When I decided to visit my sick mother-in-law to give my exhausted husband, Jacob, a break, I expected some tension. But nothing in the world could have prepared me for what I found.
She wasn’t sick. Not even a little bit.
And when she revealed the truth, my entire world shattered. Because if Jacob wasn’t with her every night… where had he been?
I stood frozen in the doorway, my heart pounding in my chest.
How was this even possible? I thought.
Jacob had been coming here every night. At least, that’s what he told me.
But as I stared at my perfectly healthy mother-in-law, a terrifying realization gripped me. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
I’ve been married to Jacob for eight years. Long enough to know that his mother, Linda, was never my biggest fan.
From the moment we met, she made it clear I wasn’t good enough for her son. She wanted him to marry someone prettier, richer, and classier. Someone who wasn’t me.
Over the years, I tried everything to win her over. I played nice, brought gifts on holidays, smiled through backhanded compliments, and ignored the way she always made me feel like an outsider.
But no matter what I did, it was never enough.
Eventually, Jacob and I decided 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.
“She’s really unwell. Too weak to cook, barely able to move around,” he continued. “And, despite everything, I’m all she has.”
So, every night after work, he drove an hour to the next town over to take care of her.
I didn’t complain. How could I?
He was being a good son.
And honestly? I felt guilty for not checking in 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 like every muscle in his body ached.
“I just need an hour, babe,” he mumbled, already half-asleep. “Then I’ll head to Mom’s.”
I watched him struggle to keep his eyes open. He was running on fumes.
That’s when something inside me shifted.
I felt awful. He was working full-time and spending every single night taking care of his mother. It wasn’t fair.
So, while he was asleep, I made a decision.
I grabbed my purse, picked up some groceries, and drove to Linda’s house, mentally preparing for the usual chilly reception.
I told myself it didn’t matter if she was rude. She was sick. She needed help.
I knocked on her door, bracing myself.
And then, the door swung open.
And 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??”
I felt my entire body go cold. The groceries slipped from my hands onto the 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 stepped back, shaking my head. None of this made sense.
Jacob had been driving out every night after work. I watched him leave. I heard the exhaustion in his voice. I even saw it in his face.
Had he been lying this entire time?
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. Think, Carol. Think.
Then, I pulled out my phone with shaking hands 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. She was still crying.
That meant only one thing. He hadn’t been visiting his mother. He hadn’t been here 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, wiping her tears. “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.
But then again, I never thought he’d lie about this.
Halfway home, a thought struck me. A reckless, impulsive, desperate thought.
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.
I followed him.
Thirty minutes later, he turned into a quiet suburban neighborhood.
My stomach twisted as he pulled up to a modest little house, walked to the door, and knocked twice.
Then, he stepped inside without hesitation.
I got out of my car, my legs shaky. I knocked.
Twice.
And then the door swung open.
A blonde woman in her mid-thirties stood there in pajamas. Her eyes widened when she saw me.
And 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. Jacob’s hair.
Jacob appeared behind them, his face draining of color.
“Carol?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”
I looked at the boy, then the woman, then back at my husband.
And suddenly, it all made sense.
I let out a shaky laugh. “You have a son?”
Jacob opened his mouth, but no words came out.
The woman, looking between us, whispered, “You never told her?”
Jacob had a secret life. A secret child. A secret home.
I turned to the woman. “Did you know he was married?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “I… I knew. But Jacob said you knew about him.”
I smiled coldly. “Keep him.”
Then I turned and walked away.
The next morning, I filed for divorce. And I never looked back.
