I Babysat While My Sister Slept With My Husband—But Her Dirty Secret Became My Best Revenge
Everyone always told me I was too kind. The kind of woman who never says no. The kind who always smiles and helps, even when she’s tired and hurting.
I believed being good would come back to me one day. I believed love could survive anything. I believed my marriage would last.
But after the wedding, all of that… faded.
So did Jack.
He used to be my dream man. Now he was just a guy glued to the couch, scrolling on his phone like it held the meaning of life. He didn’t ask me out anymore. Didn’t even glance at me when I stood in the hallway, coat on, hoping for him to say something like:
“Where are you going, Marie?”
But that night? Nothing.
Just Jack, flipping through channels. So I tried.
“Jack, do you remember when we used to plan weekend getaways?”
He didn’t even glance up. “Why are you bringing this up now? I have work tomorrow.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “We don’t even eat dinner together anymore…”
“You’re here. I’m here. We’re together. What more do you want?” he replied, still not looking at me.
I stared at the back of his head. The silence between us was louder than any argument.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He smiled—really smiled—at the screen.
My own phone buzzed too. I didn’t even need to check. Linda.
“Marie!” Her voice blasted through the speaker. “Can you PLEASE come watch the kids tonight? I’m begging. You’re my angel!”
“Linda… I was just there the other night until midnight…”
“Oh, come on. I don’t have a husband anymore, remember? I need to go out. I have to rebuild my life before I shrivel up like an old sponge!”
She sighed dramatically. “You’re lucky. You’ve still got Jack.”
Lucky? Yeah, right.
“Fine,” I said quietly. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Knew you’d say yes! You’re the best!” Click. She didn’t even ask if I had plans.
I grabbed my bag. Jack didn’t say a word.
“I’m going to Linda’s. Again.”
He stretched like he’d just woken from a nap.
“Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”
Linda’s house was quiet. The kids were already asleep. I sat on the couch with a mug of tea, watching the clock.
2:00 AM.
Seven hours. No message from her. No call. Nothing.
What kind of “meeting” lasts this long?
I checked on Billy. He was snoring softly, safe under the blankets. Cindy clutched her stuffed monkey. I loved these kids like they were mine.
Then it hit. That tightness in my chest. The panic. I reached for my inhaler—nothing.
No, no, no.
I tore through my purse and found the old one. Almost empty. My breathing got harder. My lungs felt like they were closing.
I ran outside. Linda’s neighbor, Gloria, was watering her roses—at two in the morning.
“Marie? What are you doing out here, honey?”
“Gloria… I’m out of… asthma meds… need to drive home… can you stay with the kids?” I wheezed between each word.
She dropped her watering can and grabbed my hand.
“Go. I’ve got them. They won’t even know you left.”
I could’ve cried. I drove straight home, my chest aching, each breath like fire. I pushed open the door—and froze.
Linda’s car was in the driveway.
And the bedroom light was on.
I blinked. My stomach turned.
No. No way.
I stepped inside. Laughter drifted from upstairs. A man. A woman. Drunken giggles. Then I saw it—Jack’s shirt on the stairs. Linda’s bracelet. A wine glass on the table.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I crept up the stairs. I didn’t need to guess. I already knew.
The bathroom door was cracked open. I pushed it.
“Are you out of your minds?!” I screamed.
There they were. Jack, soaking in bubbles. Linda, swirling her wine, her bare shoulder visible through the foam. They both looked up, calm as anything.
“Marie,” Linda rolled her eyes, “you’re supposed to be with the kids.”
“With the kids?!” I gasped. “I trusted you—with everything. You slept with my husband?”
Jack lifted his glass. “I just picked the wrong sister, that’s all.”
It felt like someone lit a fire inside my chest. I stumbled to the bedroom. There were rose petals on the bed. My bed.
I found my inhaler, dropped to the floor, hugging my knees.
Their laughter echoed behind the door. And right then—I felt it. The old Marie was gone.
The woman who stayed quiet? She died that night.
And someone new was born.
Someone who would never be used again.
Someone who would get revenge.
I came back to Linda’s house at sunrise. The kids were still asleep. Cindy’s hair was stuck to her cheek. Little Tommy slept with his arm draped over his dinosaur pillow.
People used to whisper:
“Isn’t it odd? Tommy doesn’t look like Linda. Or her ex-husband.”
I sat beside him. My chest was still. My thoughts were sharp. I reached into my pocket, took out a small sandwich bag, and gently plucked one blond hair from his hairbrush.
“I’m sorry, baby boy,” I whispered. “But this is bigger than you.”
Gloria had dozed off in a chair. I shook her gently.
“Hey, Gloria…”
She blinked awake. “Oh, Marie, I wasn’t sleeping!”
I dropped to my knees.
“Gloria… m-my husband… my sister…”
Her wrinkled hand brushed the hair from my face.
“Oh, sweetheart… You don’t deserve this. You never did.”
I sobbed. “They think I’m weak. That I’ll forgive. Like always.”
Her grip tightened. “Then don’t forgive. Teach them what cold really feels like.”
I nodded. “I’ll do it. For me.”
Two weeks later, the DNA envelope arrived. I sat at the kitchen table, heart pounding. The paper trembled in my hand.
70% match…
That was close enough to light the match. I knew the truth—and I knew exactly what to do with it.
Two nights before, Jack had packed a suitcase in the hallway.
“I’m moving in with Linda.”
I just smiled.
“Good luck, honey. This isn’t over.”
Sunset glowed orange when I pulled up to their new place. The porch light flickered like a lie.
I knocked.
Linda opened the door in a silk robe. She froze.
“Marie. What the hell are you doing here?”
I walked in like I owned the place.
“Where’s my husband?”
Jack appeared, beer in hand, expression stunned.
I sat on their fancy white couch.
“We need to talk. All three of us.”
Linda crossed her arms. “She’s insane. Ignore her.”
I looked straight at Jack. “You ever wonder who Tommy’s real father is?”
His face twisted. “Don’t drag the kid into this.”
I pulled the paper out slowly.
“Read it.”
Linda lunged. “Don’t you dare!”
Jack opened it. His eyes scanned the page.
“Seventy percent? Wait… does this mean… he’s mine?”
“Is he?” I asked.
Linda’s mouth twitched. Then she snapped.
“So what if he isn’t? You think I was going to stay broke? Have kids with a loser who earns nothing?”
Jack’s voice cracked. “Who’s the father, Linda?”
She laughed, sharp and bitter.
“Your brother. Rick. The family golden boy.”
Jack’s jaw dropped.
“Rick?!”
“Yep. He pays me. Every month. To keep it quiet. So his wife doesn’t find out. I get money, gifts, vacations… I’m not dumb.”
Jack’s face turned red.
“You used me!”
“You were a bonus, Jack. Pocket change. You’re not even the favorite son.”
I stood. Calm. Tall.
“Looks like you picked the wrong sister after all.”
From down the hall, two little heads peeked out.
“Cindy, Tommy,” I called, “let’s go. We’re getting ice cream.”
Tommy whispered, “But… Mom?”
I crouched. “Mom needs to yell at Uncle Jack right now. Let’s leave them to it.”
We walked out together. Behind us, Linda screamed. Jack shouted. The house echoed with betrayal.
But outside, the sun was warm.
Two small hands wrapped around mine.
“Chocolate or strawberry?” I asked.
“Both!” they laughed.
Perfect.
I wanted sweet that day.
And I got it.
