When my perfect sister Stacy stole my husband, Henry, while I was pregnant, I felt my world shatter. My heart felt broken into a thousand pieces. Stacy had always believed she was better than me. Growing up, she seemed to have everything, while I was left in the background, doing my best but never quite good enough. And now, it seemed like she had finally won.
She had Henry, the man I loved, and everything I thought I’d built was crumbling. But life has a funny way of turning things around. When Stacy’s world fell apart, she came knocking on my door, begging for my help.
Growing up, I had always been in second place. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I did, I was always overshadowed by Stacy. I brought home straight A’s, kept my room spotless, and did everything I could to make my parents proud, but nothing was ever enough. They didn’t even seem to notice.
Stacy, my younger sister, was the star. While I worked hard to stay out of trouble, Stacy was out there breaking records at swim meets and winning trophies. My parents treated her like a celebrity, their attention always on her. It felt like I didn’t exist at all.
The only person who ever truly saw me was my grandmother. She was the one who made me feel loved, who took me to her home where I could feel warmth and care. I spent weekends and summers there, learning how to cook, watching old movies, and feeling like I mattered. My grandmother was my rock, and in many ways, she raised me.
When I graduated high school, my parents didn’t even bother to celebrate. They kicked me out without a second thought, telling me I was on my own now. But it was my grandmother who helped me move into my college dorm when I got a scholarship. That scholarship was my ticket out of my parents’ house.
Once I turned 18, I refused to take any more money from my grandmother. She had done so much for me already. When I landed a good job after graduation, I was finally able to give back to her. It felt good to do something for her, after all the love she had given me.
And then I met Henry. He seemed perfect, but my grandmother never trusted him. She always said something didn’t feel right about him. I didn’t listen at first. I wanted to believe he loved me, and I convinced myself that he did.
But recently, my grandmother had been feeling unwell. I felt a knot in my stomach as I drove to her house. I knew I needed to be there for her, just like she had always been there for me.
We were sitting at her kitchen table, sipping tea, when my grandmother stirred her tea slowly, her eyes focused on the cup. Then she looked up at me, her gaze sharp.
“Are you still with Henry?” she asked.
I froze. My fingers tightened around my mug, and I felt my heart race. “Of course,” I said, trying to sound confident. “We’re married.”
Her eyes never left mine. “And his affairs?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. The question hurt more than I wanted to admit. “He promised he wouldn’t cheat again,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.
“And you believe him?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern.
“I’m trying,” I murmured. “He loves me. I have to believe that.” I hesitated for a moment before adding, “I’m pregnant. I want my child to have a father.”
My grandmother’s expression didn’t change. “That’s not love, May,” she said gently.
I tried to explain, to convince both of us. “He sees me,” I said.
“Then why does he spend so much time with your parents and Stacy?” she asked, her voice calm but pointed.
I looked away, trying to brush off the question. “I talk to them too. Just not as much,” I said, hoping she would drop it.
“Exactly,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I don’t want to upset you, but my friend saw Henry and Stacy together. They were at a restaurant.”
My stomach dropped. I felt the air leave my lungs. “What are you saying?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Maybe Stacy couldn’t handle you being happy,” she said softly.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “That’s ridiculous!” I snapped, my voice rising. “I don’t want to talk about this!”
I grabbed my bag and stood up, rushing for the door. As I reached it, I heard her voice behind me, calm but filled with concern. “May, sweetheart, I’m only trying to help.”
But I was already gone.
As I drove home, my mind raced. My grandmother had crossed a line. How could she say something so cruel? Yes, Henry had made mistakes, but he was trying. And Stacy? She was selfish, but even she wouldn’t go that far.
When I pulled into the driveway, I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. But the moment I stepped inside the house, something felt off. I heard noises coming from upstairs—soft, muffled sounds that shouldn’t have been there. My heart raced as I climbed the stairs, dread sinking in my stomach.
My hands were shaking as I reached for the bedroom door. I swung it open and froze.
There, in my bed, were Henry and Stacy.
Tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t move. For a moment, the world stopped. Henry was the first to notice me, his eyes going wide with panic as he jumped out of bed, scrambling to get dressed.
“May! What are you doing here?!” Henry shouted, his voice filled with fear.
I couldn’t believe my ears. “What am I doing in my own house?!” I screamed, my voice shaking with anger.
“You were supposed to be at your grandmother’s!” Henry barked, pulling on his shirt in a hurry.
“That’s all you have to say?” I asked, my eyes filling with tears. “I just caught you in bed with my sister, and that’s your excuse?”
Stacy sat up in bed with a smug grin. “So what?” she said. “I’m better than you. I always have been. No wonder Henry realized it too.”
I couldn’t contain my anger. “How dare you!” I shouted.
Henry’s face turned cold as he looked at me. “Stacy is prettier. She always looks good, wears makeup, and stays in shape.”
“And she doesn’t work!” I shot back, my voice rising in fury.
“Having a job doesn’t matter,” Henry said coldly. “And let’s be honest, you’ve gained weight.”
I touched my belly instinctively. “Because I’m pregnant! With your child!” I screamed.
Henry’s face hardened. “I don’t know if that’s true,” he said, his voice void of emotion. “Stacy and I talked. I’m not sure the baby is mine.”
I was stunned. I couldn’t breathe. “Are you serious? You’ve been cheating on me, and now you’re questioning if the baby is yours?”
“Maybe you cheated too,” Henry said, crossing his arms, trying to act like the victim.
“Yeah, right!” Stacy added, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
“Shut up!” I yelled, my hands trembling with rage.
Henry’s eyes narrowed. “I’m done with this. I’m filing for divorce.”
“Are you serious?!” I screamed, my heart pounding.
“Yes. Pack your things and leave by tonight. The house is in my name,” he said coldly.
I wiped my tears, trying to hold my composure. “We’ll see how long you last without me,” I said, turning to Stacy. “Just so you know, he’s been unemployed for six months. He can’t even find a job.”
Stacy’s smug smile didn’t falter. “He still bought me expensive gifts.”
“I wonder whose money he used!” I snapped, disgusted.
I packed my things and left. By evening, I had nowhere else to go but to my grandmother’s house.
I rang the bell at her door, and when she opened it, I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “You were right,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
She pulled me into her arms. “There, there, everything will be fine,” she whispered, stroking my hair.
My divorce from Henry was final, and he took everything. The house, the furniture, even some of the things I had bought myself. All I had left was my car. But I didn’t care. I was free from him. My grandmother stood by me through everything. She gave me a place to stay and made sure I didn’t feel alone.
One evening, as I folded laundry, my grandmother came into the room. Her face was serious as she sat beside me and took my hand.
“May, we need to talk,” she said softly.
My heart sank. “What happened?” I asked, barely above a whisper.
She sighed deeply. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I guess I have to. The doctor said I only have a few months left.”
My heart stopped. “What? No…” I whispered, my throat tight with grief.
“I didn’t say anything because I thought I had more time,” she said gently. “But now… it’s only a few months.”
I hugged her tightly. “Please, Grandma, promise me you’ll live long enough to meet him. Promise me you’ll see him.”
She stroked my hair, her touch gentle. “I can’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep,” she whispered.
My grandmother grew weaker with each passing day. I stayed close to her, stopped going to the office, and worked from home. I cooked for her, made sure she felt useful, and kept her company.
One day, I asked, “Grandma, do you like this color for the nursery?” showing her fabric samples.
She smiled softly. “The blue one. It’s calm and peaceful.”
We spent as much time together as we could. But time kept slipping away.
My grandmother passed away when I was eight months pregnant. She never got to meet her great-grandson. I was devastated, but I had to stay strong for my baby. The funeral was hard. My family showed up—my parents, Stacy, even Henry.
Stacy looked tired, worn out. Her face was pale, and her eyes were hollow. After the service, we gathered in my grandmother’s living room for the reading of her will.
“There’s not much to say,” the lawyer began. “Everything is inherited by May and her child, with a note saying, ‘For always being there.’”
I was stunned. I never expected my grandmother to leave me everything.
My family exploded in arguments. Stacy threw a tantrum, my parents argued, and even Henry had something to say. The lawyer quickly escorted them out.
With my grandmother’s inheritance, I had enough to take maternity leave. But I didn’t want to waste it. I planned to work as long as I could—my grandmother would have wanted that.
Not long after the funeral, Stacy came to my door. She looked even worse than she had at the funeral.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice flat.
“Can I come in?” Stacy asked softly, avoiding my gaze.
“Say what you need here,” I said firmly.
“I need your help,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I need money.”
I crossed my arms. “Why should I help you?”
“Henry still hasn’t found a job,” she said, her voice shaky. “We lost the house because of debts. Now we’re living with our parents. And… he’s cheating on me.”
“That was your choice, Stacy,” I said calmly. “You stole my husband because you thought you were better than me. Remember?”
“I didn’t know it would turn out like this,” she whispered.
“Maybe… maybe you could let us stay with you? You have more space than our parents.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You took everything from me, and now you want my help?”
“Is it that hard for you?!” Stacy snapped, her voice rising.
“You convinced Henry that I wasn’t carrying his child,” I said, firm now. “I need to focus on my son’s future, not yours.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You made your choice,” I said softly. “The most I can do is give you the contact of a good divorce lawyer.”
She screamed at me, “You’re horrible!”
I looked at her with steady eyes. “Think about everything you’ve done to me and decide who’s really horrible.”
“I’m not leaving Henry!” she yelled, her face twisted with fury.
And with that, she turned and stormed away.
I watched her go, without saying another word. For the first time in ages, I felt at peace. The weight of everything finally began to lift.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. My heart still ached for my grandmother. I missed her every day. The house felt so empty without her. But even though she was gone, she had taken care of me, and she had left me and my baby with security and a future.
I placed my hand on my belly and whispered, “Thank you, Grandma. I’ll make you proud.”
