When my best friend left town for a work trip, she asked me to watch her house. I agreed, not knowing I’d uncover her husband’s betrayal—and his secret plan to take everything from her. But when I told her the truth, she didn’t thank me. She accused me instead.
They said friends were the family you chose. I used to believe that with all my heart. Jessica had been my best friend since college, and even after all these years, we remained close.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
We’d laughed, cried, and shared almost everything. But my intuition had never screamed louder than the day I met Mark, Jessica’s husband. Something about him felt wrong.
Cold eyes with a warm smile. Like someone pretending to be kind but hiding something darker underneath. I didn’t like him then. And I liked him even less now.
One day, Jessica and I were sitting on her porch, like we had so many times before.
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The air was soft with late spring heat, warm but not heavy, and her cat, Taco, sprawled on the sunlit tiles like royalty, one paw twitching in a dream.
Jessica stirred honey into her tea, slow and quiet. Then she looked up at me with that guilty little smile I knew all too well—the kind she wore when she wanted something but didn’t want to ask.
“I need a favor,” Jessica said. Her voice was soft, like she already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming.
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I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “What kind of favor?”
She avoided my eyes. “I’m flying to New York next week. Big marketing pitch. I’ll be gone five days.”
I waited. She still hadn’t asked anything real.
“Could you check in on the house?” she added. “Feed Taco, water the plants, maybe bring in the mail. Just keep it from looking empty.”
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I raised an eyebrow. “And your husband? What’s he doing while you’re gone?”
She looked down at her tea. “He said it’s not really his thing.”
I blinked. “What’s not his thing?”ly
“Taking care of the house. Feeding the cat. He said it’s not a man’s job.”
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I scoffed and shook my head. “So, he can close real estate deals and wear cufflinks before noon, but a can of cat food is too much?”
Her jaw tightened. “Mark’s just not domestic. That’s just how he is.”
I leaned forward. “Jess, I love you. You know that. But you’re doing it again.”
She frowned. “Doing what?”
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“You’re making excuses for him. Again. He doesn’t do much, but you keep defending him. Why?”
Her voice got louder. “You’ve never liked him. From day one. You always look for reasons to hate him.”
“I had reasons, Jess. I still do. My gut said no the moment I met him.”
She pointed a finger at me. “You’re alone, Lee. And that’s not his fault.”
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I flinched. That one hit hard, but I kept my voice steady. “You think I’m jealous? You think I want your life?”
She stood up and crossed her arms. “You never gave him a chance. You decided you didn’t like him before you even heard him speak.”
Before I could answer, the sliding door opened behind her. Mark walked out like he owned the world. Crisp polo. Perfect hair. Phone in hand, thumbs tapping.
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“What are we talking about?” he said. “Me again?”
“Just your refusal to feed the cat,” I said.
He gave that smug smile I hated. “I delegate where it makes sense. It’s called efficiency.”
I turned to Jessica. “He hasn’t looked up from that phone. Who’s he texting so much?”
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“It’s work,” she said. “He has a big client. Real estate.”
I stared at his screen. “Must be a very flirty deal.”
Jessica slammed her glass down. “Enough. If you’re going to keep insulting him, maybe you shouldn’t help.”
I sighed. “I said I’d do it, and I will. For you. Not for him.”
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Mark looked up. “Try not to rearrange the furniture.”
I smiled. “Wouldn’t want to upset your kingdom.”
But I was already planning to keep my eyes open.
It was late afternoon when I pulled into Jessica’s driveway. The sky looked strange—dark clouds rolled in slow, and the air felt still, like it was waiting for something bad to happen.
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I parked and walked up the steps. The back door key was warm in my hand. I unlocked it and stepped inside.
Taco was there right away, rubbing against my leg, purring loud like always. He had no idea what was going on.
I bent down and gave him a quick scratch behind the ears. “Hey, buddy,” I whispered. “Let’s get you some food.”
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I filled his bowl and poured some water, then walked around the kitchen. I checked the plants in the window and the mail on the counter. Everything looked normal. Too normal. That’s when I heard it.
Laughter.
A man’s voice—Mark. And then a woman’s laugh followed.
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I froze at the bottom of the stairs. My heart pounded. I moved slowly, quietly as I could. The bedroom door was open just a little. I stepped closer and peeked in.
Mark was on the bed. Half his shirt was unbuttoned. Next to him was a woman wearing Jessica’s robe, sipping from her favorite glass like she owned the place.
“I told you it would work,” Mark said. He raised his glass and took a sip. “She signed it without reading. Didn’t even ask questions. Just trusted me like always.”
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The woman laughed. “Are you sure this gives you the house?”
Mark leaned back against the pillows. “Yes. Once I get it notarized on Friday, it’s done. She thinks it’s just boring bank papers. Something about refinancing. I made it sound simple.”
The woman looked around the room. “What about all her stuff? Clothes? Books?”
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He waved his hand. “We’ll throw out what we don’t want. Maybe sell a few things. I already packed some boxes. The rest is trash. The cat’s going too.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Wow. She’s going to be crushed.”
Mark smirked. “She won’t be. We’ll be long gone before she knows. I’ve been looking at condos in Miami. Pool, gym, all that. This place will be listed by the time she gets back.”
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I felt sick. I couldn’t listen anymore. My foot hit the edge of the stairs. A soft creak.
Mark’s head turned. “Did you hear that?” he asked, voice sharp.
I didn’t wait. I ran. Down the stairs. Out the back door. Into my car. My hands shook as I grabbed my phone. I hit Jessica’s name.
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“Lee?” she answered. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a woman in your house. With Mark. I saw them. I heard everything. He tricked you into signing papers. He’s stealing your house.”
She didn’t answer right away.
Then she said, “You’re lying.”
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“I’m not. Jess, please believe me—”
“You’ve always hated him. You’ve been waiting for a reason to tear us apart. You’re jealous. And now you’re making up stories.”
“No, I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to protect you.”
Her voice turned cold. “Don’t call me again.”
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Click. The line went dead.
Later that evening, my doorbell rang. I opened it. Mark stood there. Calm. Hands in his pockets.
“She told me everything,” he said. “About your little story.”
I didn’t blink. “I’m not afraid of you.”
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He stepped closer. “You should be. Keep pushing, and someone’s going to get hurt.”
I knew Jessica wouldn’t believe me unless she saw everything with her own eyes. Words wouldn’t be enough.
Not even tears would move her. Jessica was too in love with him. Too loyal. Too proud.
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She wouldn’t walk away without something solid. Proof she could touch. Proof she couldn’t explain away.
That’s why I did something I hated—something that felt cold and cruel, but also right.
I downloaded a fake call app. I set it up to look like the hospital was calling her.
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The message said I had been in a car accident. It said I was in the emergency room and not waking up.
I knew it was wrong to scare her like that, but it was the only thing that would pull her back fast.
And it worked.
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Six hours later, there was a knock at my door. Jessica stood there, breathing hard. Her hair was messy. Her eyes were wide. She looked like she had run the whole way.
“Are you okay?” Jessica asked as she rushed inside. Her face was pale, and her breath came fast. She looked like she had been crying.
“I’m fine,” I said. “There was no accident. I’m not hurt. I made it up.”
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“You lied to me?” she shouted. Her voice shook. “What the hell, Lee? Why would you do that?”
“Because you wouldn’t listen,” I said. “You wouldn’t hear me. I had to bring you back. I needed you to see it for yourself.”
She stared at me, her eyes wide and full of pain. For a moment, I thought she might hit me. But then she took a deep breath and said, “Okay. Show me.”
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We drove to her house. Neither of us spoke. The silence felt heavy.
When we reached her block, I parked a few houses down. We got out and walked slowly. At her window, we stopped and looked inside.
Mark was on the couch with the same woman. They were kissing like they didn’t have a care in the world.
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Jessica didn’t speak. She took out her phone. Her hands shook, but she snapped photo after photo. Her jaw tightened.
“I want to go inside,” she said.
We walked to the door. It was unlocked.
Inside, everything was different. The scent of her favorite candle was gone.
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The hallway was cold and quiet. Black trash bags lined the wall. Boxes were stacked on top of each other.
Sharp words written across them: “JUNK,” “DONATE,” “TRASH.” Her life was being packed away like it meant nothing.
Jessica’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Mark!”
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He turned around fast, eyes wide. “Jessica? What the hell are you doing here?”
She stepped forward. Her voice was loud. Her hands were tight fists at her sides. “What am I doing here? Are you serious? You liar! You cheat! You’re throwing away my life like it’s trash!”
The woman on the couch jumped up. She grabbed her purse and started moving toward the door. “I’ll just—”
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“Sit down!” Jessica snapped. “I’m not finished.”
Mark raised both hands. “Jess, wait. This isn’t what it looks like.”
She laughed, but it sounded sharp and cold. “Not what it looks like? You’re kissing another woman in my house! She’s wearing my robe. Drinking from my glass. You tossed my things in garbage bags. And you’re telling her my house is yours now?”
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Mark looked nervous. “You signed the papers. You didn’t even read them.”
“You tricked me,” Jessica said. Her voice was shaking now. “You told me it was for refinancing. You stood in front of me and lied.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. They’re signed. It’s legal. It’s done. You just ruined everything.”
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Then he turned to me and pointed. “This is her fault. Lee. She’s been against me from the start. She poisoned your mind.”
Jessica took one step toward him. “No, Mark. You did this all by yourself. Lee told the truth. You think you can break me? You think you can take everything I own and leave me with nothing?”
She shook her head. “You’ll be left with nothing. Just your ego. And that won’t help you now.”
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Mark’s face twisted. “You’ll regret this.”
“No,” Jessica said. Her voice was calm now. “You will.”
She pointed at the door. “Get out. Both of you. I don’t want to see either of you in this house again.”
The woman ran out first. She didn’t look back. Mark stood there a second longer.
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His jaw was tight. His fists clenched. Then he turned and walked out. He slammed the door behind him.
Jessica didn’t move. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just stood there. Still and quiet.
I looked at her. “You’re awfully calm.”
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She turned to me. “Because I already knew. I’ve felt it for a while. I knew he was cheating. I saw the strange paperwork. I just didn’t want to believe it. I needed proof.”
“You could’ve told me,” I said.
“I didn’t want it to feel fake,” she said. “I needed him to think I still trusted him. And I needed you to act normal. You did.”
I nodded. “So… you used me?”
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She shook her head. “No. I trusted you. Even when I acted like I didn’t. You stood by me.”
“I always will,” I said.
She gave me a small smile. Then she looked at the bags and boxes. “Let’s clean this up. I’ve got a life to rebuild.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When I found out my husband and my best friend were having an affair, I thought nothing could hurt more. But then my own mother asked me to hand over my children to them — as if I didn’t matter at all. I was broken, but I knew one thing: I wouldn’t let them win.
We Adopted a 4-Year-Old Girl – A Month Later, She Came to Me and Said, ‘Mommy, Don’t Trust Daddy’
A month after adopting Jennifer, she looked up at me with wide eyes and whispered, “Mommy, don’t trust Daddy.” Her words echoed in my mind as I began to wonder what secrets my husband could be hiding.
I looked down at Jennifer’s small face, taking in those big, watchful eyes and the shy, uncertain smile she wore. After all those years of hoping, trying, waiting, here she was, our daughter.
A small happy girl | Source: Pexels
Richard was practically glowing. He couldn’t stop looking at her. It was like he was trying to memorize every feature, every expression.
“Look at her, Marla,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “She’s just perfect.”
I gave him a soft smile, my hand resting on Jennifer’s shoulder. “She really is.”
A happy family and their daughter | Source: Pexels
We’d come such a long way to get here. It had been doctor’s appointments, long talks, and an endless string of paperwork. When we finally met Jennifer, something in me just… knew. She was only four, so little, and so quiet, but she already felt like ours.
It’s been a few weeks since we officially adopted Jen, and we decided it was time for a small family outing. Richard leaned down to her level, smiling warmly. “Hey. How about we go get some ice cream? Would you like that?”
A man talking to his young daughter | Source: Freepik
Jennifer looked at him, then glanced up at me, as if waiting for my reaction. She didn’t answer right away, just gave the smallest nod, pressing herself closer to my side.
Richard chuckled softly, though I could hear a hint of nervousness in it. “All right, ice cream it is. We’ll make it a special treat.”
A man playing with his daughter | Source: Freepik
Jennifer stayed close to me as we walked out. Richard led the way, glancing back every now and then and smiling hopefully. I watched him try to coax her out, to make her feel at ease. But each time he asked a question, Jennifer’s grip on my hand tightened a little, her gaze drifting back to me.
When we got to the ice cream shop, Richard stepped up to the counter, ready to order for her. “How about chocolate? Or maybe strawberry?” he asked, his voice bright.
A man picking out ice cream | Source: Midjourney
She looked at him, then looked at me again, her voice barely a whisper. “Vanilla, please.”
Richard seemed taken aback for just a second, then smiled. “Vanilla it is.”
Jennifer seemed content to let him order, but I noticed she barely looked his way as we sat down. Instead, she ate quietly, staying close to my side. She watched Richard with a cautious sort of interest, not saying much, and I wondered if it was all just too much for her.
A serious young girl | Source: Pexels
Later that evening, as I tucked Jennifer into bed, she clung to my arm a little longer than I expected.
“Mommy?” she whispered, her voice hesitant.
“Yes, sweetie?”
She looked away for a moment, then back up at me, eyes wide and serious. “Don’t trust Daddy.”
A serious girl talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I knelt beside her, brushing her hair back. “Why would you say that, honey?”
She shrugged, but her lips turned downward in a sad little frown. “He’s talking weird. Like he’s hiding something.”
It took me a moment to respond. I tried to keep my voice gentle. “Jennifer, Daddy loves you very much. He’s just trying to help you feel at home. You know that, right?”
A smiling woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
She didn’t respond, just curled up a little tighter under her blankets. I stayed there, holding her hand, wondering where this was coming from. Could she just be nervous? Maybe adjusting was harder for her than I realized. But as I looked at her small, serious face, a faint unease crept in.
When I finally left her room, I found Richard waiting by the door. “How’d she do?” he asked, his face hopeful.
A serious man | Source: Pexels
“She’s asleep,” I replied softly, watching his expression.
“That’s good.” He seemed relieved, but I noticed how his smile wavered just a little. “I know it’s all new for her. For all of us. But I think we’ll be fine. Don’t you?”
I nodded, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of Jennifer’s words echoing in my mind.
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The next day, as I stirred the pasta on the stove, I heard Richard’s voice drift in from the living room. He was on the phone, his tone low and tense. I paused, wiping my hands on a towel, and listened as his words floated into the kitchen.
“It’s been… harder than I expected,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s… sharp. Jennifer’s noticing more than I thought she would. I’m afraid she might tell Maria.”
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I felt my heartbeat quicken, my mind racing to make sense of what I’d heard. Jennifer might tell me? Tell me what? I tried to shake it off, telling myself there must be an explanation. But as I listened, my pulse only pounded harder.
“It’s just… so hard to keep things under wraps,” Richard continued. “I don’t want Marla to find out… not until it’s ready.”
A serious suspicious woman | Source: Freepik
I froze, clutching the countertop. What wasn’t I supposed to find out? What could he possibly be keeping from me? I strained to hear, but then his voice dropped lower, and I couldn’t make out the rest of his conversation. A few moments later, he ended the call and started walking toward the kitchen.
I turned back to the stove, my mind whirling. I stirred the pasta with more force than necessary, trying to act normal as Richard stepped in, looking pleased.
A smiling man looking at his wife cooking | Source: Pexels
“Smells good in here,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
I forced a smile, my hands gripping the spoon. “Thanks. Almost done.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, and I felt my smile falter as his words echoed in my head: I’m afraid she might tell Marla… It’s hard to keep things under wraps.
A woman cooking with a forced smile | Source: Midjourney
Later that evening, after we’d tucked Jennifer in, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I needed answers. I found Richard in the living room, browsing through some paperwork, and sat down across from him, hands clasped tightly in my lap.
“Richard,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt, “I overheard you on the phone earlier.”
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He looked up, raising an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and… something else crossing his face. “Oh?” he said, clearly caught off guard. “What did you hear?”
I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “I heard you say that Jennifer might… tell me something. And that it’s hard to keep things ‘under wraps.'” I met his gaze, my heart pounding. “What are you hiding from me?”
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For a moment, he just stared at me, his face a mixture of confusion and worry. Then, as understanding dawned, his expression softened. He set his papers aside and leaned forward, reaching for my hand.
“Marla,” he said gently, “I’m not hiding anything bad. I promise.” His grip on my hand was warm, reassuring, but it didn’t settle the knots in my stomach.
A frustrated man | Source: Pexels
“Then what is it?” I whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. “What don’t you want Jennifer to tell me?”
Richard took a deep breath, his face breaking into a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want you to find out because… well, I was planning a surprise for Jennifer’s birthday. With my brother’s help.” He squeezed my hand, looking slightly embarrassed. “I wanted it to be a big deal, a special first birthday with us.”
A serious man talking on his couch | Source: Midjourney
I blinked, not quite processing his words at first. “A surprise party?” I asked slowly, the tension in my chest easing just a bit.
He nodded. “I wanted it to be perfect for her. I thought we could show her how much we care. That she’s part of our family now.” He smiled, looking a little relieved. “I knew Jennifer might say something, and I was worried she’d ruin the surprise.”
A surprise party for a small girl | Source: Midjourney
A wave of relief washed over me, though I felt a strange pang of guilt. Here I’d been imagining… well, I didn’t even know what I’d been imagining. “Richard,” I whispered, lowering my head, “I’m so sorry. I just… I thought there was something wrong.”
He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over my hand. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. You were so stressed after the adoption process, so I took all the planning upon myself. It’s a surprise for both of you!”
Man and woman holding hands | Source: Pexels
I nodded, trying to let go of the doubts that had taken hold of me. “I think Jennifer’s just… protective,” I said, trying to explain. “She doesn’t know what to expect, and when she told me not to trust you… I guess it just got to me.”
Richard gave a thoughtful nod. “She’s a sensitive kid. I think she’s still finding her way.” He looked at me, his expression earnest. “We’ll just have to make sure she feels safe and loved. All three of us.”
A happy couple talking on the couch | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, as I watched Richard gently help Jennifer pick out her breakfast cereal, I felt my heart lift a little. He looked over at her with so much patience, and even though she barely glanced up, I could see the trust slowly building between them.
I walked over and joined them at the table, my hand resting on Jennifer’s shoulder. She looked up at me, her eyes calm, and a small smile crept across her face. It was as if she could sense the new peace between us, as if some unspoken worry had finally lifted.
A happy family playing together | Source: Pexels
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