12/07/2024
MY ONLY DAUGHTER SLAMMED THE DOOR IN FRONT OF MY NOSE WHEN I CAME TO HER HOME WITH CINNAMON BUNS TO SURPRISE HER.
I raised my daughter, Anna, alone. Every sacrifice I made—skipping meals, working double shifts—was for her. When she married Jason and moved to the city, we talked every day, sharing laughs and recipes. But lately, something felt… off. Our calls became rare, short, and she sounded disturbed.
Last weekend, I decided to surprise her. I baked her favorite cinnamon buns and hopped on a train, excited to see her. But when she opened the door, the look on her face stopped me cold.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” she whispered, slipping out and shutting the door behind her.
“I wanted to see you! I brought your favorite buns.”
Her eyes darted nervously. “You can’t be here,” she said, voice trembling. “Mom, just… go.”
“Anna, what’s going on? Is Jason—”
“Mom, I said GO!” she snapped. Before I could respond, she slammed the door in my face.
I froze. My daughter had just locked me out. My heart shattered, but I wasn’t leaving without answers. I hid in the hallway, waiting for a clue.
Hours later, the door creaked open. Anna stepped out, looking pale, her eyes red and puffy. My stomach churned. I rushed to the door and rushed inside.
My knees nearly gave out over the scene inside. “Anna, is this some kind of a cruel joke?” ⬇️ See less See less