A controlling woman kicks her daughter-in-law out of the house with her newborn child, only to find herself in appalling conditions years later.
Abbie and Jonathan were married for three years when they welcomed their son, Timothy. They lived in Austin, Texas, with Jonathan’s mother, Susan, who wasn’t the worst by all accounts but wasn’t the best either.
Susan’s problem was that she wanted total control over everything, especially Jonathan’s life. To her relief, she was always successful since Jonathan was a “mama’s boy” who never went against her.
However, things began to change when Abbie came into Jonathan’s life. He began to devote a significant percentage of his attention to her, making Susan believe that Abbie was pulling him away from her.
Eventually, Abbie got the impression that Susan despised her, so she advised Jonathan that they move out. But he politely declined, saying, “Oh darling, come on! You know how mom is! She may seem harsh on the outside, but she is soft on the inside. She adores you just as much as she adores me.”
But Abbie knew that wasn’t the case, and her worst fears proved true one day…
Mrs. Norris wasn’t supportive of Abbie and Jonathan’s relationship. | Source: Pexels
“GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE WITH THAT BABY!” Susan yelled at Abbie as she and Jonathan returned from the hospital following Timothy’s birth. She didn’t even go to the hospital for Abbie’s delivery because she despised her. And once Abbie was home, she already had a brilliant plan to get rid of her “pathetic” daughter-in-law.
“Susan, what’s the matter?” Abbie stared at her, bewildered. She didn’t understand why the woman would say something like that to her.
“Good Lord! Susan?” she whispered in disbelief on seeing her mother-in-law in such a terrible condition.
“What’s the matter with me?” she retorted. “That boy is not my son’s blood! He looks nothing like my son!” she lied, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Susan!” Abbie yelled back, teary-eyed. “How could you say such a thing? He’s your grandson…Jonathan,” she said, turning to her husband. “Why aren’t you saying anything? You know he’s—”
Before Abbie could finish, Susan cut her off. “Stop bewitching my son with those crocodile tears of yours! You’ve already wrecked his life. Pack your things and get lost!” she repeated and grabbed Jonathan’s arm, pulling him to her side.
Mrs. Norris ordered Abbie to leave the house. | Source: Pexels
“Jonathan….” Abbie looked at him with hopeful eyes, but he didn’t utter a word. Instead, he stood by his mother’s side and lowered his head in shame.
Abbie couldn’t believe Jonathan didn’t say anything to his mother, even if it meant losing his son! She realized whatever was happening to her was probably the worst thing she’d ever faced, but she reasoned it was probably for the best if she moved away from the toxicity. So she packed her belongings and left Susan’s home to live with her parents.
Several years went by and Abbie had raised Timothy on her own, giving him the finest of everything. Fortunately, she also healed from the pain of her toxic marriage with Jonathan and took the first step towards divorce and a happy life with her son as a single mother.
A few years after the divorce, she found love again when she crossed paths with a man named Edward at Timothy’s school. He was a widower with a daughter, Caroline. He and Abbie fell in love and got married.
Abbie felt her life was complete after marrying Edward. She had a wonderful family, an excellent job, two beautiful children, and a devoted husband. She never thought about the horrific past again until something unexpected happened one day…
Abbie took a drastic step and became a single mom. | Source: Pexels
After dropping Caroline and Timothy off at school, Abbie was on her way to work when she noticed an elderly woman dumpster diving for food.
“Good Lord!” she sighed as she came to a halt and glanced at the woman. “What misery did she go through to have to eat from a dumpster?”
Abbie reached into her handbag for cash and got out of the car to offer it to the woman. But as she got closer, something about the woman’s filthy clothes made her stop.
She recognized the woman’s coat and immediately came to a halt in the middle of the street until a car blew its horn, interrupting her thoughts. When the homeless woman turned around to face her, Abbie’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Good Lord! Susan?” she whispered in disbelief on seeing her mother-in-law in such a terrible condition. “Susan, what happened to you? What are you doing here?” she asked worriedly as she dashed over to her.
Mrs. Norris was looking through trash for food. | Source: Shutterstock
With tears in her eyes, the older woman stared at her. “Abbie? Forgive me for what I did, sweetheart,” she pleaded, bursting into tears. “Please forgive me! I’m starving! I haven’t eaten in days….” She fell at Abbie’s feet and wouldn’t stop crying.
Abbie never liked Susan, but she wasn’t so heartless that she would leave her like that on the streets. So she took a day off from work and accompanied the older woman to a restaurant.
As Susan finished eating, Abbie gently asked, “Susan, how did you end up like this? Where’s Jonathan?”
“All I can say is I paid for my sins, sweetheart,” she sighed, teary-eyed. “I lost everything I had. My Jonathan is no longer with me. He left me alone, and I was so miserable after that….”
Susan wouldn’t stop crying as she revealed that Jonathan was returning home from work one day when he was attacked and robbed by some hooligans. He tried to fight back, but he eventually succumbed to the injuries and died before reaching the hospital.
Jonathan’s death left Mrs. Norris miserable. | Source: Pexels
After the terrible accident, Susan almost lost her mind. Every night, she would sit for hours on her son’s bed, clutching his things and crying. She didn’t want to do anything or interact with anyone. She eventually gave up on life and began roaming the streets.
“I still have the house, but it’s so empty without him. It comes back to bite me when I go back there. I don’t want to be there. I want to run away from all the bad memories…All the bad things I did to you, oh, I regret them so much. Will you please forgive me? I beg of you!” she pleaded, trembling.
Seeing Susan’s dreadful situation, Abbie knew she had already had her fair share of suffering for her wrongdoings, so softening her heart for the older woman, she decided to let go of the past and forgive her.
“It’s all right, Susan,” she said. “I don’t have anything against you or Jonathan. In fact, I’m happy I went on with my life because I now have a beautiful husband and two wonderful children.”
Susan was surprised. “You remarried?”
Abbie was happy with her married life. | Source: Pexels
“Yes! And I am very happy with my life now,” Abbie replied, smiling.
Susan felt a tinge of jealousy, and she dropped her head in shame. But Abbie forgave her and decided to help her out, so Abbie started visiting her home and helping her around the house once in a while.
She also told Edward everything, and he was very sympathetic and supportive. Leaving the horrific past behind them, they now often invite Susan to their home and spend time with her so that she does not feel alone.
What can we learn from this story?
- One day, everyone pays the price for their wrongdoings. Susan ruined Abbie and Jonathan’s relationship and paid the price for it when she found herself all alone.
- Good things always happen to good people. Though Abbie’s divorce from Jonathan was devastating, it ultimately resulted in a much happier life for her and Timothy.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a mom who asks her old neighbor to babysit her children only to return home and find them missing.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story 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.
I Accidentally Discovered My Husband’s Cheating through an IG Post — My Public Yet Dignified Revenge Shook His World
During her seemingly joyous baby shower, Lora exposes her husband’s infidelity through a slideshow that shocks not only him and his mistress but also family and friends gathered under the guise of celebration. Follow along with this dramatic unmasking that not only shatters the facade of a happy family but also sets the stage for a decisive and meticulously planned fallout.
As I watched the soft morning light filter through the curtains, I cradled our six-week-old daughter, Lily, in my arms.
It was just another quiet morning, except it wasn’t. Tom was packing his suitcase again for the first time since Lily was born.
Before, his frequent travels were just a part of our routine—I’d kiss him goodbye and count the days until his return. But this time, everything felt different.
“Are you sure you have everything?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as Tom moved around our bedroom, gathering his belongings.
“Almost ready, Lora. I just need to grab a few more things,” Tom replied, his voice calm and reassuring. He glanced at Lily, sleeping peacefully against my chest. “I know this is hard. It’s just a week.”
A week. Seven days might not seem long, but to a new mom still figuring out how to juggle sleepless nights and endless diapers, it felt like an eternity.
“I just… I’ve never been alone with her, not really. What if I do something wrong?” My voice cracked slightly with the weight of my unspoken fears.
Tom stopped and sat next to us on the bed. He took my hand in his, squeezing gently. “Lora, you’re doing amazing. Honestly, you’re a natural at this. And hey, I’m just a phone call away, okay?”
I nodded, attempting a brave smile. “I know. It’s just—all those nights we talked about teamwork and now, suddenly, I have to do this solo.”
“We are still a team,” he reassured me, brushing a kiss on Lily’s forehead. “No matter where I am, we’re in this together.”
As he zipped up his suitcase, the reality of the impending solitude pressed down on me. I wasn’t just scared; I was terrified of being alone, not for my sake, but for Lily’s. What if she needed more than I could give?
Tom pulled us into a hug, his suitcase standing at the door like an unspoken barrier. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. “We’ll get through this. We always do.”
And with that, he was gone. I watched his car disappear around the corner and closed the front door gently behind me.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of feedings, diaper changes, and tender moments trying to soothe Lily’s fussing. By the time her cries finally gave way to sleep, the sun had set, leaving a calm evening to unfold.
I walked to the kitchen, poured myself a cup of hot chocolate, and sat on the balcony of our bedroom to unwind. It was my moment of respite, a brief pause in the constant demands of new motherhood.
I picked up my phone and opened Instagram, eager to immerse myself in something other than chores and diapers—a much-needed escape into the virtual world.
I scrolled through the vibrant pictures, catching glimpses of lives uninterrupted by the relentless needs of a newborn. Deep down, I felt a pang of longing—for the days when spontaneity was a given, not a luxury.
That’s when I stumbled upon our local celebrity, Anna Wren’s page, and without a second thought, I began browsing through her latest posts, unaware of the shock that was about to hit me.
She was celebrating at a new high-end restaurant downtown, her smile as radiant as the flash on the camera. The caption boasted about a night out with friends, a reminder of the world outside my baby-centric universe.
I zoomed in on the photo to admire the restaurant’s chic decor—a blend of modern and vintage that gave it a cozy yet elegant vibe. That’s when I saw them. In the softly blurred background, unmistakable even from a distance, was Tom.
He was sitting across from a woman, engaged in what looked like an animated conversation. I squinted, my heart pounding as recognition dawned.
It was Eliza, his university friend—the one who had never hidden her disdain for me. The one he had assured me was just a friend, someone I shouldn’t worry about.
The hot chocolate turned cold in my hands as I stared at the screen, my mind racing. Why hadn’t he told me about meeting her?
He was supposed to be on a business trip, confined to meetings and solo dinners, not cozy catch-ups with old friends who clearly didn’t think much of his wife.
Feeling a mix of anger and betrayal, I took a screenshot of the image. My next steps were unclear, but I knew I needed to confront him. This wasn’t just about his whereabouts; it was about trust, about the reality of our partnership now tested by distance and silence.
My mind was a tangled mess of emotions as I replayed the scene from Anna’s Instagram over and over. Tom, my husband, the father of our daughter, was on more than just a business trip. He was out there betraying our family.
But I wasn’t going to let my shock cloud my judgment. I needed to be strategic, meticulous.
First, I confirmed the hotel where Tom was staying by matching it with Anna’s tags about her influencer event. I had to be sure, absolutely sure.
So, I called my friend Mia, who had never met Tom. I asked her to do something that felt straight out of a spy movie—go to the hotel and take photos discreetly.
The pictures she sent back left no room for doubt: there was Tom and Eliza, unmistakably close, holding hands, kissing—a bitter confirmation of my worst fears.
The urge to confront him was overwhelming, yet I chose to wait. I planned every move with precision, as if setting up dominoes.
Quietly, I began funneling money into a separate account, knowing I might need every penny for what was coming. I met with a divorce attorney to understand my rights and the implications, especially concerning our newborn daughter, Lily.
His next business trip was my opportunity. I sent a bouquet of flowers to Tom’s hotel room with a note, carefully imitating Eliza’s handwriting, “Thank you for a wonderful evening, I can’t wait for many more.”
It was subtle but sharp, a dagger cloaked in velvet. The flowers were timed to arrive when Eliza was likely with him, planting seeds of doubt and paranoia.
When Tom returned, I kept my composure as if nothing had changed. Yet, under the calm surface, I was orchestrating the final act of my plan.
I suggested a belated baby shower, a seemingly innocent celebration with our close friends and family. I insisted we invite Eliza, claiming it would be nice to finally connect with his friends from Uni.
Tom, surprised by my suggestion, hesitantly agreed.
The day of the shower, our home filled with laughter and light chatter, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me. As guests cooed over Lily and exchanged pleasantries, I prepared the last piece of my revenge.
Midway through the event, I started a slideshow—cute photos of Lily, her milestones, and us as a new family. I even threw some in there with Tom’s extended family members.
Then, as the room hummed with warmth, the images shifted. There on the screen was the Instagram photo of Tom and Eliza in the background, unnoticed until now. The room fell silent. The next photos were Mia’s—clear shots of Tom and Eliza’s intimate moments.
The reaction was immediate and visceral. Whispers erupted around the room; Tom’s face drained of color, turning him ghostly pale. Eliza, caught in the glaring truth, stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor as she rushed out, humiliated.
The aftermath was chaotic. The room was still buzzing with the murmurs of our stunned friends and family as Tom turned to me, desperation etching his features. “Lora, please, let me explain. It’s not what it looks like,” he pleaded, his voice cracking under the strain.
I looked at him, my expression steady and resolute. “Save it, Tom. There’s nothing you could say to change what I saw. What we all saw.”
“But Lora—”
“No,” I cut him off firmly. The decision was made. “I’ve heard enough, Tom. Your actions spoke louder than your words ever could.”
I turned away from him, addressing the room briefly. “Thank you all for coming today. I think it’s best if we end the gathering now.”
As the guests slowly filed out, the whispers of disappointment and sympathy followed them out the door. Once everyone had left, I dialed my attorney, the evidence of Tom’s betrayal clear and undeniable. “I want to proceed with filing for divorce,” I informed her, my voice steady, backed by a painful certainty.
“Understood,” my attorney replied. “I’ll prepare the necessary paperwork. We have everything we need.”
Days later, the fallout continued. Tom’s parents, having learned of the incident, invited him over. I wasn’t there, but I heard about it from Tom later, his voice hollow. “We can’t believe you would do something like this,” his mother had said, disappointment heavy in her tone.
“We’re removing you from our will. You need to think about the consequences of your actions, especially how they affect your daughter.”
Tom recounted the meeting to me over the phone, a note of disbelief in his voice. “They’re serious, Lora. I’ve lost everything.”
“Yes, Tom,” I replied, my tone devoid of warmth. “You have.”
Whatever came next, I knew we would face it together, just me and my Lily, and that was enough.
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