A rude millionaire who believed money could buy anything demolished a poor old man’s house to build a mall. While checking the ruins later, he accidentally found his childhood photo among the rubble.
Can a person’s greed for riches blind them so miserably that they destroy someone else’s dreams to build theirs? In July 2021, Florida-based real estate tycoon Elliot Morris happened to shatter a poor old man’s dreams to fulfill his pursuit of wealth.
Elliot was looking for a perfect landscape to build a deluxe mall in the city when his eyes fell upon old Joe Brooke’s land. The young builder loved the location and fixed his mind to raising his new mall there.
He decided to tear down the old man’s house on the plot. When old Joe objected to it, Elliot saw him as nothing more than a thorn in his way that was easy to get rid of…
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“Please, I beg of you. I don’t have anybody, and this house is the only treasured memory I have of my late wife,” Joe begged Elliot, who had visited with his men. “I have nowhere to go. Please don’t make me homeless.”
“How did you get my mom’s photo?” the man asked old Joe. “That’s me with her. Do you know my mom? What is your relationship with her?”
But Elliot turned a deaf ear to the poor old man’s pleas. “Look here, old man. I already talked to the mayor, and he is on my side. I’m bringing this thing down in two weeks. All you’ve got is 14 days to pack your stuff and leave with whatever money I give you. Is it clear?”
Poor Joe was worried. He refused to accept a dime in exchange for his beloved house and kept crying. But Elliot was far from kind and walked away, grinning. “Two weeks and I’ll be back,” Joe heard the rude rich man’s faint voice from outside.
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Joe’s house was a bit farther away from his clustered neighborhood, so nobody stepped forward in his favor. The two weeks were nothing short of nightmarish for the poor old man. He hoped something would happen and change the rich man’s mind. He anticipated a miracle and never packed his things. But before he knew it, the day for the demolition had arrived.
“Please, I beg you! Please don’t destroy my house!” old Joe pleaded with Elliot and his men, who arrived two weeks later with heavy machinery outside his house to tear it down.
“Didn’t I tell you to pack your things?” Elliot retorted. “It’s not my problem anymore. Here, take this check and leave. I don’t have time to listen to your silly, old stories.”
Elliot ordered one of his men to take old Joe to the nursing facility. He handed out the check for the house, but the old man refused to take it.
Before leaving, a teary-eyed Joe looked at Elliot and said, “You’ve changed a lot, young man. Money has blinded you and ruined your soul…You cannot buy everything with money.”
“What rubbish! Take this old man from here,” Elliot ordered. He brushed Joe’s words as nothing and walked further to watch the house being torn down. Joy filled his heart as he saw the bricks and roof chipping away from the building, crashing onto the ground.
“I’ll be back in a while. Keep working, and do not touch anything until I arrive,” he said, driving past the dusty house in ruins.
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That evening, Elliot returned to the demolished spot to celebrate his feat. “Getting rid of that old thorn was so easy!” he exclaimed as he walked over the broken bricks.
Just then, he stumbled upon the broken glass of a photo frame. He looked at the photo and gasped in shock.
“Mom? What is her photo doing here?” he said, picking up the picture. Elliot dusted it and realized it was an old photo of his mom with a baby.
“That’s me,” he exclaimed again. “But what is our photo doing in this old man’s house? I have to find out,” he said and immediately drove to the nursing home to see Joe.
“You? Why have you come here? Aren’t you happy yet?” the old man cried after seeing the young builder. “What more have you come to destroy?”
Joe refused to look at Elliot, who held his hand and showed him the photo he’d recovered from the demolished ruins.
“How did you get my mom’s photo?” he asked. “That’s me with her. Do you know my mom? What is your relationship with her?” Elliot was furious. He had known that his mother was a single parent, and finding her picture in Joe’s house raised many questions in his mind. “Tell me…how do you know my mother?”
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Joe, who remained silent, finally spoke out, revealing something Elliot never knew.
“I found your mother Samantha on the road with a baby in her arms 30 years ago,” Joe said. “I was on my way home from my wife’s funeral and found your mom hopeless and drenched in the rain while trying to protect you.”
As Elliot heard this, tears slowly started to fill his eyes. “Then what happened?” he curiously asked.
“I took her in and gave her shelter. Her boyfriend, your dad, had kicked her out for another woman,” Joe narrated. “Samantha lived in my house for five years, and I treated her like my daughter.”
“But if she lived with you, why did she move out? We had a bigger house,” Elliot asked, still doubtful of old Joe’s revelation. “Is there something I’m missing?”
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“I bought her a new house and helped her start a small business from my savings. She grew into a successful businesswoman but never forgot this old man. Samantha often visited me until she died ten years ago,” Joe explained. “I had also been to her funeral, but who would notice this poor, old man. You had grown into a successful, rich man, and I was happy to see how she raised you.”
At this point, Elliot’s heart broke. He recalled his mother once telling him about a loving father who was behind her success. But all this while, he had no idea that she had been talking about old Joe.
Guilty and heartbroken, Elliot decided to mend his mistake. The next day, he put up an “Under Construction” board on Joe’s property and ordered his men to build a new house there. In less than four months, a beautiful home replaced the one he demolished.
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Elliot gifted this house to Joe and apologized to him for being so ignorant and forgetful of his past. He also promised to do his best to return the old man’s kindness. But the humble man he was, Joe forgave the young builder and refused any form of help.
“You are my grandson, and I will accept only this house from you, and nothing more. I do not expect any material help from you other than your love,” Joe said, creating a massive impact on Elliot. “You are always welcome to visit this old man as my grandson, not as a wealthy man filled with guilt. Even your mom wanted to help me, and I had told her the same!”
Joe happily moved back to his new house and lived a modest life. He inspired Elliot and taught him that money perishes but not compassion and love.
In the end, Elliot built a couple of retirement homes for older adults in the city. He helped people in need and never tore down another house that belonged to someone else unless they were willing.
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What can we learn from this story?
- Do not ruin someone else’s happiness to build your dreams. In Elliot’s efforts to build his mall, he destroyed old Joe’s beloved house. He did not consider the old man’s pleas and ruined his happiness to fulfill his own.
- Create something useful for others when you get a chance. When Elliot realized his mistake, he apologized to Joe and built a house for him. And because he had the resources, he did his best to help the needy.
I Heard a Woman on the Radio Dedicating a Love Song to My Husband — A Week Later, I Was the One Calling the Station
I froze when I tuned into the local radio livestream. A woman requested a special love song for my husband, dedicating it to their first anniversary. A week later, I called the same station, but for a reason my husband could never have imagined.
So, it was one of those nights where everything just felt heavy. It was pouring rain. My nerves were shot, and I just wanted to be home with a cup of chamomile tea.
As I was fiddling with the radio, trying to find something to drown out my thoughts, I stumbled upon our local DJ, Max. His goofy banter was a bit of a comfort. Then, as one of my favorite songs, “One Love,” ended, Max announced a new caller…
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“Alright folks, up next is Jessie! Who are you dedicating this song to, sweetheart?”
Jessie giggled. “Hi Max! This one goes out to the most amazing man I’ve ever met, my Ori-bear. We’ve been together a whole year now, and I can’t believe how lucky I am!”
I couldn’t help but smile. I was in love too. But then she said:
“He might get embarrassed, but everyone calls him Mr. Lamber. This song goes out to you, Oric. ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ is exactly how you make me feel!”
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My heart stopped. Oric? That’s my husband’s name, and it’s pretty unique. The odds of another Oric alias Mr. Lamber seemed impossible. My stomach turned.
I pulled over, my hands shaking. “Oh my God… is he… is he having an affair?” I whispered, hoping the universe had played some kind of twisted joke on me.
But deep down, I knew. The song, the name, it all clicked into place. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sat there, the DJ’s voice and the song’s cheesy lyrics stabbing at my heart.
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Memories flooded back: Oric’s late nights at the office, the missed dinners, the faint scent of unfamiliar perfume. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was just sit there, numb.
Then my phone buzzed. It was Oric: “Sorry, hon! I’ll be late tonight. Have some important work! XOXO.”
Important work. Yeah, right. I knew exactly what “important work” Oric would be attending to tonight.
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He wasn’t going to get away with this. If this little radio charade was indeed proof of his infidelity, I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The rest of the night was a blur.
I tried to eat, but my stomach wouldn’t let me. I just sat there on the bed, staring at my phone, waiting for a sign that this was all some huge misunderstanding.
At 3:45 AM, I heard his car. I pretended to sleep as he quietly came into the room. I wanted to confront him, to scream, but I held back. I needed to be sure.
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Morning arrived, and so did my suspicion. I called in sick, a flimsy excuse of a headache escaping my lips.
“Ah, darling, I want a break! Thought we could take a long drive,” I turned to Oric. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape. My eyes were drilling into his, looking for hints. Any guesses about what he said?
“Actually, Suzanna,” Oric stammered, “I have a crucial client meeting this morning. Big deal, you know!” He offered a sheepish apology, suggesting a shopping spree with friends as an alternative.
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As he rummaged for his keys, I swooped in, casually picking up his phone from the coffee table.
A flush crept up his neck as he lunged for it. I held it out of reach, amusement flickering in my eyes as I swiped the screen. “Changed the password, Oric?” I turned to him.
“It’s just work stuff, honey,” he offered, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “You wouldn’t be interested, trust me. Boring stuff, you know!”
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“Isn’t that what we promised?” I countered, my gaze unwavering. “No secrets, remember?”
A weak laugh escaped his lips. “Businessmen have to keep certain things confidential, sweetheart. You wouldn’t understand.”
I met his gaze, the smile fading from my face. “Oh, is that it, Oric? Businessmen? Or something else entirely?”
He avoided my eyes. Well, how could he muster the courage to face me?
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“I, uh, I’ll give you the password later,” he then mumbled, snatching his phone back.
Later? The word sent a cold dread spiraling down my spine. Later meant enough time to disappear… to erase any incriminating evidence.
Offering a smirk, I then started sorting laundry. That’s when I noticed something strange: a long, brunette hair clinging to Oric’s collar. I was blonde. A brunette hair on my husband’s shirt screamed a story I wasn’t quite prepared to hear.
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“Oric!” I called, holding the offending strand aloft.
“What’s that, honey?” He came running.
“This,” I said, thrusting the hair under his nose. “Found it on your shirt. Care to explain?”
He took one glance, then shrugged dismissively. “Probably someone brushed against me on the bus last night.”
“The bus? Weren’t you taking the car?” I held his gaze.
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His eyes darted to the pristine black SUV parked outside. “Uh, yeah, but it broke down halfway. Took the bus to a mechanic, then he towed it.”
A lie tangled with another.
“Hold on, Oric,” I cut him off. “We both know that’s a lie. Spill it. Which mechanic did you actually take the car to?”
He avoided my gaze. Before I could unleash the full force of my anger, he mumbled something about being late. A hurried peck on the cheek, and he was out the door, briefcase clutched tightly.
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The day stretched on, suspicion gnawing at my insides. No calls, no texts, just the burning ache of betrayal and a hollow feeling in my gut. Finally, at 6 p.m., a text arrived:
“Dinner with clients. Don’t wait up. XOXO .“
The once-endearing emojis now felt like a stinging slap.
The next morning, the bed was empty, a chilling absence where Oric’s warmth should have been. In its place, two missed calls and a voice message on my phone:
“Hey babe, just a quick heads-up. Short business trip with a client. Back in five days. Love you, miss you. Mwah!”
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Five days. Five days to stew in this agonizing uncertainty. But one thing was clear: this trip wasn’t about business. It was a desperate attempt to escape the truth, a truth I was determined to unearth.
“Five days,” I muttered, quickly ringing Oric. “We’ll see about that.”
All my calls went unanswered. I grabbed the car keys and the next thing I knew, I was outside Oric’s office building.
The receptionist, a woman with a nametag that read “Sarah,” offered a tight smile. “Can I help you?”
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“Hi Sarah, I’m Suzanna. Is my husband, Oric, in the office today? He mentioned a last-minute business trip, and I was hoping to get some details.” Her smile faltered and said:
“Uh, Mrs. Lamber, actually, Mr. Lamber hasn’t been in all week.”
My stomach lurched. A concerned frown creased Sarah’s brow. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” I lied through gritted teeth, rushing out of the lobby and to my car.
Where was he? Was he with her? My head pounded with a million questions, each one sharper than the last.
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Five days crawled by. Every unanswered text, every silent phone call, chipped away at the last vestiges of hope.
Then, one evening, the front door creaked open. Oric stood there, exhaustion etched on his face. He wore a casual outfit I’d never seen before.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbled, offering a tired smile. “Sorry about that. Last-minute deal. Had to stay with a client to finalize everything.” I crossed my arms, not believing a word.
“That’s quite a story, Oric. Especially since I visited your office and found out a little truth. Where were you exactly? Spill it.”
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The smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear in his eyes. “You… you went to the office?”
“Just a little fact-finding mission, honey!” I said. “You wouldn’t believe the fun facts I learned.”
He started to stammer. “What are you talking about, babe? Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course, I do!” I echoed. “Oh, Oric, you have no idea what kind of surprise I have planned for you.” His eyes darted between me and the door. “Surprise?”
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“Oh yes,” I purred, pushing him playfully towards the bedroom. “Get ready, honey. You’re going to love it.”
He followed me, brow furrowed in confusion. But for the first time in days, a sliver of hope bloomed in my chest. The truth would come out, and tonight, the tables were finally about to turn.
“Just you wait,” I playfully whispered. “This surprise is going to be epic. You’re gonna love it, babe!”
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Minutes later, Oric emerged from the bedroom in a crisp blue suit.
He leaned in for a kiss, but I held him at bay. “Patience, honey,” I murmured. “The best things are worth waiting for.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion, but he followed me out to the car without further comment. As I pulled out of the driveway, a mischievous glint gleamed in my eyes.
“Let’s make a quick stop,” I announced, taking a detour towards his parents’ house.
Oric’s jaw dropped when he saw them waiting on the porch, smiles plastered on their faces.
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“Babe, what’s going on?” he exclaimed.
“Surprise!” his parents chorused, bustling towards the car.
My MIL squeezed into the back seat, beaming at me. “Suzanna, dear, this is wonderful! It’s been ages since we’ve all had dinner together. With Oric always so busy with work…”
I glanced at him, a pointed look in my eyes. “Yeah, right!” I said, my voice dripping with irony. “Mr. Lamber here is swamped these days.”
Oric let out a sheepish laugh, clearly bewildered by this sudden turn of events.
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As I drove to the restaurant, a glance at the dashboard clock confirmed it was showtime. I tuned the radio to the familiar station, DJ Max’s cheerful voice filling the car.
“Alright folks, welcome back! Up next is Emma, and she’s dedicating a song to the love of her life. And here we go! Enjoy the track, folks!” he chirped.
As the last notes of the love song faded away, the DJ prompted the next song’s dedication. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number for the radio station.
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As soon as a cheery voice answered, I blurted out, “Hi, this is Suzanna. I’d like to dedicate a song with a special message to my husband, Oric.”
“Whoa there, Suzanna,” the DJ boomed. “Sounds like there’s a story behind this special song dedication! Mind sharing it with our listeners?”
A flush crept up Oric’s neck.
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Taking another deep breath, I plunged into the story. I spoke of the betrayal, the shattered trust, the way I’d stumbled upon the truth, a truth that had left me reeling.
As I spoke, I stole a glance at Oric. The color had drained from his face, replaced by a sickly pallor. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, his gaze desperately pleading with me to stop but I continued:
“And there’s more. It seems Oric’s little secret wasn’t so secret after all. Thanks to his… ‘special friend’ who called in last week to dedicate a love song, his infidelity is out in the open. And let me tell you, Oric’s parents deserve to know exactly what kind of son they’ve raised!”
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The DJ fell silent for a moment. Then, a gentle sympathy seeped into his voice. “Suzanna, that’s a story that deserves to be heard. We can only imagine the pain you’re going through right now. Thanks for calling and here’s a song that might echo a little bit of what you’re feeling.”
As a heartbreaking ballad filled the airwaves, I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. I got out of the car and left Oric and his bewildered parents scrambling to keep up.
I settled at a familiar table by the window. This was the same table where we’d shared our first date, filled with hopes and dreams that now lay shattered on the floor.
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Without a word, I slipped off my wedding ring. Slamming it on the table, I met Oric’s pleading gaze. “Consider this my treat,” I finally declared, “for our upcoming divorce.”
The clatter of the ring on the table echoed in the sudden silence. Oric’s parents, mouths agape, stared between me and their son, their faces etched with dawning horror.
“Suzanna, honey, what’s going on?” Oric’s mother stammered. “What did Oric do?”
“Ask your beloved son who’s playing innocent,” I countered. “The radio said it all.”
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Oric, desperation etched on his face, reached for me. “Suzanna, please,” he pleaded. “Let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like.”
But the words rang hollow. The blind trust I’d placed in him, the years of love and devotion, all felt like a cruel joke as I said:
“There’s nothing left to explain. This marriage is over.”
His father, a stern-looking man with a salt-and-pepper beard, finally found his voice. “Oric,” he boomed, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Is this true? What Suzanna says? Were you having an extramarital affair?”
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Oric mumbled something incoherent, his gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal.
“Don’t lie to your father,” his mother snapped. “We deserve the truth.”
Shame finally flickered in Oric’s eyes. He hung his head, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. “There is someone else,” he finally confessed. “But it meant nothing. It was a mistake.”
“A mistake that destroyed our trust, our future,” I choked out. “You lied to me, Oric. For how long? How would you feel if I did this to you?”
He remained silent. But his damn silence wasn’t gonna fix things.
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“I can’t stay here,” I declared. “I need some air.”
With a final, withering glance at Oric, I pushed myself away from the table and walked out of the restaurant, the clatter of the wedding ring against the table echoing in my wake.
It broke my heart to do this, but tell me, was what he did right? Did I deserve to live a life of lies with a man who not only cheated on me but also wished to keep me in the dark all my life?
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Here’s another story about how a woman unraveled her husband’s secret when their daughter chirped about her new teacher, “Daddy has a picture of her!”
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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