m ashamed.”
“I want you to leave,” I said firmly.
“Do you want a divorce?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
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“I don’t know. What I do know is I can’t look at you right now. Pack your things tomorrow while I’m at work. I’ll text you when I’m ready to talk.”
He nodded slowly, tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Violet. I love you and Milo so much,” he whispered before leaving.
As soon as the door closed, I broke down, tears pouring down my face. After checking on Milo, who was sound asleep, I drove to Jane’s house.
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When she opened the door, I could barely speak. “I’m sorry,” I managed, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Jane pulled me into a hug without hesitation.
“And thank you,” I said through sobs. “For everything. Even for helping Kaden.”
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“I didn’t do it for him,” Jane said softly. “I did it for you, Violet.”
“Please forgive me, please,” I begged.
“It’s okay. I’ll always be here for you,” Jane said, holding me tightly.
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