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 Accidentally Found a Hidden Nanny Cam in My Bathroom and Went Pale When I Learned Why My 11-Year-Old Son Put It There
Finding the hidden camera tucked under my bathtub was terrifying, and realizing my son had put it there was even worse. But his tearful explanation made me realize he was on a mission to reawaken a part of me I thought was lost forever.
The jigsaw puzzle on our kitchen table had stayed the same for weeks, and I was getting worried. My son, Drake, and I used to love them, but things were much different now.
A puzzle on a table | Source: Pexels
These days, he would rush straight to his room after school and shut the door firmly behind him. That is… after coming home later than usual.
I stirred the pasta sauce and checked my phone again: 6:45 p.m. Two hours late, just like yesterday. Through the kitchen window, I watched our neighbors walking their dogs and laughing together.
Our house used to buzz with that kind of energy. Now it felt like Drake and I were living in separate worlds, connected only by quick hellos and leftover dinners. Did this happen to all pre-teens?
A woman concerned | Source: Pexels
A few minutes later, the front door creaked open.
“Hey, Mom.” Drake’s voice floated through the hallway, followed by the thud of his backpack hitting the floor.
“Kitchen,” I called out happily. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
He poked his head around the corner. I saw his messy hair covered by a backward baseball cap. Something about his eyes made me feel like my boy was back, even for just a second.
Boy with a backwards baseball cap | Source: Pexels
But they soon darted to the floor when I looked at him. I knew something was going on, but I had no idea how to address it. My boy almost seemed older than his few years.
“Sorry I’m late. Chess club ran long.”
“Chess club?” I raised my eyebrows. “Yesterday it was math tutoring. And Tuesday was yearbook committee.”
“Oh yeah, I do all those now.” He shuffled his feet. “Can I eat in my room? Got tons of homework.”
Math book and notebook | Source: Pexels
I gripped the wooden spoon tighter, accidentally dripping tomato sauce onto the stovetop, and decided enough was enough. “Drake, what’s really going on?” I asked, turning and putting one hand on my hip.
“Nothing! I told you, just busy with school stuff,” he shrugged and moved further into the kitchen. Without meeting my gaze, he grabbed a plate, scooped up some pasta, and disappeared before I could press further.
Pasta dish | Source: Pexels
I sighed and wondered to the heavens for the millionth time if I should intervene. Maybe I wouldn’t get an answer from up above, but I could try to find some of my own.
I checked the hallway, and his door was shut as usual, but he had left his backpack in the living room. It was my chance.
Inside, crumpled between textbooks, I found a piece of paper with an address scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting: “1247 Maple Street. Don’t be late. This is it.”
Backpack on the floor | Source: Unsplash
What was going on? I wondered, horrified.
***
That night, I found myself going through his old baby photos, spread across my bedroom floor like pieces of a life I barely recognized anymore.
There he was, two years old, grinning with spaghetti sauce all over his face. That happy little boy used to tell me everything. Now he barely looked at me.
Toddler covered in spaghetti sauce | Source: Midjourney
The parent-teacher conference from last week played in my head.
“Drake seems… distracted lately,” Mrs. Peterson had said, sliding his failed math test across her desk. “He’s been falling asleep in class. When he’s awake, he’s always scribbling in his notebook, but it’s not notes from the lesson.”
How could he be getting a grade like that with math tutoring? Was it time to pull the plug on all other clubs?
A math test | Source: Pexels
Either way, I knew sleep wouldn’t come, so I decided to take a shower.
The bathroom was my sanctuary, the one place I could relax and belt out old songs without anyone hearing. Tonight’s selection was “Sweet Child O’ Mine.”
The steam rose around me as I hit the chorus, and I remembered how I used to dream of being on stage.
A woman washing her hair | Source: Pexels
“Where do we go now?” I sang, letting my voice soar like it used to at the coffee shop open mics when my future hopes were far grander than what reality allowed.
Sadly, those wishes were extinguished the moment, Tom, Drake’s father and my ex, left us for his new family in Seattle.
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past again. The present was much more important. I finished cleaning myself up and exited my shower. As I dried my hair, I felt the pull on my ear and heard a clink on my tiled floor.
A woman drying up | Source: Pexels
My earring! I bent down to get it and saw the crystal’s shining light reflecting from just under the bathtub. Except… something else caught my eye.
There, hidden under the edge, was an old nanny cam I used when Drake was a baby. And it was ON. I immediately went pale. But I examined the angle. It would only be recording my feet. I didn’t get it.
Still, my hands shook as I took it and carefully wrapped myself in a towel to march straight to Drake’s room. The sound of his furious typing stopped when I pounded on the door.
A woman holding a small camera | Source: Pexels
“Just a minute!” he called out, and I heard drawers being opened and shut. What in the world?
“Drake, open this door right now!”
Finally, I heard footsteps and the door swung open.
He stood there in his oversized gaming headphones, and his own face turned white as soon as I held up the nanny cam.
A boy with headphones | Source: Pexels
“Drake, what is this? Why was this hidden in the bathroom?!” I asked, as my anger and bravado turned to extreme worry.
When he remained silent, I gulped and asked, “Have you been… recording me in the bathroom?”
His eyes widened at that. His expression was terrified. “Oh no… Mom, you weren’t supposed to find that. IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK. I can explain!”
“Then start explaining.” I pushed past him into his room and looked at his computer. The screen showed some kind of video editing software. Oh, no! What is he doing?
A laptop on a desk | Source: Pexels
But before I could panic more, Drake spoke. “I…” He slumped onto his bed. “You weren’t supposed to find out yet.”
“Find out what? That my son is making videos of…” I couldn’t even say it.
“No! Mom, listen,” he pleaded as tears welled up in his eyes. “Remember when you used to sing at the coffee shop open mics? Before Dad left?”
The question caught me off guard. “What does that have to do with anything?”
A woman looking confused | Source: Pexels
“You were so happy then. Now you only sing in the shower, when you think no one can hear you.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve. “But you’re still amazing, Mom. I wanted to show you that.”
He reached for his laptop and turned it toward me. His fingers pressed play, and suddenly, the screen showed me… well, a music video.
I saw a sunset over the city and streets filled with people chasing their dreams. But the main part was the soundtrack with my voice, clear and strong. It was playing “My Way.”
A sunset over New York | Source: Pexels
“I met an old man, Mr. Arthur. I’ve been going to his studio after school,” Drake continued. “He’s been teaching me video editing. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, show you that you shouldn’t give up on your dreams just because…”
“Because your father left?” The words stuck in my throat.
“He owns all these old instruments, and he lets me practice drums while he teaches me about making videos.” Drake’s words tumbled out faster now. “I’ve been doing extra chores for neighbors to pay for studio time. Mr. Arthur says I have a good eye for it.”
A drum set | Source: Pexels
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you worry about everything now.” His voice cracked. “Ever since Dad left, it’s like you stopped believing in good surprises. I thought if I could just finish the video, show you how amazing you still are…”
Tears welled and fell before I could stop them. All this time, I’d been so worried about what he was hiding. Never once did I consider he might be worried about me too.
A woman crying | Source: Pexels
“You could have just talked to me,” I said softly, wrapping my arms around him.
“Would you have listened?” He looked up at me, suddenly seeming older than 11. “You always say you’re fine, but I hear you crying sometimes. And you never sing anymore, except in the shower.”
I pulled him close, feeling his thin shoulders shake. “I’m sorry, baby. I guess we’ve both been keeping too many things inside.”
We stayed in silence for a few minutes before I remembered something. “Oh! Is Mr. Arthur’s studio on 1247 Maple Street?”
A music studio | Source: Midjourney
“Yes!” Drake said, but then frowned. “How did you know?”
“In the interest of honesty…” I began and confessed to rummaging through his backpack. Shockingly, we just laughed at each other.
***
The next day, we visited Mr. Arthur’s studio together. He turned out to be a gentle giant with calloused hands and kind eyes, surrounded by dusty guitars and vintage recording equipment.
Music equipment | Source: Pexels
“Your boy’s got talent,” he told me and showed me more of Drake’s videos. “And so do you.”
And now that the secrets were out, Drake and I finally finished the jigsaw puzzle together. I also sang outside the shower for the first time in years.
What’s more, next week, I’m singing at the coffee shop again. My son will be there, recording every moment. This time, I won’t be afraid of a little camera.
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