My husband walked out on me and our three children on a rainy Thursday morning.<\/p>\n
Our youngest was barely two. My middle child was three, and our oldest had just turned five.<\/p>\n
I remember standing in the doorway, holding our youngest against my hip while my husband dragged his suitcase toward the car.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaniel, you can’t just leave,\u201d I pleaded. \u201cWe have three children. We have bills. We have a family.\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn’t even turn around.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can’t live like this anymore, Emily.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then he drove away.<\/p>\n
He left me with three children under six, no job, almost no money, and no family nearby who could help.<\/p>\n
That evening, I opened our bank account and discovered that the little money we had was nearly gone. The rent was due in six days. The refrigerator held half a carton of milk, a few eggs, and some leftovers.<\/p>\n
I sat on the kitchen floor after the children fell asleep and cried into my hands.<\/p>\n
But I couldn’t stay there.<\/p>\n
The next morning, I began applying for jobs.<\/p>\n
I applied at grocery stores, restaurants, gas stations, warehouses, and cleaning companies. I walked into businesses with my r\u00e9sum\u00e9 printed on cheap paper and a smile I had to force onto my face.<\/p>\n
I explained that I was dependable, willing to work, and ready to start immediately.<\/p>\n
Again and again, I heard the same words.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe need someone with experience.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can’t accommodate your schedule.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe’ve decided to go with another candidate.\u201d<\/p>\n
After my forty-first rejection, I sat in my car outside a supermarket and stared at the steering wheel.<\/p>\n
Forty-one times.<\/p>\n
I had been told no so many times that I began to wonder whether anyone would ever give me a chance.<\/p>\n
Then I noticed a small sign taped inside the window of a roadside motel.<\/p>\n
HOUSEKEEPING STAFF NEEDED. APPLY WITHIN.<\/p>\n
I walked inside.<\/p>\n
The owner, Mr. Harris, was a tired-looking man in his sixties. He asked whether I had experience cleaning hotel rooms.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot professionally,\u201d I admitted. \u201cBut I know how to work hard, and I won’t let you down.\u201d<\/p>\n
He studied me for a moment.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan you start tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n
I nearly cried.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was my forty-second attempt.<\/p>\n
And it changed my life.<\/p>\n
The job paid little, but it was a beginning. The problem was the schedule. Most of the available shifts were overnight, and childcare cost more than I could afford.<\/p>\n
I was trapped between two impossible choices: pay for childcare with money I didn’t have, or lose the job that was keeping us fed.<\/p>\n
I tried asking around for help. I looked for assistance programs and affordable childcare. I called every number I could find.<\/p>\n
But nothing came together quickly enough.<\/p>\n
For a short period, I made a desperate and unsafe decision. I left my five-year-old son, Noah, in charge of his younger siblings while I worked overnight shifts.<\/p>\n
I knew he was far too young for that responsibility. Every night I left, I felt sick with worry. I hated that survival had forced me into a situation no child should have faced.<\/p>\n
I kept searching for safer arrangements, and whenever I could, I traded shifts, asked trusted adults for help, and used any available assistance to reduce the hours I had to leave them.<\/p>\n
I didn’t want that period of our lives to become normal.<\/p>\n
I wanted it to end.<\/p>\n
So I made myself a promise.<\/p>\n
One day, my children would never have to live like this again.<\/p>\n
At the motel, I worked harder than anyone expected.<\/p>\n
I cleaned rooms, changed sheets, scrubbed bathrooms, restocked supplies, and hauled laundry until my shoulders ached.<\/p>\n
Some guests left their rooms spotless. Others left behind overflowing trash cans, stained carpets, and enough mess to make me wonder what had happened during the night.<\/p>\n
I cleaned them all.<\/p>\n
I learned how to remove stubborn stains, spot maintenance problems, stretch supplies without cutting corners, and prepare a room so that a guest could walk in and feel comfortable.<\/p>\n
I learned which small details made people feel welcome: fresh towels, a spotless mirror, a working bedside lamp, and a bed made so neatly it looked untouched.<\/p>\n
I also watched the business itself.<\/p>\n
I paid attention to occupancy rates, seasonal travel patterns, supply costs, customer complaints, and the way Mr. Harris handled difficult situations.<\/p>\n
When he had trouble keeping the laundry schedule organized, I suggested a better system.<\/p>\n
When guests complained about slow check-ins, I wrote down ideas for improving the process.<\/p>\n
Mr. Harris began trusting me with more responsibility.<\/p>\n
Within two years, I was supervising housekeeping.<\/p>\n
By the third year, I was helping train new employees and tracking supply orders.<\/p>\n
But my real education began after my shifts ended.<\/p>\n
When my children were asleep and I had a safe, reliable adult available to help, I studied business management through library books, free online courses, and borrowed textbooks.<\/p>\n
I learned how to calculate operating expenses, understand cash flow, compare loan terms, and estimate the cost of renovating a property.<\/p>\n
I kept a notebook hidden in a drawer beneath my clothes.<\/p>\n
Inside it, I wrote a business plan.<\/p>\n
At first, the plan was simple: save enough money to move my children into a better home and find a job with regular hours.<\/p>\n
Then it became something bigger.<\/p>\n
I began imagining a small boutique inn\u2014a place where travelers would find clean rooms, warm lighting, comfortable beds, thoughtful service, and a personal welcome.<\/p>\n
Not a luxury hotel that tried to impress people with marble floors and gold fixtures.<\/p>\n
A beautiful, well-run inn where people felt cared for.<\/p>\n
I wanted to build something of my own.<\/p>\n
For three years, I worked on the plan in secret. I researched comparable properties, calculated renovation budgets, and built conservative financial projections.<\/p>\n
I saved what I could, paid down what little debt I had, and slowly rebuilt my credit.<\/p>\n
There were setbacks.<\/p>\n
The washing machine at home broke. One of the children needed medical care. The car needed repairs. Every unexpected expense pushed my dream further away.<\/p>\n
But I kept going.<\/p>\n
My children grew older. I eventually arranged more stable childcare and moved into a better position at the motel.<\/p>\n
Mr. Harris watched my progress with quiet interest.<\/p>\n
One evening, he found me reviewing spreadsheets in the break room.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know,\u201d he said, leaning against the doorway, \u201cmost people who clean rooms don’t spend their evenings studying the hospitality business.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my notebook.<\/p>\n
\u201cMost people who clean rooms don’t want to own a motel someday.\u201d<\/p>\n
He laughed.<\/p>\n
Then he grew serious.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon’t lose that ambition, Emily. But make sure your numbers are as strong as your dream.\u201d<\/p>\n
I never forgot that advice.<\/p>\n
Twelve years after I first walked through the motel’s doors, Mr. Harris called a staff meeting.<\/p>\n
He stood in the lobby with his hands folded in front of him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy health isn’t what it used to be,\u201d he explained. \u201cI’ve decided it’s time to retire and sell the property.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
The motel was older, and the building needed work. But I knew its strengths. I knew its weaknesses. I knew which renovations would matter most and which expensive upgrades would do little to improve the guest experience.<\/p>\n
And I knew I wanted it.<\/p>\n
That night, I pulled my business plan from the drawer.<\/p>\n
I reviewed every number.<\/p>\n
Then I added new projections for the purchase price, renovation costs, staffing, insurance, maintenance, and a reserve for unexpected expenses.<\/p>\n
I contacted a small-business lender and asked what it would take to finance the purchase.<\/p>\n
The first meeting was intimidating.<\/p>\n
I sat across from a loan officer in a room that smelled of coffee and printer paper. My hands were damp, but I kept my voice steady.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to purchase the motel where I have worked for twelve years,\u201d I explained. \u201cI understand its operations, I have a plan to improve it, and I can show you how I intend to repay the loan.\u201d<\/p>\n
The officer reviewed my proposal.<\/p>\n
She asked difficult questions about occupancy, projected revenue, operating expenses, renovation costs, and what would happen if business slowed.<\/p>\n
I answered as honestly as I could.<\/p>\n
When I didn’t know something, I admitted it and showed her how I planned to find out.<\/p>\n
Over the next several weeks, I worked with advisers to refine the financial projections, review the property’s condition, and negotiate the purchase terms.<\/p>\n
The bank didn’t approve the loan because my story was inspiring.<\/p>\n
It approved the financing after evaluating the business, the collateral, my financial position, and the risks.<\/p>\n
When the approval finally came, I sat in my car outside the bank and cried.<\/p>\n
Not because I had become rich.<\/p>\n
Because, for the first time in twelve years, the future I had imagined was becoming real.<\/p>\n
The purchase took several more months to complete.<\/p>\n
Then, one Monday morning, I signed the ownership documents.<\/p>\n
The motel belonged to me.<\/p>\n
I walked into the lobby after closing and stood beneath the old fluorescent lights.<\/p>\n
I remembered my first night cleaning rooms. I remembered the exhaustion, the fear, and the desperate promise I had made to my children.<\/p>\n
I touched the front desk.<\/p>\n
\u201cI made it,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
But buying the motel was only the beginning.<\/p>\n
I invested in new plumbing where needed, renovated the bathrooms, replaced worn flooring, upgraded the lighting, and refreshed every guest room.<\/p>\n
I chose warm neutral colors, comfortable mattresses, quality linens, and simple furniture that felt elegant without being expensive.<\/p>\n
I created a small breakfast area, improved the landscaping, and introduced a consistent cleaning and maintenance checklist.<\/p>\n
I also made sure my staff were paid fairly and given proper training.<\/p>\n
I knew what it felt like to work hard while being treated as though you were invisible.<\/p>\n
I refused to build my dream on the backs of people who were struggling the way I once had.<\/p>\n
Over time, the roadside motel became a boutique inn with a new name: The Willow House.<\/p>\n
Travelers began leaving reviews praising the clean rooms, friendly staff, and personal service.<\/p>\n
Business improved steadily, though not without challenges. Some months were stronger than others. Repairs still cost money, and I had to keep a close eye on cash flow.<\/p>\n
But the business was becoming sustainable.<\/p>\n
My children were teenagers by then.<\/p>\n
They knew I had worked hard, but they didn’t know every detail of what I had endured. I wanted them to understand the value of perseverance without feeling responsible for the hardships of their childhood.<\/p>\n
When Noah turned seventeen, I finally told him more about those early years.<\/p>\n
He listened quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI’m sorry you had to do all that alone,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
I took his hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cI made mistakes, too. There were times I was so desperate that I made choices I wish I could change. But I kept looking for safer ways forward, and we made it through.\u201d<\/p>\n
He hugged me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou built all this from nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot nothing,\u201d I said. \u201cI had a reason to keep going. And I learned from every person who gave me a chance.\u201d<\/p>\n
I thought my hardest chapter was behind me.<\/p>\n
Then came last month.<\/p>\n
It was a Friday afternoon, and I was checking reservations at the front desk when a dark SUV pulled into the parking lot.<\/p>\n
A man stepped out, followed by a stylish woman carrying a designer handbag.<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
My heart stopped.<\/p>\n
It was Daniel.<\/p>\n
My ex-husband.<\/p>\n
The man who had walked out when our children were little, leaving me to figure out how to keep them fed and housed.<\/p>\n
He looked older, with a little gray at his temples. His wife, Vanessa, was laughing at something on her phone as they approached the entrance.<\/p>\n
They had no idea who owned the inn.<\/p>\n
I could have stepped into the back office.<\/p>\n
I could have asked a staff member to check them in.<\/p>\n
Instead, I straightened my jacket and waited behind the desk.<\/p>\n
Daniel approached with the casual confidence of a man who assumed the world would make room for him.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi,\u201d he said. \u201cWe have a reservation under Daniel Carter.\u201d<\/p>\n
I checked the booking.<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
Two nights in Room 108.<\/p>\n
The very room I had cleaned hundreds of times when I was a struggling single mother working overnight shifts.<\/p>\n
I smiled professionally.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course, Mr. Carter. Welcome to The Willow House.\u201d<\/p>\n
He glanced around the lobby.<\/p>\n
\u201cNice place. Recently renovated?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I replied. \u201cThe owner has invested quite a bit in the property.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vanessa placed her handbag on the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt’s lovely,\u201d she said. \u201cMuch nicer than the places we usually stay on road trips.\u201d<\/p>\n
I handed Daniel the registration form.<\/p>\n
He signed it without looking closely at the name printed at the top.<\/p>\n
Then I prepared the room key and slid it across the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cRoom 108. Checkout is at eleven. Enjoy your stay.\u201d<\/p>\n
He took the key.<\/p>\n
Then he looked up.<\/p>\n
His smile disappeared.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily?\u201d<\/p>\n
I met his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello, Daniel.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stared at me as if he had seen a ghost.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI work here.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vanessa looked between us.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou two know each other?\u201d<\/p>\n
Daniel didn’t answer.<\/p>\n
I did.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe were married. We have three children together.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vanessa’s face changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re his ex-wife?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Daniel finally found his voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn’t know you were working here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI did work here,\u201d I corrected gently. \u201cI started in housekeeping twelve years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
He glanced around the lobby again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait. You still work here?\u201d<\/p>\n
I folded my hands on the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot exactly.\u201d<\/p>\n
Before I could say more, Vanessa noticed a framed document hanging behind the reception desk. It listed the inn’s ownership information and the date the property had been acquired.<\/p>\n
She read the name aloud.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily Carter?\u201d<\/p>\n
Daniel turned toward the document.<\/p>\n
Then he looked back at me.<\/p>\n
His face drained of color.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou own this place?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI do.\u201d<\/p>\n
He laughed once, nervously, as if he expected me to tell him it was a joke.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, seriously. You bought the motel?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI bought the property from Mr. Harris, secured financing, renovated it, and built the business you’re standing in.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stared at the framed ownership certificate.<\/p>\n
For a long moment, he didn’t speak.<\/p>\n
Then he whispered, \u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
I could have told him about every rejection. Every exhausted night. Every bill I had worried over. Every time I had sat in a dark room after the children were asleep, trying to make a business plan work.<\/p>\n
But I didn’t owe him the whole story.<\/p>\n
\u201cI worked,\u201d I said. \u201cI learned. I saved. I made a plan, and I followed it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vanessa looked at the room key in Daniel’s hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cDaniel, you told me your ex-wife had moved away and was doing fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am doing fine,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She looked embarrassed.<\/p>\n
Daniel stepped closer to the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily, I had no idea. If I’d known you were doing this well, maybe we could have\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCould have what?\u201d<\/p>\n
He stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cTalked,\u201d he said. \u201cCaught up. Maybe put the past behind us.\u201d<\/p>\n
I held his gaze.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can be civil. We can talk about the children when necessary. But don’t confuse my success with an invitation to rewrite our history.\u201d<\/p>\n
His jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI made mistakes back then.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou made choices.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was young.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo was I.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked down at the key.<\/p>\n
\u201cI never thought you’d end up owning a place like this.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
For years, I had imagined what I would say if I ever saw him again. I had pictured shouting, demanding explanations, and telling him exactly how much he had hurt us.<\/p>\n
But standing there, I felt something I hadn’t expected.<\/p>\n
Nothing.<\/p>\n
Not because the past hadn’t hurt. It had.<\/p>\n
But because I no longer needed him to understand the pain before I could move forward.<\/p>\n
Vanessa cleared her throat.<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps we should find somewhere else to stay.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour reservation is valid. The room is ready, and our staff will treat you with the same courtesy we offer every guest.\u201d<\/p>\n
Daniel looked almost more unsettled by that than he had by discovering I owned the inn.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re really going to let us stay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course. This is a business, not a courtroom.\u201d<\/p>\n
I handed him a second card with the Wi-Fi information.<\/p>\n
\u201cBreakfast is served from seven until ten. If you need anything, the front desk is available around the clock.\u201d<\/p>\n
He took the card without speaking.<\/p>\n
They went upstairs.<\/p>\n
I watched them leave, then returned to the reservations screen.<\/p>\n
My hands were shaking slightly.<\/p>\n
Not from fear.<\/p>\n
From the realization that the woman who had once scrubbed that very room while worrying about how to buy groceries now had the power to welcome the man who had abandoned her\u2014and send him to his room without asking for anything in return.<\/p>\n
That evening, Daniel came downstairs alone.<\/p>\n
He found me reviewing the next day’s staff schedule.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we talk?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
I checked the time.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have fifteen minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sat across from me in the small office beside the lobby.<\/p>\n
For a while, he stared at his hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cI’ve thought about what happened,\u201d he said. \u201cI know I left you in a terrible situation.\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn’t respond.<\/p>\n
\u201cI told myself I couldn’t handle being a father. I told myself you would find a way. I was selfish, and I didn’t think about what it would do to you or the children.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was the closest thing to an honest apology I had ever heard from him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are you telling me this now?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
He looked toward the lobby.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeeing what you’ve built made me realize how wrong I was about you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I leaned back.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don’t get to measure my worth by the size of my business, Daniel. I was worth respecting when I had nothing, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
He lowered his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you?\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn’t answer immediately.<\/p>\n
Then he said, \u201cI can’t change what I did.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I replied. \u201cYou can’t.\u201d<\/p>\n
He asked whether he could see the children.<\/p>\n
I told him that any contact would need to be discussed with them and handled respectfully. They were older now, with their own feelings about his absence. He could not simply arrive at my workplace and expect everything to be forgiven.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you want to rebuild a relationship with them, you’ll have to show up consistently,\u201d I said. \u201cNot just when you feel guilty. Not just when you’re impressed by something I’ve accomplished.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI hope you do.\u201d<\/p>\n
When our conversation ended, he returned to his room.<\/p>\n
The next morning, Daniel and Vanessa checked out at 10:43.<\/p>\n
I was at the front desk when they approached.<\/p>\n
Vanessa thanked me for the stay. Her voice was quieter than it had been the day before.<\/p>\n
Daniel placed the key on the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you for the room,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou’re welcome. Have a safe drive.\u201d<\/p>\n
He lingered for a second, as if he wanted to say something else.<\/p>\n
Then he left.<\/p>\n
I watched their SUV pull out of the parking lot.<\/p>\n
There was no dramatic speech. No public humiliation. No revenge.<\/p>\n
Just a man leaving a hotel he had unknowingly booked from the woman he once underestimated.<\/p>\n
Later that day, I walked to Room 108.<\/p>\n
The housekeeping team had already cleaned it. The bed was perfectly made, the towels folded neatly, and the sunlight fell across the fresh white sheets.<\/p>\n
I remembered the nights I had spent scrubbing those same floors, believing my life would never be anything more than survival.<\/p>\n
I touched the edge of the bed and smiled.<\/p>\n
This room had once represented everything I feared: exhaustion, poverty, and the uncertainty of raising three small children alone.<\/p>\n
Now it represented something else.<\/p>\n
Not revenge.<\/p>\n
Not even success.<\/p>\n
Possibility.<\/p>\n
I had bought the place where I once worked because I knew its value when others saw only an aging roadside motel. I had transformed it because I believed people deserved comfort, dignity, and a chance to begin again.<\/p>\n
And I had built a life in which my children’s future no longer depended on the man who had walked away.<\/p>\n
That evening, my children came to the inn for dinner.<\/p>\n
We sat together in the little breakfast room, laughing about an old family story. Noah asked me how business was going, and his younger siblings argued playfully over the last piece of dessert.<\/p>\n
I looked at them and felt a quiet gratitude I couldn’t put into words.<\/p>\n
The motel had become more than a business.<\/p>\n
It was proof that the worst chapter of our lives had not been the final one.<\/p>\n
And when I thought about Daniel, I no longer wondered whether he regretted leaving.<\/p>\n
That was his burden to carry.<\/p>\n
Mine was to keep building.<\/p>\n
Because the greatest surprise wasn’t that my ex-husband discovered my name on the ownership documents.<\/p>\n
It was that, by the time he walked through my door, I no longer needed him to see my worth. I had already built a life that proved it to me.<\/p>\n
My husband walked out on me and our three children on a rainy Thursday morning. Our youngest was barely two. My middle child was three, and our oldest had just … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":43837,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-43857","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-keang007"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43857","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=43857"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43857\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":43858,"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43857\/revisions\/43858"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/43837"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=43857"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=43857"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readupdatemystory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=43857"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}