When my mother-in-law texted me one night, “Meet me. Don’t tell David,” I had no idea what I was about to walk into. Over coffee, she dropped a bombshell: my husband, David, was cheating on me. And she had a plan to make him regret it. All I had to do was play along. What followed was the wildest revenge plot I had ever witnessed.
I sat there, staring at my phone in disbelief. I had read the message from Helen, my mother-in-law, five times, but the words still didn’t quite make sense.
“Meet me. Urgent. Don’t tell David.”
Helen had never reached out to me like this in the ten years I’d been married to her son. She was fiercely protective of David, always had been, and would never go behind his back unless it was something huge.
I glanced at the clock. David wouldn’t be home for hours. He had another late meeting at work. I quickly typed back: “Where and when?”
She responded almost immediately. “Coffee shop on 5th. 30 minutes.”
I didn’t waste any time. I grabbed my coat and headed to the café. When I walked in, it was quiet, almost too quiet. I spotted Helen sitting in the corner, looking as polished as ever, her posture perfect. She didn’t even glance up when I sat down.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice unusually tense. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”
I frowned, sliding into the chair across from her. “What’s going on?”
Helen took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto mine with intensity. “David is cheating on you.”
I felt like I had been slapped. The air rushed out of my lungs, and my heart skipped a beat. But strangely, I wasn’t shocked. It was as if I had known deep down. The signs had been there for months: the late nights, the guarded phone, the sudden obsession with his fitness and appearance. I had been ignoring them, making excuses for his behavior, convincing myself I was just being paranoid.
“How do you know?” I asked, my voice shaky but trying to hold it together.
Helen’s expression turned hard. “I saw him,” she said, her mouth twisting into a disapproving line. “At a restaurant with a woman. They were… intimate. He kissed her.”
I couldn’t breathe. The pieces clicked into place, everything started making sense. Even his weird irritation with Jasper, my childhood pet parrot, now seemed so obvious.
“You know how Jasper always squawks ‘I’m a cheater’ when the kids argue?” I laughed, a little hysterically. “My sister taught him that when we were kids because I used to cheat at cards. David flinches every time he hears it now.”
Helen’s eyes narrowed. “Your African Gray? The one Sam and Bella love so much?”
I nodded, thinking about our kids, Sam and Bella, and how devastated they’d be if their parents split up. They didn’t deserve this.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.
Helen leaned forward, her voice low and fierce. “Because I raised him better than this, Teresa. And I am NOT letting him get away with it.”
I blinked, taken aback by the raw emotion in her voice.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
A slow, calculating smile spread across Helen’s face. “You don’t have to do anything. Except play along,” she said. “Leave it all to me. I have a plan to teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.”
That night, as David and I were getting ready for bed, his phone rang. I glanced up as he looked at the screen, his brow furrowing.
“It’s my mom,” he said, frowning. “Wonder what’s wrong now?”
I didn’t let my curiosity show, busying myself with the laundry, while David answered.
“Hey, Mom. What? Slow down. What happened?” He paused, listening intently. “Tonight? But it’s already late. Can’t you call a plumber?” He sighed. “Fine. Yes, you can stay with us.”
He hung up the phone and turned to me, his face filled with frustration. “Mom’s apartment flooded. Pipes burst. She needs to stay with us for a while.”
I plastered a concerned expression on my face. “Of course she can stay. Family comes first, right?”
An hour later, Helen arrived with two large suitcases. She gave me a quick, tight hug, whispering, “Let the games begin,” before turning to David with a smile that seemed to tremble just enough to seem real.
“Thank you for taking me in, sweetie,” she said, her voice wavering with a perfect touch of distress. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
The next morning, Helen was up before the rest of us. By the time David came downstairs for breakfast, she had already completely taken over the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, eyeing the spread with visible caution.
“Mom, you didn’t have to cook,” David said, looking around with hesitation.
“Nonsense!” Helen chirped, her voice too bright. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for your hospitality!” She placed a plate in front of him, smiling proudly. “I made Filipino eggplant omelets.”
I bit back a smile. David hated eggplant. He couldn’t stand it.
“I’ve been watching a lot of cooking videos from around the world,” Helen added proudly. “It’s really spiced up my repertoire!”
“That’s… great,” David said weakly, picking up his fork. “But eggplant isn’t really my—”
“Eat up!” Helen interrupted cheerfully. “It’s good for you, and you need your strength for work!”
I watched, trying not to laugh, as David forced himself to take a bite. His face contorted with the effort not to gag. That was only the beginning.
Every day, Helen’s culinary creations got more outrageous, each meal designed to torment David’s food aversions. Korean-style pork cutlets with chili sauce that left him sweating and red-faced, boiled cabbage that made the house smell like something had died. David would sit at the table, staring at Sam and Bella’s less adventurous versions of whatever we were eating, longing for something familiar.
But Helen wouldn’t let him off the hook. “It’s time you stopped being such a picky eater,” she’d say, pushing another helping of cilantro into his plate. “Now, have some more chicken curry.”
David was clearly growing more and more agitated. But it wasn’t just the food anymore.
He started checking his phone constantly, acting jumpy, making excuses to leave the room when calls came in. It was obvious he was hiding something, but I didn’t know what.
“I think it’s time to escalate,” Helen whispered to me one night, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
She pulled out a small round device from her purse. “Do you know what this is?”
“An AirTag,” I said, recognizing the tracker.
Helen nodded, a gleam in her eye. “I’m going to slip it into his work bag. Let’s see where he really goes for these ‘late meetings.’”
The next evening, we followed the tracker’s signal. It led us to a fancy restaurant downtown. Not his office, like he had claimed. We parked nearby and crept up to the window. There he was, sitting at a corner table, leaning in close to a woman in a red dress, his hand on hers.
“Ready?” Helen asked, her finger hovering over her phone.
I nodded, my heart pounding.
Helen pressed the call button. We watched as David’s phone lit up.
But instead of his usual ringtone, the restaurant was filled with the squawking voice of my parrot:
“I’M A CHEATER! I’M A CHEATER!”
David froze, then scrambled to grab his phone. The whole restaurant turned to look as he fumbled with it, accidentally knocking over his wine glass. The phone tumbled into the puddle of red wine, still blaring Jasper’s accusation.
“How did you get that recording?” I asked Helen later, trying to hold back my laughter.
“I spent some quality time with Jasper yesterday,” she said with a wink. “He’s a smart bird.”
Over the next few days, David grew more paranoid, looking over his shoulder every few minutes, jumping at every creak in the floorboards. His phone calls became more frantic, and he started rushing out of the room if anyone was around when he took one.
Helen decided it was time for the grand finale.
“The plumbers are almost finished with my apartment,” she said one morning, looking up from her phone. “So, I’m hosting a family dinner here tomorrow night. I’ve invited the whole family.”
David went pale. “The whole family?”
“Yes,” Helen said with a smirk. “Your brothers, your cousins, even your father.”
“It’s been too long since we were all together,” she added sweetly. “Teresa already agreed. Right, Teresa?”
“Right,” I said, suppressing a smile.
Saturday evening, the dining room was packed with David’s family. His brothers joked and laughed, his cousins mingled, and even his father, who had divorced Helen years ago, seemed comfortable.
David, on the other hand, sat rigid in his chair, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
When dinner was served, Helen stood up and tapped her glass. The room went silent.
“I just want to thank everyone for coming tonight,” she began, her voice warm. “Family is so important, don’t you think? But more importantly, I want to address something I’ve been keeping quiet about.”
David’s face went white. Sweat poured down his forehead.
Helen’s voice turned cold. “I caught David cheating on his wife. And I am ASHAMED of him.”
Gasps rippled through the room. All eyes turned to David, who had gone ashen.
“Mom,” he stammered, “I can explain—”
“No,” Helen cut him off, her voice sharp. “You don’t get to speak.”
David’s brother snorted in disgust. His father shook his head slowly, looking deeply disappointed.
I stood up, my heart racing. My hands were shaking slightly as I reached for the envelope I had placed under my chair.
“You can keep your cheating and your excuses, David,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “I’m keeping my dignity.”
I dropped the divorce papers on the table in front of him.
David’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He stared at the papers, then at me. “Wait,” he pleaded. “Teresa, please—”
But Helen wasn’t done.
“I’ve updated my will,” she announced, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Teresa and my grandchildren get my house. You, David? Not a cent.”
David’s jaw dropped. His brothers burst into laughter. His father gave Helen an approving nod.
That night, after everyone had gone home, and David had retreated to a hotel, Helen and I sat together on the porch swing, glasses of wine in hand.
“I never thought you’d take my side,” I said, a little in awe.
Helen smiled, her eyes softening. “I was wrong about you, Teresa. You’re family. He’s the one who forgot what that means.”
We clinked our glasses, watching the stars twinkle above.
“To new beginnings,” Helen said.
“And unexpected heroes,” I added.
