I never imagined my day would start like this. I’m Sandra, 57, a widow, living a quiet life in a peaceful neighborhood. My son Derek, 28, and his wife Lindsay moved in last year. It was supposed to be temporary—just until they found a place of their own.
But here we are, still under the same roof. Derek has always been a good son—hardworking, responsible, and always trying to keep the peace. Lindsay, though… well, she’s a different story. We’ve never gotten along. There’s always tension between us, like walking on eggshells.
Derek left for a business trip two days ago, leaving me alone with Lindsay. I could tell she wasn’t thrilled about it either. I tried to stay out of her way, keeping to my routine, hoping the silence would keep the peace.
Then, this morning, a loud thud outside jolted me awake. My heart skipped a beat. I threw on my robe and rushed to the front door. My eyes widened at the sight before me: my poor, old car, the bumper dented, the headlights shattered. A wing mirror lay broken on the driveway.
“What in the world?” I gasped, running toward it, my hands trembling. “How did this happen?”
Behind me, the front door creaked. I turned, and there was Lindsay, calmly sipping her coffee, as if nothing had happened.
“Oh, good morning,” she said, her voice annoyingly casual.
“Morning?” I snapped. “Look at my car, Lindsay! It’s wrecked!”
She glanced at the damage, shrugged, and went back to her coffee. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“You noticed? Do you even know what happened?”
Lindsay took another sip, unfazed. “I took it out last night. The brakes were acting up. Probably why it got banged up.”
“You took my car? Without asking me?” My blood boiled.
“Well, you weren’t using it, and I had somewhere to be,” she said coolly.
“Somewhere to be? At that hour? Where could you possibly need to go in the middle of the night?”
“That’s none of your business,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “And don’t start with me about money. I’m not paying for your old car.”
I clenched my fists, trying to stay calm. “Lindsay, you can’t just take someone’s car! That’s not how it works!”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. It’s just a car. Like I said, it’s your problem.”
“My problem? You damaged it! You need to fix it!”
“I’m not spending my money on that junk,” she said defiantly.
I wanted to scream, but I remembered Derek’s words before he left: “Don’t argue with her, Mom. It’s not worth it. I’ll handle it when I get back.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Lindsay, you need to understand this was wrong. You can’t just—”
My phone rang, cutting me off. It was Derek. Relief washed over me.
“Hello, Derek?” I said, trying to sound calm.
“Mom, what’s going on? Lindsay texted me saying you’re giving her a hard time.”
“Derek, she took my car without asking—and crashed it! And now she refuses to pay for repairs!” I blurted, frustration spilling out.
“Mom, calm down. I’ll take care of it when I get back. Just… don’t fight with her, please.”
“But Derek—”
“I know, Mom. I know. Just let it go for now. I’ll deal with it.”
I sighed, defeated, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing. Something felt off. Lindsay wasn’t being honest, and I had a sinking feeling she was hiding more than just a reckless night drive.
That evening, she said she was going to meet a friend. I didn’t believe her. As soon as she left, I grabbed my phone and called Derek again.
“Derek, something’s wrong. Lindsay’s acting suspicious. I overheard her on the phone earlier, and it didn’t sound good.”
“Suspicious? What do you mean?” Derek asked, worried.
“She’s hiding something. And now she’s gone out, saying she’s meeting a friend. I don’t trust her.”
Derek sighed. “Mom, I’ve been getting weird vibes too, but I didn’t want to think the worst. Are you…?”
I didn’t finish the thought. I couldn’t. But we both knew what we suspected. “I don’t know, Derek. But something’s off. We need to find out what.”
“Alright. Keep an eye on her. I’ll be back tomorrow night, and we’ll deal with it together.”
The next day, Derek called urgently. “Mom, a friend from work told me something strange. A girl from a dating site was supposed to meet him last night, but she canceled, saying she had an accident.”
My heart sank. “Derek, what are you saying?”
“She sounded exactly like Lindsay. I’m almost sure she’s been sneaking around behind my back.”
Everything clicked. The late-night outings, the secret calls, the “accident” with my car—it wasn’t just an accident. It was part of a bigger betrayal.
“What do we do?” I asked, voice trembling.
“Pack her things. Bring them outside. When I get back tonight, she’s out. I’m done with her lies.”
It hurt my heart to do it, but I knew it was right. I started packing Lindsay’s belongings, steeling myself for confrontation.
The door creaked. Lindsay stepped in, eyes wide with shock.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Kicking you out. Your lies are over,” I said, arms crossed.
“You’ll pay for this!” she hissed. “I’ll call Derek!”
The call ended, and within minutes, she left. I felt relief mixed with sorrow. Derek came home later, and after a painful conversation, he decided to file for divorce. It wasn’t easy, but it was the only way to protect himself from her deceit.
The betrayal ran deep, but finally, it was over. Our family could start to heal.