When I visited my sick mother-in-law to give my exhausted husband a break, I expected tension. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found. 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 is 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 stared at my perfectly healthy mother-in-law, a terrifying realization gripped me. Something was wrong. Something was 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 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 and 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.
My heart pounded as I started the engine and followed him.
I drove in silence while tailing him at a safe distance. As expected, he didn’t head toward Linda’s town.
He went in the opposite direction.
Thirty minutes later, he turned into a quiet suburban neighborhood.
My stomach twisted into knots as I parked down the street and watched.
Jacob pulled up to a modest little house. Got out. Walked to the door.
Knocked twice.
And then, he stepped inside without hesitation. I had no idea who this house belonged to. And I sure wasn’t ready to find out.
My hands trembled as I reached for my phone.
My first instinct was to call him, demand an explanation, and make him come outside and face me. But I stopped myself.
I needed to see the truth. I needed to see it myself.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I got out of the car. My legs felt shaky as I walked up the path.
I knocked.
Twice.
And then the door swung open.
A woman in her mid-thirties stood there. She had blonde hair and looked super pretty in her hoodie and pajama pants.
Her eyes widened when she saw me.
Then, 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.
That’s when Jacob stepped into view and saw me.
“Carol? Carol, what are you doing here?” he asked.
I stared at the little boy, then at the woman, and then at my husband.
And suddenly, it all clicked.
The exhaustion. The late nights. The distance between us.
Jacob hadn’t been caring for his sick mother.
He had been here.
With them.
I felt numb. My body felt detached from my mind, like I was floating outside of myself, watching a scene unfold that belonged in a soap opera.
“You have a son?” The words barely sounded like my own.
Jacob’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
The woman, who I now realized must have been his ex-girlfriend, looked between us, her face stricken.
“You never told her?” she whispered.
I let out a shaky laugh.
Jacob lied. He lied to my face.
I turned to the woman. “Did you know he was married?”
She hesitated. Then, with a guilty look, she nodded.
“I… I knew about you. But Jacob said you knew about him.” Her eyes flicked to the boy, who was still clutching her leg.
A fresh wave of betrayal crashed over me.
Jacob had an entire second life. A secret child. A secret home. A second family.
Meanwhile, I had been sitting at home, feeling sorry for him, and thinking he was a good son.
At that point, I wanted to scream and throw things, but I didn’t.
Instated, I smiled and said two words.
“Keep him,” I told the woman.
Then I turned and walked away. I never looked back.
That night was one of the hardest nights of my life, but it made me realize I had to be strong for myself. I couldn’t let one man ruin everything for me.
So, I filed for divorce the next morning. I was sure I wanted to get rid of the man I thought was my husband.
Soon enough, Jacob came crawling back, begging for another chance, but I was done. I told him I couldn’t live with a man who didn’t think twice before betraying me like this.
He kept begging me to let him explain why he thought it was okay to support that woman and his child. He said things like “they needed me” and “It’s not like I don’t love you,” but I wasn’t in the mood for explanations.
Not now.
Not after I’d learned the truth.
There’s one thing I want to tell you all. If you ever feel like something is wrong, trust your gut. Don’t ignore the signs that tell you to dig deeper.
Do what your gut tells you to.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Source: thecelebritist.com