My marriage wasn’t perfect, but I thought I knew the man I had built a life with. That illusion shattered the moment I rushed to the hospital after my husband’s accident, only to find another woman there, claiming to be his wife too.
I never thought I’d be one of those women; the kind who discovers her entire marriage was a lie in the most ridiculous, soap opera-worthy way possible.
You know the type. The ones you read about online, the ones whose husbands lead secret lives with second families across town.
A thoughtful woman staring out the window of her room | Source: Midjourney
I used to shake my head at their stories, thinking, How do you not know? How blind do you have to be?
But there I was, standing in the hospital lobby, frozen in shock.
Because the woman at the reception desk? The one frantically asking about my husband?
She was calling him her husband too.
And in that moment, I knew; Brian was about to regret every single lie he ever told.
It started with a phone call.
A closeup shot of a smart phone’s display screen | Source: Pexels
I was at the sink, scrubbing away at a stubborn stain on a wine glass. The house was quiet, except for the low hum of the dishwasher. Brian had been away on one of his so-called “business trips” all week, and I was preparing for another night of mindless TV and leftover lasagna.
Then, my phone rang.
Unknown Number.
I almost ignored it. Probably spam. But something, some instinct I couldn’t explain, made me dry my hands and answer.
“Hello?”
A tight, professional voice responded, “Is this Ms. Donna?”
My stomach dropped. “Yes?”
A woman talking on her phone in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“This is St. Mary’s Hospital. Your husband, Brian, has been in a serious car accident. You need to come immediately.”
The world around me tilted.
I gripped the counter. “Is he—” My throat closed up.
“He’s alive,” the nurse reassured me. “But in critical condition. Please come quickly.”
My keys. My shoes. I barely remember grabbing them. My body moved on autopilot as I ran out the door, my mind racing with fear.
Brian. My husband. Lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life.
A closeup shot of a patient’s blood pressure and pulse being measured in a hospital | Source: Pexels
I didn’t know that the real disaster was waiting for me at the hospital.
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and despair. I practically sprinted to the front desk, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“My husband, Brian,” I gasped. “He was in an accident. Where is he?”
The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, glanced at her screen. “Room 314. But—”
She stopped mid-sentence, looking over my shoulder.
I turned and that’s when I saw her.
A surprised woman standing in a hospital corridor | Source: Midjourney
A woman. Maybe late twenties. Blonde, pretty, dressed casually in yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Her face was flushed with panic, her hands gripping the edge of the reception desk.
And the words that came out of her mouth made my blood turn to ice.
“I’m here to see my husband, Brian,” she told the receptionist.
My husband.
My. Husband.
I blinked, sure I misheard her. But the receptionist looked between us, confused.
“Uh… you both said you’re his wife?”
The woman, this stranger, turned to me, brows knitting together. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
A worried blonde-haired woman standing in a hospital corridor | Source: Midjourney
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Who am I? Who the hell are you?”
Her face paled.
The silence stretched. Then, like puzzle pieces falling into place, realization hit us both at the same time.
We had been married to the same man.
For years.
The floor felt like it had vanished beneath me.
I gripped the reception desk, trying to breathe through the dizziness.
A shocked woman standing next to the reception desk in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
Stephanie, that was her name, as I later learned, took a shaky step back, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something, but no words came out.
Finally, she whispered, “That’s impossible. We’ve been in a civil marriage for five years.”
I let out a bitter, disbelieving laugh. “Try ten.”
Her eyes widened in horror.
We stared at each other, two strangers connected by the same man, the same lies.
The air between us crackled with a silent, shared realization.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
A shocked blonde-haired woman standing in a hospital corridor | Source: Midjourney
The betrayal settled in. The rage boiled over.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Stephanie and I just stood there, staring at each other, the weight of our shared betrayal settling between us.
But then something happened.
We really looked at each other.
And instead of seeing a rival, I saw a woman just like me. Someone who had been lied to, manipulated, and made a fool of by the same man.
A reflective woman standing in a hospital corridor | Source: Midjourney
And in that moment, I knew: Brian was about to have the worst wake-up call of his life.
We didn’t even need to say it out loud.
The plan formed between us in an instant, an unspoken understanding solidifying like concrete.
Stephanie turned to the receptionist. “Can we both go up?”
The woman looked nervous. “Only family is allowed.”
A receptionist holding a tablet computer in a hospital | Source: Pexels
I smiled sweetly, resting an elbow on the counter. “Oh, we’re family. Trust me.”
The receptionist hesitated, her eyes flickering between us. There was something about the way we stood — unified, brimming with quiet fury — that must’ve convinced her not to argue.
She exhaled sharply. “Fine. Room 314.”
Stephanie and I exchanged a look.
We walked side by side toward the elevator, silent but seething. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as we stepped inside.
Neither of us spoke.
But by the time we reached Brian’s room?
A hospital hallway | Source: Pexels
We were smiling.
Because this man had no idea what was coming.
Brian was a mess.
Bruised, bandaged, and hooked up to machines, he looked half-conscious, his face pale against the stark white pillow.
When he spotted me, his expression shifted to relief. “Babe—thank God you’re here.”
Then his eyes flicked to the woman standing beside me.
And all the color drained from his face.
Stephanie smiled sweetly. “Hi, babe. Or should I say… husband?”
Brian looked like a deer caught in headlights. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
A closeup shot of an injured man lying in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
I crossed my arms. “Hey, sweetheart. You remember Stephanie, don’t you?”
His breathing turned shallow. “I—I can explain—”
“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes. “You had a WHOLE SECOND LIFE, Brian. Two wives. Two homes. Two entire marriages.”
Stephanie smirked. “Classic narcissist behavior.”
Brian swallowed hard. “Listen—I never meant—”
“Save it,” I interrupted. “We’re not here for an apology. We’re here to give you a little news update.”
A woman looks serious and determined while standing in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney
His eyes darted between us, panic creeping in.
Stephanie leaned against the foot of the hospital bed, casually inspecting her nails. “Fun fact, Brian,” she said, her voice light. “Your hospital bill? Donna and I aren’t paying for it. You can rot here.”
Brian’s mouth parted in disbelief. “Wha—You can’t just leave me here!”
I tilted my head. “Oh, we can.”
Stephanie folded her arms. “And we will.”
Brian shifted in his bed, wincing. “Wait, wait—Stephanie, please. Baby…”
A bruised man with a pained expression lying in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
Her expression hardened. “Baby? Oh, that’s rich. You had me thinking we were starting a family. We were looking at houses. You wanted a baby, Brian!”
I flinched. A baby? Jesus Christ. This was worse than I thought.
Brian squeezed his eyes shut. “I was—I was gonna tell you both—”
“Oh, yeah?” I scoffed. “When? On your deathbed? When you got caught? Oh wait—that already happened.”
Stephanie snorted.
Brian’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “Look, we can fix this—”
“Fix what?” I snapped. “You are the problem, Brian.”
An extremely hurt woman standing in a hospital room | Source: Midjourney
Stephanie shook her head. “And you know what’s funny? I defended you. I believed every lie you ever told me.”
Brian reached a hand toward her, wincing. “Steph, please, just listen…”
Stephanie took a slow step back, her voice eerily calm. “You don’t get to say my name. Not anymore.”
The silence was thick, suffocating.
Brian’s jaw clenched. His eyes flickered between us, desperate. “So what? That’s it? You’re both just leaving me?”
I gave him a mock-sympathetic look. “That’s the general idea, yeah.”
Stephanie smirked. “Hope you like hospital gowns, babe.”
A blonde-haired woman smirks while standing in a hospital room and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
Brian opened his mouth to argue, maybe to beg.
But we were already gone.
Brian’s web of lies unraveled fast.
Turns out?
He wasn’t just a liar. He was a fraud.
His boss found out about the fake business trips; they were real, but he had been funding personal vacations with company money. He got fired immediately.
Stephanie and I both filed for divorce. Turns out, bigamy is very illegal, and Brian was looking at a very expensive legal battle.
A photo showing two pens lying on divorce papers | Source: Pexels
His family? Oh, they disowned him. His mother called me personally to apologize, crying about how she “raised him better than this.” (Spoiler: She did not.)
And his living situation?
Well, let’s just say when you lie to two wives and use their money to pay for your life, things tend to go south real quick.
He got evicted.
His credit was trashed.
And last I heard? He was living in his car.
A gloomy man sitting in his car | Source: Midjourney
I never thought I’d be bonded for life to my husband’s other wife.
But Stephanie and I? We’re friends now. We meet for coffee every Sunday. We even went on a girls’ trip to Cancún last summer, paid for with the money we got from selling Brian’s precious collectibles.
As for Brian?
Well, karma did the rest of the work.
And I sleep great at night knowing that.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
If you found this story heartwarming, here’s another one: When my husband told me he had a work party to go to, I never suspected anything untoward until I received a call that made me stop in my tracks! What I heard on the other line had me grabbing my car keys to confront him and packing his things the next day!
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.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Woman Got Involved in a “Best Mother” Competition but Quit After Reading Her Daughter’s Diary – Story of the Day
Martha made it her mission to ensure her daughter’s success: numerous classes, a violin teacher, and daily chores. Martha was certain that all of it would help Ellie find happiness. But after participating in a “Best Mother” contest with her neighbors, she realized what being a mother truly meant.
Martha and her cheerful neighbor Jen strolled up the pathway to Lois’s house, the faint scent of freshly trimmed grass mingling with the floral perfume wafting from Lois’s garden.
As the door swung open, there stood Lois, her impeccably styled hair and tailored outfit a testament to her attention to detail.
“Welcome, ladies,” Lois greeted them with a smile that hinted at smugness. She grandly gestured for them to enter.
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“Come in, come in.”
Jen, ever the social butterfly, stepped in first. “Wow, Lois, your home looks stunning as always!” she said, her tone warm and genuine.
“I can’t wait to hear what’s new with you.”
Martha followed, already feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. For her, stepping into Lois’s house wasn’t just a visit — it was entering enemy territory.
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Lois wasn’t just a neighbor; she was Martha’s unspoken rival, someone who always seemed to flaunt her accomplishments.
Lois led them into the living room, a space that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a magazine. Every piece of furniture was perfectly coordinated, and the room practically sparkled.
“Let me show you something,” Lois said, her voice dripping with pride. She motioned to a set of plants lining the windowsill.
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“These are imported from Italy. Aren’t they divine? They really bring a sense of elegance to the room.”
“Oh, they’re gorgeous!” Jen said, leaning in for a closer look. “You have such a knack for decorating, Lois.”
Martha, however, merely nodded, forcing a tight smile. To her, this wasn’t about plants — it was Lois reminding everyone how much better she was.
The tightness in Martha’s jaw betrayed her efforts to stay calm.
“And look at this,” Lois continued, picking up a delicate tea set from the table.
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“It’s made from a rare ceramic. Took weeks to arrive, but it was worth it, don’t you think?”
Jen clapped her hands together.
“Beautiful! You really know how to choose the best.”
As the women settled into their chairs, Jen suddenly lit up with an idea.
“You know what we should do? Let’s have a little contest this weekend — a ‘Best Mom’ competition!”
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Lois raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah!” Jen said, her excitement growing.
“Each of us can cook a dish, show off our homes, and have our kids perform something. It’ll be fun! A little family-friendly rivalry never hurt anyone.”
While Jen imagined a fun, lighthearted event, Martha and Lois exchanged glances.
To them, this was more than a casual game — it was a chance to prove who was better. Both women nodded without hesitation, their competitive spirits igniting.
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“Sounds perfect,” Lois said, her tone sharp and confident.
“I’m in,” Martha added, determined not to be outdone.
Jen clapped her hands together.
“This will be so much fun!” she exclaimed, oblivious to the subtle tension simmering between her neighbors.
Back home, Martha stood in the kitchen, her mind already racing with ideas for the competition.
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She called out sharply, “Ellie! Come here, please!” Her voice echoed through the house, urgency clear in her tone.
Ellie appeared moments later, her hair slightly messy from playing outside. “What’s up, Mom?” she asked, her cheerful demeanor lighting up the room.
Martha wasted no time.
“This weekend, we’re participating in a competition with Lois and Jen — a ‘Best Mom’ contest. We need to give it everything we’ve got. Our family’s reputation is on the line.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ellie’s smile faltered slightly, sensing the weight in her mother’s voice. But she nodded quickly, her usual optimism kicking in.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t let you down. I’ll do my best.”
Martha gave her a brisk nod. “Good. Let’s get started.”
They dove into the first task: cooking. Martha had decided on her famous apple pie, a recipe she knew could impress.
She meticulously instructed Ellie; from peeling the apples to mixing the dough.
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“No, not like that,” Martha corrected when Ellie tried rolling out the crust. “It needs to be perfect.”
Ellie smiled nervously and adjusted her technique. “Got it, Mom.”
Despite the sharpness in Martha’s tone, Ellie didn’t complain. She softly hummed as she worked, trying to stay positive.
The kitchen smelled heavenly as the pie baked, its golden crust a testament to their hard work.
Next, Martha dragged Ellie outside to inspect the lawn.
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“We can’t have a single weed or blade of grass out of place,” she declared, bending down to straighten a flower. They worked side by side, ensuring every detail was flawless.
Finally, they moved to Ellie’s room to rehearse her violin performance. Ellie set up her sheet music, her fingers slightly trembling as she began to play.
Halfway through, she stumbled on a note, her nerves taking over.
“Ellie, focus!” Martha snapped, her frustration clear. “You need to get this right.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ellie’s cheeks reddened, and she swallowed hard.
“I will, Mom. Let me try again.”
As she lifted the bow to the strings, the pressure in the room felt almost tangible.
Ellie pushed forward, determined to meet her mother’s expectations, even as the weight of it all began to build.
The day of the competition dawned bright and chilly. Neighbors gathered in the crisp morning air, chatting excitedly as the three contestants prepared for their first challenge.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Martha stood near her table, carefully arranging her apple pie on a decorative platter.
Nearby, Jen cheerfully set out her mac and cheese, and Lois placed her lasagna with an air of confidence that made Martha’s jaw tighten.
Nigel, the elderly man appointed judge from across the street, shuffled forward to begin the tasting.
His reputation for fairness and thoughtful opinions made him the perfect choice. He picked up his fork with a kind smile and approached Jen’s dish.
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“Mac and cheese,” he remarked, taking a bite. Jen’s sons watched with wide, eager eyes as he chewed thoughtfully. Finally, he smiled warmly.
“Simple but comforting. Well done.”
Jen grinned, clearly pleased. “Thank you, Nigel!”
Next, Nigel turned to Martha’s apple pie. Martha clasped her hands tightly, her stomach churning with nerves as he sliced into the golden crust. He took a bite, his face betraying nothing as he chewed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Then, with a small nod of approval, he said, “Lovely balance of flavors. A classic done right.”
Martha exhaled in relief, allowing herself a small smile. But that relief was short-lived as Nigel moved to Lois’s table.
Her lasagna, perfectly layered with bubbling cheese and a rich tomato sauce, looked straight out of a cooking show.
Nigel took one bite, then another, and another, finishing the entire serving.
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“Well,” he said with a chuckle, wiping his mouth. “This lasagna is exceptional. The first point goes to Lois.”
Lois beamed while Martha’s face fell.
“It’s just one round,” she muttered under her breath, trying to stay composed. She quickly urged Nigel to begin the next stage.
Nigel moved from house to house, inspecting the exteriors.
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Jen’s home was charming, with bright flowers in simple pots, but Nigel seemed more impressed by Martha’s perfectly manicured lawn and vibrant flower beds.
“This is beautiful,” he declared, awarding Martha the point for the best exterior. Martha felt a rush of satisfaction as Lois’s expression soured.
Finally, it was time for the last round: the children’s performances. Pam, Lois’s daughter, was first.
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She stepped forward confidently to sing but faltered midway, her voice cracking. Her face flushed, and she ran off, refusing to continue.
Martha smirked, feeling her chances of winning improve.
Next, Jen’s sons performed. Their dance routine was unpolished, but their playful energy and heartfelt song about their mom touched the audience.
“She’s our superhero,” they sang, drawing smiles and applause.
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As the boys finished, Martha realized Ellie was nowhere to be seen. Her confidence wavered.
“Go get her,” Nigel said, glancing at his watch. “We don’t have all day.”
Panicked, Martha rushed back to the house, her heart pounding. Something was wrong, and she needed to find Ellie fast.
Reaching Ellie’s room, Martha paused outside the door, hearing muffled sobs from within. Her heart sank.
Ellie was always cheerful, her laughter lighting up even the gloomiest days. Hearing her cry was like a punch to Martha’s chest.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She hesitated, unsure how to approach her daughter, then gently knocked and opened the door.
Ellie spun around, hastily wiping her eyes. Her face was red, and her hands trembled as she tried to shove something into her desk drawer.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Martha asked, her tone soft and concerned — a stark contrast to her usual commanding voice.
Ellie forced a shaky smile. “It’s nothing, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll win. I promise to make you proud.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her voice wavered as she spoke, but before Martha could say anything, Ellie grabbed her violin and bolted past her.
Martha stood frozen for a moment, staring at the desk. Something didn’t feel right.
Glancing toward the hallway, she hesitated. Part of her knew she should respect
Ellie’s privacy, but another part — her instincts as a mother — told her to look. Slowly, she opened the drawer and found Ellie’s diary.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her hands trembled as she flipped through the pages, the last entries smudged with tear stains. The most recent page caught her eye. As she read the words, her heart broke:
“Today, I can’t fail. I have to be perfect. Mom is counting on me, and I know I can do it. But why am I so scared? I’ve played this piece perfectly before, so why do I keep messing up now? Please, let everything go right. I want Mom to be proud of me. I want her to love me. I can’t lose…”
Tears welled up in Martha’s eyes. She had never realized how much pressure she had put on Ellie — not for Ellie’s sake, but for her own pride.
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Ellie wasn’t trying to succeed for herself; she was doing it to win her mother’s love and approval.
Placing the diary back carefully, Martha rushed outside. Ellie was standing by the stage, gripping her violin tightly, her knuckles white.
Her eyes darted nervously across the crowd.
Martha ran to her without a second thought, pulling her into a tight embrace.
“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” Martha whispered, her voice breaking. “You don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to prove anything. I already love you, and I’m so proud of you — no matter what.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ellie froze for a moment, then relaxed into her mother’s arms. Her tears spilled over, but this time, they were tears of relief. “Thank you, Mom,” she whispered.
Back on stage, Nigel smiled kindly as he announced that the points would be shared evenly, declaring all three mothers winners.
Jen clapped enthusiastically, her joy infecting the crowd. “This was so much fun!” she exclaimed.
Martha turned to Jen, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you for helping me see what being a great mom truly means.”
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: As good friends often do, Lisa and Lora decided to show their support and took Emma to a ski resort for Christmas to help her forget about her recent breakup. However, veering off the trail with Sam made her realize that this Christmas wouldn’t go as planned. Read the full story here.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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