When I visited my sick mother-in-law to give my exhausted husband a break, I expected tension. Linda and I had never been close, and I was bracing myself for her usual cold reception. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found that day.
She wasn’t sick at all. Not even a little. And when she revealed the truth, my world shattered into pieces. Because if Jacob hadn’t been with her every night like he said… where had he been?
My heart pounded as I stood frozen in front of her door, my mind spinning. How was this possible? Every single night for the past three months, Jacob had been coming here. At least, that’s what he told me.
Yet, as I stared at my perfectly healthy mother-in-law, a terrifying realization gripped me. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Jacob and I had been married for eight years. Long enough for me to know that Linda, his mother, had never been my biggest fan.
From the moment we met, she made it clear I wasn’t good enough for her son.
She wanted someone prettier, richer, classier. Not me.
Despite her coldness, I tried everything to win her over. I played nice. I brought gifts for the holidays. I smiled through backhanded compliments and ignored the way she made me feel like an outsider. But nothing I did was ever enough.
Eventually, Jacob and I agreed that it was best if I just stayed away. Less contact, less drama.
Then, a month ago, Jacob sat me down, his expression unusually serious.
“Mom’s sick, Carol. She needs me.”
His words made my heart skip a beat. As much as she and I had our differences, the thought of her struggling alone made me feel bad.
He explained that she was really unwell. Too weak to cook, barely able to move around. And despite everything, he was her only family. So, every night after work, he drove an hour to the next town to take care of her.
How could I complain? He was being a good son. I even felt guilty for not checking on her myself.
But last week, something changed.
Jacob came home looking beyond exhausted. Not just tired. Completely drained. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the couch, groaning as if every muscle in his body ached.
“I just need an hour, babe,” he mumbled, already half-asleep. “Then I’ll head to Mom’s.”
Watching him struggle to keep his eyes open made me feel awful. He was working full-time and spending every single night taking care of his mother. It wasn’t fair.
So, while he slept, I made a decision. I grabbed my purse, picked up some groceries, and drove to Linda’s house, mentally preparing for her icy attitude.
I told myself it didn’t matter if she was rude. She was sick. She needed help.
But when I knocked on her door, bracing myself, my world flipped upside down.
Linda stood there, perfectly fine.
Not sick. Not weak.
She wasn’t even in pajamas. She was fully dressed, makeup on, with freshly painted nails.
Before I could even process that, she burst into tears.
“Oh my God!” she sobbed, grabbing my hands. “Carol, what happened?! I haven’t seen Jacob in three months! Is he okay??”
My entire body went cold. The grocery bags slipped from my fingers onto her doorstep.
“What?” I whispered. “What do you mean you haven’t seen him?”
Linda wiped her tears, looking just as confused as I felt.
“I—I thought something happened to him! He just stopped visiting me months ago! He won’t answer my calls. Won’t even text me back—”
My heart stopped.
No. No, no, no.
“He told me he’s been coming here every single night,” I said, shaking my head. “He told me you were sick and needed help!”
Her face twisted in shock.
“Sick? I’m fine! I go to my gardening club every weekend! Carol, what is going on?”
I took a shaky step back. None of this made sense.
Jacob had been leaving every night after work. I watched him go. I heard the exhaustion in his voice. I saw it in his face.
Had he been lying this entire time?
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. Think, Carol. Think.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed Jacob’s number.
It rang once. Then twice.
Straight to voicemail.
I tried again.
Voicemail.
A deep, gut-wrenching dread settled over me. Something was wrong.
I looked at Linda, still crying. That meant only one thing—he hadn’t been visiting her. Not for months.
I took a slow, steady breath and made a decision.
“Don’t tell him I was here,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Please.”
Linda nodded, her eyes filled with worry. “Okay… I hope everything is fine.”
I turned and rushed back to my car.
The drive home was a blur. My hands gripped the wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mind raced through every possibility—an affair, a gambling problem, a second job.
But nothing made sense.
Jacob wasn’t the type to lie.
At least, I didn’t think he was.
Halfway home, a reckless, desperate thought struck me. If Jacob wasn’t visiting his mother, there was only one way to find out where he had been going.
So, instead of going straight home, I parked two blocks away from our house and waited.
Minutes felt like hours as I drummed my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel.
Then, at exactly 9:15 p.m., Jacob’s car pulled out of our driveway.
My breath hitched. There he is.
My heart pounded as I started the engine and followed him.
I drove in silence, tailing him at a safe distance. As expected, he didn’t head toward Linda’s town.
He went in the opposite direction.
Thirty minutes later, he turned into a quiet suburban neighborhood. My stomach twisted into knots as I parked down the street and watched.
Jacob pulled up to a modest little house. Got out. Walked to the door. Knocked twice.
And then, he stepped inside without hesitation.
My hands trembled as I reached for my phone.
But I didn’t call him.
Instead, I stepped out of the car. My legs felt shaky as I walked up the path.
I knocked.
Twice.
The door swung open.
A woman in her mid-thirties stood there. Blonde hair, pretty, wearing a hoodie and pajama pants. Her eyes widened when she saw me.
And then, before I could even process her reaction, a little boy peeked out from behind her.
He couldn’t have been older than five.
And he had Jacob’s eyes.
That’s when Jacob stepped into view and saw me.
“Carol? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice uneasy.
I looked from him to the woman to the little boy.
And suddenly, it all clicked.
Jacob hadn’t been taking care of his sick mother.
He had been here.
With them.
I turned to the woman. “Did you know he was married?”
She hesitated. Then, with a guilty look, she nodded.
I smiled.
“Keep him,” I said.
Then I walked away, never looking back.