I planned our family vacation, hoping it would be a chance to bond with my husband and son. Instead, it led me to a betrayal that turned our perfect getaway into a nightmare. What happened there was something I’ll never forget.
Family vacations are supposed to bring you closer together, right? At least, that’s what I’d always believed.
But this time, what started as a cherished family tradition became the worst time of my life.
A woman at the beach | Source: Midjourney
Being a working mom has never been easy, but I’ve always prided myself on finding the balance between career and family.
My job keeps me so busy that I sometimes arrive home long after dinner has been eaten and the lights have been dimmed.
Despite that, I’ve always ensured my family had everything they needed.
A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney
My husband, Mark, also used to have a steady job, but things changed when he got laid off a couple of years ago. He picked up odd jobs here and there, contributing what he could, but the bulk of our household expenses landed squarely on my shoulders.
Honestly, I didn’t mind. That’s what you do for your family, right?
But lately, I’d started noticing the cracks.
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
My job left me with less time to connect with Mark because he’d already be asleep by the time I got home, making me feel we were growing apart.
However, I didn’t think much about it. I thought we’d reconnect on our annual vacation.
Our annual vacation is a tradition we’ve kept alive through the years. No matter how tough things got financially, we always set aside time to escape for a few days together.
A couple holding their bags | Source: Pexels
It was something I cherished because I saw it as a chance to reconnect as a family and make memories that would last a lifetime.
This year, I wanted the trip to be extra special. Especially because lately, Mark had been struggling to find a decent job. I thought this would cheer him up.
“We need this,” I told Mark one evening after a particularly grueling day at work. “A few days away from everything, just the three of us.”
“But I don’t have a job, and—”
“No buts,” I said. “I’ll take care of everything. And I’m sure you’ll land a job when you return from the trip with a fresh mind. Don’t worry, okay?”
“Okay,” he smiled. “Thank you for all that you do for us. I’m sure Eric will love the trip too.”
A man sitting in his house | Source: Midjourney
Our son, Eric, is 20 and in college. Like most kids his age, he’s absorbed in his world of parties, friends, and social media. But when I called him to share our vacation plans, he sounded genuinely excited.
“Yeah, Mom, I’m in!” he exclaimed. “Can’t wait to spend time with you guys.”
It warmed my heart to hear that.
A day later, though, Eric called me back with a request. “Mom, would it be okay if I brought my girlfriend along?”
His girlfriend? That was news to me.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Uh, I guess so,” I said hesitantly. “What’s her name?”
“Jessica,” he said. “She’s great. You’ll love her.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the idea. Our vacations had always been just the three of us, and adding a new person, someone I’d never met, felt strange. But Eric seemed so excited, and I didn’t want to dampen his enthusiasm. He told me he’d been seeing her for three months now.
“Alright,” I said finally. “She’s welcome to join us.”
As the trip approached, I threw myself into planning. I wanted everything to be perfect.
A woman writing in her diary | Source: Pexels
Little did I know, this vacation wouldn’t be about bonding or relaxation. It would turn out to be one of my worst nightmares.
Jessica joined us at the airport, looking like she had just stepped out of a magazine. Her sleek outfit, perfectly styled hair, and radiant smile immediately caught everyone’s attention, including Mark’s.
He seemed particularly charmed by her, pulling her suitcase and even complimenting her choice of shoes. I brushed it off as politeness.
After all, she was Eric’s girlfriend. What was there to worry about?
A young woman | Source: Midjourney
At first, Jessica seemed nice, but soon, little things started to feel weird.
Over dinner on our first night, I thought I’d try bonding with her.
“Jessica, have you had a chance to see Eric play basketball yet?” I asked.
Her eyes widened, and she hesitated before replying, “Basketball? We’ve never talked about that.”
My eyebrows shot up. Basketball had been Eric’s passion for years. His social media was plastered with team photos and game highlights. How could his girlfriend of three months not know that?
I glanced at Eric, who was busy texting and didn’t notice.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
The next day, Eric suggested we all try jet-skiing. His face lit up as he described how much fun it would be, but Jessica frowned.
“I’m not really into water sports,” she said.
Wait… did Eric not know that already? I thought. That’s strange.
At that point, Eric’s excitement dimmed, but he quickly recovered and suggested we should go sightseeing instead.
Later, while everyone relaxed by the pool, I overheard Jessica asking Eric about his major.
“Biology, right?” she said with a giggle. “I can’t believe I keep forgetting that!”
A young woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
My heart skipped a beat. What was going on here?
This young woman who claimed to be my son’s girlfriend had no idea about his passion for basketball. She didn’t know his major. And she didn’t even seem particularly interested in learning. And Eric? He was doting on her constantly, getting her drinks, carrying her bag, and even taking over the sun lounger she didn’t like.
Calm down, Colleen, I told myself. Don’t overthink. Relationships are complicated, and maybe Jessica just needed more time to connect with Eric.
Still, something didn’t sit right.
A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney
Midway through the trip, I was looking for sunscreen in Eric’s suitcase when I stumbled upon a small velvet box. Curious, I opened it to find a stunning diamond necklace.
It looked SUPER EXPENSIVE, and I couldn’t believe my son had bought something so elegant for his girlfriend.
How did Eric manage to save up for it? I thought.
Later that evening, I brought it up casually.
“Eric, I found the necklace in your suitcase,” I smiled. “It’s beautiful, and I’m sure Jessica’s going to love it.”
A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney
He looked at me with wide eyes as if I’d said something I wasn’t supposed to say.
“Yeah, I-I,” he stammered. “I’ve been saving for a while. I, uh, I really liked it and I thought I’d get it for her. After all, she deserves it.”
“That’s amazing!” I faked a smile. “I’m so proud of you!”
I wasn’t ready to believe that my son, a college student on a tight budget, could afford something so extravagant. I decided not to press him, but my gut told me there was more to this necklace than he was letting on.
A silver pendant with diamonds | Source: Pexels
Jessica’s indifference to Eric’s life, her lack of genuine interest, and now this mystery necklace? Things weren’t adding up.
On the final morning of our trip, the hotel was quiet. Mark was having breakfast downstairs, and Eric and Jessica were lounging by the pool.
I stayed in the suite, sipping coffee and trying not to overanalyze the situation.
That’s when Eric’s phone, left charging on the counter, buzzed with a notification.
It was a text. I glanced at it absentmindedly, but my eyes widened when I read it.
A phone on a table | Source: Pexels
It read, +$500 to our deal. Thanks for covering up for me with the necklace.
The sender? Mark. My husband.
My stomach dropped as my mind tried to connect the dots. I immediately grabbed Eric’s phone and entered the passcode (I knew it because I’d watched him unlock his phone once).
I knew it wasn’t right to invade his privacy, but something told me I had to see more.
The message thread unraveled a web of betrayal I couldn’t have imagined.
A woman reading messages on her son’s phone | Source: Pexels
Mark and Eric had been plotting for weeks, and Jessica wasn’t Eric’s girlfriend. She was Mark’s mistress.
Eric had been pretending to date her as a cover so Mark could bring her on the trip without arousing my suspicion. The “deal” they had struck involved money Mark had promised Eric in exchange for his silence. And the necklace? Mark had paid for it with my money.
I stared at the screen as dozens of questions popped into my mind.
A woman looking at her son’s phone | Source: Midjourney
How could Mark do this to me? And Eric? Why did he go along with it? They thought they could betray me like this?
I was angry. I was heartbroken.
But I knew I couldn’t let this slide.
That evening, I called everyone to dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. I dressed carefully, choosing a nice dress and pairing it with the diamond necklace my husband had bought for his mistress.
I wanted to look composed and strong, even if I felt like falling apart inside.
A woman wearing a necklace | Source: Midjourney
When I walked into the restaurant, they turned to look at me. Jessica’s eyes lit up, but her smile faded when she realized I was wearing her necklace.
“Mom, why are you wearing Jessica’s necklace?” Eric asked. “That’s her gift.”
“Oh, really?” I chuckled. “That’s odd. Because your dad bought it with MY MONEY.”
Mark’s face turned pale.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” he stammered. “What—”
A man sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Stop pretending, Mark,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Then, I turned to Jessica. “I don’t know what my husband has told you, but he’s currently unemployed. He got laid off years ago, and since then, he’s been struggling to find a decent job.”
“But, I—”
“Shh!” I cut her off. “Let me finish. You see, I’ve been paying for everything ever since he lost his job. Everything including this trip, the necklace, and even the money he promised Eric to play along with this charade.”
“Mom, I didn’t mean to… I mean—” Eric began.
A young man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“I never thought my son could do something like this,” I glanced at Eric as tears streamed down my cheeks. “I had no idea I was paying my own son to lie to me.”
That was the last thing I said to the three of them. I stood up and walked back to my room.
The next day, I flew home alone. Eric and Mark kept calling me, but I refused to answer any of their calls.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
A week later, I filed for divorce. Jessica vanished when she realized Mark had no money, leaving him humiliated and alone.
As for Eric, we’re working on rebuilding our relationship. He made a mistake, but he’s still my son, and I’m hoping he won’t do anything like this again. I guess he just wanted some money and didn’t really care what his father wanted him to do. I pray he grows up and understands what Mark did that day was totally unacceptable.
I hope Eric never follows in his father’s footsteps.
I Fell for My Daughter-in-Law’s Grumpy Neighbor, but Thanksgiving Exposed the Awful Truth About Our Relationship – Story of the Day
Living with my son and his unbearable wife was far from the peaceful arrangement I had imagined. But when the grumpy neighbor next door unexpectedly asked me to dinner, everything began to change. Little did I know, a secret plan was unfolding — one that would turn my life upside down.
I had been living with my son Andrew and his ever-resentful wife, Kate, for two weeks. It wasn’t an arrangement either of them had ever wanted, but my accidental, slightly exaggerated leg injury had finally forced Kate’s reluctant consent.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She opposed it, of course—she had for years—but this time, she had no choice.
Stepping out onto the porch that morning, I spotted her in the yard, raking leaves. Watching her from a distance, I sighed. The poor girl hadn’t the faintest idea what she was doing.
“Kate, you’re doing it all wrong!” I called, raising my voice. She didn’t even look up.
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I assumed she hadn’t heard, so I moved closer, wincing for effect. “I’m telling you, you’re raking them the wrong way. Start with small piles, then combine them into one big heap. Dragging them across the yard is a waste of time.”
She stopped abruptly, leaning on the rake, and turned to face me. Her face betrayed the exhaustion of carrying a child and hosting an unwanted guest.
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“I thought your leg hurt,” she said flatly, her gaze drifting to my suspiciously steady walk. “Maybe it’s time for you to go home?”
The nerve of her! Clutching my leg for emphasis, I replied indignantly, “I was trying to help you, despite the pain, and this is how you thank me?”
Kate rested a hand on her belly, the protective gesture unmistakable. “I’m seven months pregnant. Helping would mean actually doing something useful,” she said, her voice sharper than the autumn air.
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Rude, I thought, but I forced a tight smile. She wasn’t worth the argument.
Across the fence, Mr. Davis, their grouchy neighbor, shuffled into view, his perpetual scowl in place.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Davis!” I chirped, trying to soften his hard expression. He grumbled something under his breath and disappeared into his house without so much as a nod. Just like Kate—miserable and unsociable.
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Back inside, I noticed dust on the furniture again. Kate was on maternity leave—surely, she could spare time to clean. Andrew deserved a better-kept home after all his hard work.
Later, Kate returned to the house and started preparing dinner. Naturally, I offered her a few helpful tips, but my advice seemed to fall on deaf ears. Eventually, she turned and said coldly, “Please, just leave the kitchen.”
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That evening, as Andrew came through the door, I heard her complaining to him. Leaning close to the wall, I caught snippets of their conversation.
“We discussed this,” Andrew said, his tone measured. “It’ll benefit everyone.”
“I know,” Kate replied with a weary sigh. “I’m already trying, but it’s harder than you think.”
When I peeked around the corner, I saw Andrew embracing her, his arms wrapped protectively around her growing belly. He comforted her as if she were the victim here!
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At dinner, I couldn’t resist pointing out that her pie was undercooked.
“I have an idea,” Kate said suddenly, her tone too cheerful to be genuine. “Why don’t you bake a pie yourself and bring it to Mr. Davis?”
I frowned. “That grump? He doesn’t even greet me,” I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at her.
“I think you’re mistaken. He’s not so bad—just shy,” she said, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Besides, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
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I laughed, the sound hollow. “If that’s true, he’s the one who should make the first move. A man should court a lady.”
Kate sighed, her gaze shifting to Andrew, who squeezed her hand as if sharing a secret.
The next morning, the last thing I expected was to see Mr. Davis approaching the yard.
“Margaret,” he began stiffly, his posture as awkward as his tone. “Would you… well… have dinner with me?”
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“For you, it’s Miss Miller,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.
His lips twitched in frustration. “Alright, Miss Miller,” he corrected himself. “Would you allow me to invite you to dinner?”
“I allow it,” I said, crossing my arms. He nodded curtly and turned to leave.
“Is that how you invite someone?” I called after him, watching him freeze mid-step. “When? Where?”
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“Tonight at seven. My house,” he said without turning back.
The rest of the day was a flurry of preparation. By seven sharp, I stood at his door, my heart unexpectedly fluttering. When he opened the door, his expression was as grim as ever.
Inside, he gestured for me to sit at the table. Not even a pulled-out chair—some gentleman.
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During dinner, the conversation was stilted until I mentioned my love for jazz. His face transformed, his usual gloom replaced by a boyish enthusiasm.
“I’d play my favorite record for you,” he said, his voice softer now. “And I’d even invite you to dance, but my record player’s broken.”
“You don’t need music to dance,” I said, surprising myself.
To my astonishment, he rose and extended his hand. As we swayed in the dim light, he hummed a familiar tune, one I hadn’t heard in years. Something inside me softened, and for the first time in ages, I didn’t feel alone.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Afterward, I turned to him. “Mr. Davis, it’s getting late. I should go home.”
He nodded silently, his usual reserved demeanor returning, and walked me to the door.
Before I stepped outside, he hesitated. “You can call me Peter,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
“And you can call me Margaret,” I replied, smiling.
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Then, to my astonishment, he leaned in. For a moment, I froze, uncertain, but when his lips brushed mine, I realized I didn’t want to pull away.
The kiss was gentle and hesitant, but it stirred something I hadn’t felt in years.
As he pulled back, he searched my face for a reaction. I simply smiled, my heart lighter than it had been in ages.
“Good night, Peter,” I said softly, stepping outside. The cool night air met my flushed cheeks, but the smile stayed on my face all the way home—and long after.
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Peter became an irreplaceable part of my days. We spent hours together, laughing over neighborhood gossip, reading books from his vast collection, and trying our hands at new recipes.
While I cooked, he’d hum my favorite songs, filling the house with warmth.
I found a joy I hadn’t known in years, a quiet contentment that made everything else fade.
Kate’s sharp remarks no longer bothered me; my world revolved around Peter.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
On Thanksgiving, I invited him to dinner so he wouldn’t spend the day alone. I noticed him slipping into the kitchen to speak with Kate. Curious, I followed.
“Kate, I wanted to talk to you about the record player,” Peter said, his voice hesitant but firm.
“Mr. Davis, I’ve already ordered it. It’ll arrive soon. You have no idea how grateful I am,” Kate replied with a hint of relief. “You’ve made my life so much easier. I don’t know how you put up with her, but soon the record player will be yours. Thank you for agreeing to this whole charade.”
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The words hit me like a slap. A record player? Putting up with me? A charade? The realization burned through me as anger surged.
“So, this was all a game?!” I burst into the kitchen, my voice trembling with fury.
Kate froze, her face pale. “Oh…” was all she managed.
“Care to explain?!” I shouted, my gaze darting between her and Peter.
Andrew rushed in, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s going on?”
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“Your wife concocted some scheme against me!” I exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Kate.
Andrew sighed deeply. It was as if he was bracing himself for a storm. “Mom, it wasn’t just her. It was my idea too. We thought you and Mr. Davis might make each other happy. Neither of you would have made the first move, so we gave him a little… encouragement.”
“Encouragement?” I repeated, my voice rising.
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“We offered him a record player,” Andrew admitted, his tone measured but guilty. “In exchange for going on dates with you.”
“Andrew, why?” Kate whispered.
“At least my son is honest with me!” I snapped, crossing my arms.
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“Your son was also at his wit’s end with you!” Kate shot back, her voice tinged with frustration. “You were constantly interfering in our lives, nitpicking every little thing I did. And I’m pregnant with your grandchild—I couldn’t handle the stress! So yes, we came up with this plan, and it worked perfectly. You finally had something to do, and I got a break!”
Her words hung in the air, stinging more than I cared to admit. I shook my head, disbelief coursing through me. “You know what, Peter? I could have expected this from her. But not from you.”
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“Margaret, I can explain…” Peter began, stepping toward me.
But I was too angry to listen. I stormed out of the house, my old leg injury reminding me of its presence with every step.
“Margaret!” Peter called after me. “Margaret, wait!”
Spinning around, I glared at him. “What?! What could you possibly say? I’m too old for these games!”
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He stopped, his face clouded with regret. “I told Kate I didn’t need her record player! That I just wanted to be with you!” he shouted, his voice raw with emotion.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you agreed to it at first,” I retorted, my voice trembling.
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“Because you were awful!” Peter snapped, then softened. “Or at least, that’s what I thought. I heard how you constantly picked on Kate, always telling her what to do. But the truth is, I wasn’t any better—grumpy, closed off, and bitter. You changed me, Margaret. You made me feel alive again. You reminded me how to find joy in the little things.”
I hesitated, his words piercing through my anger. “Why should I believe you?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
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Peter stepped closer, his gaze steady. “Because I’ve fallen for you, Margaret. For the meticulous, bossy, always-right woman who also cares so deeply, who cooks meals that feel like home, and who knows all my favorite songs by heart. I love you—all of you.”
Tears welled in my eyes, his confession shaking me to my core. The truth was undeniable—I had fallen for him too. No matter how furious I was, my feelings wouldn’t let me walk away.
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He reached out, gently brushing a tear from my cheek. “I’m sorry for hurting you. Please, give me a second chance.”
I nodded slowly, letting the tension ease. “Alright,” I said, my voice softening. “But you’re keeping that record player from Kate. We’ll need it for our music.” Peter laughed, relief and joy washing over his face.
From that Thanksgiving on, Peter and I were inseparable. Each year, we celebrated the holiday with music playing on that record player, our love growing stronger with every tune.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While navigating a difficult divorce, Ellis meets a bold young man at a bar who offers to transform her life. His charm and confidence seem like the perfect distraction, but their connection soon leads to unexpected revelations that force Ellis to confront her past — and her family — in ways she never anticipated.
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