When I decided to visit my sick mother-in-law to give my exhausted husband, Jacob, a break, I expected some tension. But nothing could have prepared me for what I discovered. She wasn’t sick at all. And when she revealed the truth, my world shattered. Because if Jacob wasn’t with her every night… where had he been?
How was that even possible? I thought.
Every single night, Jacob had been coming here. Or at least, that’s what he told me.
But as I stood in front of my perfectly healthy mother-in-law, a terrifying realization gripped me. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
I had 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 that I wasn’t good enough for her son. She wanted him to marry someone prettier, richer, and classier. Not 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.
He went on to explain that she was really unwell. Too weak to cook and barely able to get around. And, despite everything, he was her only family. 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. And 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. I didn’t even realize when I dropped the groceries on 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 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. “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 tight 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 all this time, 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 my fingers drummed 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.
I followed him.
Thirty minutes later, he pulled up to a modest little house in a quiet neighborhood.
My stomach twisted into knots as I watched him get out, walk up the path, and knock twice before stepping inside without hesitation.
I had no idea who this house belonged to.
And I sure wasn’t ready to find out.
But I needed to.
So I knocked.
Twice.
A blonde woman in her mid-thirties opened the door. She was pretty, dressed in pajama pants and a hoodie. Her eyes widened when she saw me.
Then, a little boy peeked out from behind her.
He couldn’t have been older than five.
And he had Jacob’s eyes.
Jacob stepped into view, his face pale. “Carol? Carol, what are you doing here?”
I stared at the little boy, then at the woman, and then at my husband.
And suddenly, it all clicked.
Jacob hadn’t been caring for his sick mother.
He had been here.
With them.
“You have a son?” I whispered.
Jacob opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
The woman looked between us, her face stricken. “You never told her?”
I turned to her. “Did you know he was married?”
She hesitated. Then nodded.
That was all I needed to hear.
I smiled bitterly and told her two words: “Keep him.”
And then I walked away.
I never looked back.
