Woman Uses Face Cream Mom-in-Law Gave Her, Faints after Looking in Mirror the Next Morning – Story of the Day

Pauline’s birthday took an unexpected turn when she applied a new cream gifted by her estranged mother-in-law, Annalise. But she never imagined that she would be staring at the mirror in horror the next morning. What had Annalise done?

The aroma of freshly baked cake wafted through Pauline’s modestly decorated living room.

Streamers hung from the ceiling, and a small pile of gifts adorned the coffee table.

Pauline, a woman in her early thirties, with warm brown eyes and a hesitant smile, sat on the couch, surrounded by her immediate family.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Her husband, Carl, a tall man with kind features, handed her a gift. “This one’s from Mom,” he said, his voice tinged with surprise.

Pauline’s eyes widened as she accepted the package. She glanced at Annalise, her mother-in-law, who sat stiffly in an armchair across the room.

The older woman’s face was neutral, but her eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness.

“Thank you,” Pauline said softly, carefully unwrapping the gift.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Inside was an expensive skincare set from a well-known brand.

Pauline’s surprise was evident as she examined the products. “Oh, wow. I love this brand,” she exclaimed, looking up at her mother-in-law. “Thank you, Annalise. This is very thoughtful.”

Annalise nodded curtly. “I read that women like these things nowadays. I ordered it online.”

Despite the kind and seemingly normal exchange, everyone in the room could sense the tension.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For years, Pauline and Annalise had been at odds, to put it nicely. They had vastly different personalities, and the older woman wasn’t keen on boundaries.

It wasn’t until Carl threatened to cut contact that Annalise became more reserved and did not cause so many conflicts with Pauline.

Therefore, this gesture, however small, felt like a tentative step towards reconciliation.

As the party wound down and guests left, Pauline found herself in the bathroom, examining the skincare products.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Carl joined her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“I’m shocked that your mother bought me something,” Pauline said, unscrewing the lid of one of the creams.

Carl nodded with a hopeful smile on his face. “I’m just as surprised. But this could be good for all of us, right?”

Pauline agreed, applying the cream to her face. “These things are expensive. I can’t wait to see how my skin looks in the morning.”

But as they settled into bed that night, neither could have expected what happened the following morning.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

Pauline stirred awake and felt the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. However, it wasn’t pleasant as always. Something felt off.

Her face burned, and her eyelids felt heavy and crusty. Blinking slowly, she tried to focus on her surroundings.

“Ouch,” she mumbled, reaching for her face. The moment her fingers touched her skin, a searing pain shot through her. “Oh God!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

She bolted upright, ignoring the way her skin seemed to pull and crack with every movement. Stumbling to the bathroom mirror, Pauline let out a strangled gasp at her reflection.

Her face was a mess of angry red patches and peeling skin. Some areas looked raw as if the top layer had been completely stripped away.

“Carl!” she cried out, her voice trembling with fear and pain.

Her husband rushed to her side, his face paling at the sight. “Jesus, Pauline! What happened?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Before she could respond, Pauline’s vision blurred, and she felt herself falling. The last thing she heard was Carl’s panicked shout as darkness enveloped her.

When Pauline regained consciousness, she found herself in a white, sterile hospital room. The steady beep of monitors filled the air, and the smell of antiseptic stung her nostrils.

Carl sat beside her, his face etched with worry. “Pauline, baby. How are you feeling?” he asked, squeezing her hand gently.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Before she could respond, a doctor entered the room. “Mrs. Patterson, I’m Dr. Rawlings,” she introduced herself with a professional but kind tone. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Pauline recounted using the skincare products she had received as a gift. As she spoke, realization dawned on her face. “The cream… it must have been the cream,” she whispered, gaping at her husband.

Dr. Rawlings nodded gravely. “The cream you used was a professional-grade chemical peel, not meant for home use. It’s typically only used in medical spas under strict supervision.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Pauline’s mind raced as she considered what the doctor said. After a few seconds, she connected the dots.

“Annalise,” she breathed, turning again to Carl with wide, horrified eyes. “Your mother did this on purpose!”

Carl’s face hardened as he started shaking his head. “I can’t believe she would go this far,” he muttered, frowning.

As if summoned by their words, Annalise burst into the room, and her face was full of concern. “Carl! Your sister called me with the news. Pauline, what happened?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Pauline’s reaction was immediate and visceral. “You did this!” she screamed as tears streamed down her damaged face. “YOU HORRIBLE WOMAN! YOU RUINED MY FACE ON PURPOSE!”

Annalise recoiled. “What? No! I didn’t! I swear!” she said, hurt, and placed a hand on her chest. “I… I saw the products online, and they had good reviews… I didn’t know they were so strong…”

Carl stood up, and anyone could see the rigidness of his body. He was trying to hold back his anger. “Mom, you need to leave. Now. We don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Annalise tried to protest, but several nurses came in to usher her out of the room. When she was gone, Pauline collapsed into sobs, overwhelmed by the idea that her mother-in-law could cause her such harm.

***

Hours passed in a blur of doctors, nurses, and worried family members.

Pauline drifted in and out of sleep thanks to the pain medication which had dulled her senses. When she awoke again, she found Carl speaking quietly with Dr. Rawlings near the door.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Carl?” she called out weakly.

He was by her side in an instant, relieved. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like my face is on fire,” Pauline replied, attempting a smile. “What’s going on?”

Carl took a deep breath, seeming to brace himself. “Mom… she’s been trying to explain something.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Pauline felt her heart rate increase, and the monitor beside her began to beat faster. “What could she possibly have to say?”

“She said she didn’t do this on purpose,” Carl began cautiously. “She says she’s been seeing a therapist, trying to work on herself and our family relationship.”

Pauline’s brow furrowed, wincing at the pull of her damaged skin. “A therapist? Your mother?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Carl nodded, looking as surprised as Pauline felt. “I know, it’s hard to believe. But she showed me some receipts, and her therapist even called to confirm.”

As Carl explained further, Pauline’s anger began to give way to confusion and a glimmer of something else… hope?

“She told me that she saw the products online, recommended by some influencer,” Carl continued, rolling his eyes at the idea. “She didn’t know it was professional-grade. She was just trying to get you something nice.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Pauline closed her eyes, processing this information. Could it be true? After years of hostility, could Annalise truly be trying to make amends?

“I think… I think I’d like to talk to her,” Pauline said finally, although she was still in disbelief.

When Annalise entered the room, her usual composed demeanor was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her hands twisted nervously in front of her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Pauline, I… I’m so sorry,” Annalise began, her voice almost breaking. “I never meant for this to happen. I’ve been trying so hard to be better, to fix things between us. I know I haven’t been the best or easiest mom-in-law…”

As Annalise spoke, pouring out her heart about her therapy sessions and her genuine desire to be a part of their family without their previous animosity, Pauline felt something shift within her.

The anger and resentment that had built up over the years began to disappear. She always felt inclined to believe people who truly wanted to change.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Pauline was big on second chances, but it was still difficult.

“I want to believe you,” she said softly. “I want us to move past this. For Carl, for the kids… for all of us.”

Annalise’s eyes filled with tears. “You have no idea how much that means to me. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

While they talked, Carl brought in the skincare products for the doctors to examine.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

It was confirmed that while the products were indeed professional-grade, they were readily available online without proper warnings.

“I’m afraid, Mrs. Patterson, that you should’ve been more careful with the instructions here,” Dr. Rawlings said carefully. “This chemical peel says it’s strong and can’t be used for over five minutes.”

“So, it’s my fault?” Pauline asked, shocked. Carl held her hand in comfort, and Annalise shook her head.

“No, it’s an easy mistake, unfortunately,” the doctor continued. “But it was dangerous.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

After the doctor left, Pauline laughed awkwardly, and the sound broke the tension. She and Carl apologized to Annalise for immediately jumping to conclusions, but the older woman understood why.

After how I behaved before, I understand,” Annalise said and smiled at Pauline through teary eyes. It was a genuine grin that only proved how sincere she was.

So, in that hospital room, a new chapter began for their family.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Pauline reached out, taking Annalise’s hand in hers. “Let’s start over,” she said, smiling back. “Clean slate. Just… maybe hold off on any more gifts for a while, okay?”

Annalise let out a tearful laugh, nodding vigorously. “Deal.”

My MIL Gave Me Shoes for My Birthday – I Was Shocked When I Lifted the Insole

Jess is suspicious when her icy MIL gifts her expensive shoes for her birthday. Her worst fears come true when she wears them on a business trip, and the TSA discovers something suspicious hidden inside. Now, she must unravel if this gift was an attempt at sabotage or something even darker.

I should have known better than to trust a gift from Debbie. On looking back now, the warning signs were all there — the too-sweet smile when she handed me the box, the way her eyes glinted with something that wasn’t quite kindness.

A woman with a surprised look on her face | Source: Midjourney

A woman with a surprised look on her face | Source: Midjourney

But what was I supposed to do? They were just shoes, right? Beautiful patent leather yellow shoes with a wide heel, exactly my style. And for once, my mother-in-law seemed to be making an effort.

“Oh, they’re lovely,” I’d said, forcing enthusiasm into my voice while Arthur beamed beside me. “Thank you, Debbie.”

She’d waved her hand dismissively. “Well, I noticed you always wear such… practical shoes. I thought you might want something nice for once.”

A woman speaking | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking | Source: Midjourney

The barb was there, wrapped in silk, just like always. But I’d smiled and nodded, just like always. That’s what you do when you’re trying to keep the peace, right? When your husband loves his mother, and you’re trying to be the bigger person?

Besides, it wasn’t the first time she’d taken little jabs at me.

There was the Christmas dinner where she’d pointedly asked Arthur if he remembered how his ex-girlfriend Sarah made “the most divine turkey.”

A roast turkey | Source: Midjourney

A roast turkey | Source: Midjourney

Or when she’d shown up unannounced on our anniversary with old photo albums full of Arthur’s childhood pictures and stayed for three hours.

Every visit was an exercise in diplomatic relations, with me playing the role of ambassador to a hostile nation.

“She’s just set in her ways,” Arthur would say after particularly tense encounters. “Give her time.” But we’d been married for over a year now, and if anything, her behavior had gotten worse, not better.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t wear the shoes for a week. They sat in their box, pristine and accusing, until my business trip to Chicago came up. Arthur lounged on our bed, scrolling through his phone as I packed my suitcase.

“You should wear Mom’s shoes,” he suggested. “Show her you appreciate them.”

I ran my finger along the smooth leather. “Yeah, maybe I will.”

“I think she’s trying, you know,” he added, looking up from his screen. “That this is her way of extending an olive branch.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

If only I’d listened to my gut instead of his optimism.

The first hint of trouble came at the airport. Something felt off. Like there was something in my left shoe, but when I took it off to check, there was nothing there. Just pristine leather and that new-shoe smell.

“Everything okay?” The businessman behind me in the security line looked impatient, checking his watch for the third time in a minute.

A business man in an airport | Source: Midjourney

A business man in an airport | Source: Midjourney

“Fine,” I muttered, slipping the shoe back on. “Just breaking in new shoes.”

But it wasn’t fine. With each step toward security, the sensation grew worse — a persistent pressure against the ball of my foot, as if something was trying to push its way out.

By the time I reached the conveyor belt, I was practically limping. It was a relief when the TSA officer asked me to remove my shoes and put them on the belt.

An airport security officer | Source: Midjourney

An airport security officer | Source: Midjourney

The TSA officer’s face told me everything before he even opened his mouth.

He’d been scanning items with the practiced boredom of someone who’d seen it all, but something made him sit up straight, eyes narrowing at his screen.

“Ma’am, step aside, please.”

My stomach dropped. “Is there a problem?”

A worried woman in an airport | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman in an airport | Source: Midjourney

He pointed to the X-ray screen, where something dark and dense lurked in the outline of my left shoe. “We need to examine this more closely. Please remove the insole.”

The businessman who’d been behind me in line shot me a suspicious look as he retrieved his laptop. A mother pulled her young daughter closer as they passed.

My cheeks burned as I sat down and worked at the insole with trembling fingers.

“Need some help?” A female officer had appeared, snapping on blue latex gloves.

A woman putting on blue latex gloves | Source: Pexels

A woman putting on blue latex gloves | Source: Pexels

“I… I don’t understand,” I stammered. “These were a gift from my mother-in-law. I just wore them for the first time today.”

The insole finally peeled back with a soft ripping sound. There, nestled in a cavity that had been carefully carved into the sole, was a small package wrapped in plastic. Green-brown contents showed through the clear wrapping.

The original officer’s expression hardened. “Can you explain this?”

A stern airport security officer | Source: Midjourney

A stern airport security officer | Source: Midjourney

“Those aren’t my shoes. I mean, they are, but they were a gift. I didn’t know—” My voice cracked. “Please, I have no idea what that is. I’m supposed to be giving a presentation in Chicago tomorrow morning.”

“We’ll need to test the contents,” he cut me off. “Please wait here.”

Twenty minutes felt like 20 years. I sat on a hard plastic chair, watching other travelers stream past, imagining headlines: “Marketing Executive Caught Smuggling Drugs.”

AN anxious woman | Source: Midjourney

AN anxious woman | Source: Midjourney

I thought about calling Arthur but couldn’t bear explaining this over the phone. What would he think? What would he say to Debbie?

The senior officer who finally arrived to speak to me had kind eyes above his stern mouth. “The preliminary tests show no controlled substances in this package,” he said. “But we can’t allow you to take it on your flight, just in case. You understand this could have been a serious situation?”

“Yes, sir.” I fought back tears of relief. “I’m so sorry for the trouble.”

A relieved woman speaking to an airport security officer | Source: Midjourney

A relieved woman speaking to an airport security officer | Source: Midjourney

“Be more careful about what you carry through security,” he warned as he released me.

I stared at the package the TSA officer placed into my palm. Part of me wanted to throw it away, but I hurriedly tossed it into one of the airport lockers before jogging to catch my flight.

I barely made it and spent the entire trip to Chicago with my mind racing. Why would Debbie do this? What was she trying to accomplish?

Each possibility I considered seemed more outlandish than the last, but they all pointed to one unavoidable conclusion: my mother-in-law had deliberately set me up.

A woman staring thoughtfully out a plane window | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring thoughtfully out a plane window | Source: Midjourney

I took the bag to a lab for testing immediately after I returned home. When the results came back, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

I stared at the report, my coffee growing cold beside me. Mugwort. Yarrow. St. John’s Wort. According to my frantic Google searches, these herbs were used in folk magic. They were used for spells meant to drive people away, sever connections, or “protect” someone from unwanted influences.

Debbie had tried to use magic to get rid of me.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

That evening, I waited until Arthur and I had finished dinner. He was loading the dishwasher, humming under his breath, when I finally worked up the courage.

“We need to talk about your mother,” I said.

He turned, dish soap bubbles clinging to his hands. “What’s wrong?”

I told him everything about the airport, the herbs, and what I’d discovered about their supposed magical properties.

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

His face grew darker with each word, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he clenched it.

“She’s never wanted me in your life. This proves it. I was almost arrested because of this stunt, Arthur. All because she can’t accept that you chose me.”

Arthur dried his hands slowly, methodically, like he needed the simple task to ground himself.

“I knew she was having trouble accepting you, but this…” He shook his head. “This is something else entirely. It’s on a whole other level, and it’s unforgivable.”

A man staring at his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man staring at his wife | Source: Midjourney

“What are we going to do?”

He looked at me, and I saw the pain in his eyes. But there was also determination. “I’m going to call her right now. And then I’m going to tell her that until she can admit what she did and genuinely apologize to you, she’s not welcome in our home.”

“Arthur, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” He took my hand, his grip firm and sure.

A man reassuring his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man reassuring his wife | Source: Midjourney

“She crossed a line, Jess. She tried to hurt you and made you look like a criminal. I love my mother, but I won’t let her destroy my marriage. You’re my family too, and it’s time she understood that.”

I leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek. The shoes sat in our closet, a reminder that sometimes the most dangerous gifts come wrapped in the prettiest packages.

As Arthur reached for his phone, I knew we’d weather this storm together and be stronger for facing it head-on.

A resolute woman | Source: Midjourney

A resolute woman | Source: Midjourney

Maybe that’s what really drives Debbie crazy: knowing that every attempt to separate us only brings us closer together.

Maybe someday she’ll realize there’s enough room in Arthur’s heart for both of us. Until then, we’ll keep our distance, and I’ll be more careful about accepting gifts.

Here’s another story: At Amanda’s wedding, simmering tensions with her disapproving mother reach a breaking point when a cruel “gift” pushes Amanda to her limit. Faced with an unforgivable moment of betrayal, she must decide whether to stand up for her fiancé or risk losing everything.

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.

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