Thirteen years ago, I adopted my late husband’s secret twin daughters after his fatal car crash revealed his double life. I gave them everything, but at sixteen, they locked me out of my home. One week later, I discovered the shocking reason for their actions.
The morning Andrew died began like any other. The sun had just started peeking through my window, painting everything in a soft, golden light that made even my shabby countertops look almost magical.
It was the last normal moment I’d have for a long, long time.
A woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
When the phone rang, I almost didn’t answer it. Who calls at 7:30 in the morning? But something, intuition maybe, made me pick up.
“Is this Ruth?” A man’s voice, formal, hesitant.
“Speaking.” I took another sip of coffee, still watching the steam dance.
“Ma’am, I’m Officer Matthews with the Police Department. I’m sorry to inform you, but your husband was in an accident this morning. He didn’t survive.”
A shocked woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
The mug slipped from my hand, shattering against the linoleum. Coffee splashed across my bare feet, but I barely felt it. “What? No, that’s… no… not my Andrew!”
“Ma’am…” The officer’s voice softened. “There’s more you need to know. There was another woman in the car who also died… and two surviving daughters. Records in our database confirm they’re Andrew’s children.”
I slid down the kitchen cabinet until I hit the floor, barely registering the coffee soaking into my robe.
A woman collapsed in shock | Source: Midjourney
The room spun around me as ten years of marriage shattered like my coffee mug. “Children?”
“Twin girls, ma’am. They’re three years old.”
Three years old. Three years of lies, of business trips and late meetings. Three years of another family living parallel to mine, just out of sight. The jerk had been living a whole other life while I’d been suffering through infertility treatments and the heartache of two miscarriages.
Close up of a shocked woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure I was. Not really. “What… what happens to them now?”
“Their mother had no living relatives. They’re currently in emergency foster care until—”
I hung up. I couldn’t bear to hear more.
A cell phone | Source: Pexels
The funeral was a blur of black clothes and pitying looks. I stood there like a statue, accepting condolences from people who didn’t know whether to treat me like a grieving widow or a scorned woman.
But then I saw those two tiny figures in matching black dresses, holding hands so tightly their knuckles were white. My husband’s secret daughters.
One had her thumb in her mouth. The other was picking at the hem of her dress. They looked so lost and alone. Despite the hurt of Andrew’s betrayal, my heart went out to them.
Twin three-year-old girls | Source: Midjourney
“Those poor things,” my mother whispered beside me. “Their foster family couldn’t make it today. Can you imagine? No one here for them except the social worker.”
I watched as one twin stumbled, and her sister caught her automatically like they were two parts of the same person. Something in my chest cracked open.
“I’ll take them,” I heard myself say.
Mom turned to me, shocked.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“Ruth, honey, you can’t be serious. After what he did?”
“Look at them, Mom. They’re innocent in all this and they’re alone.”
“But—”
“I couldn’t have my own children. Maybe… maybe this is why.”
The adoption process was a nightmare of paperwork and questioning looks.
A woman and a man going through paperwork in an office | Source: Pexels
Why would I want my cheating husband’s secret children? Was I mentally stable enough? Was this some form of revenge?
But I kept fighting, and eventually, Carrie and Dana became mine.
Those first years were a dance of healing and hurting. The girls were sweet but wary as if waiting for me to change my mind. I’d catch them whispering to each other late at night, making plans for “when she sends us away.”
It broke my heart every time.
A woman standing outside a bedroom door | Source: Midjourney
“We’re having mac and cheese again?” seven-year-old Dana asked one night, her nose wrinkled.
“It’s what we can afford this week, sweetie,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “But look — I put extra cheese on yours, just how you like it.”
Carrie, always the more sensitive one, must have heard something in my voice. She elbowed her sister.
“Mac and cheese is my favorite,” she announced, though I knew it wasn’t.
A bowl of macaroni and cheese | Source: Pexels
By the time they turned ten, I knew I had to tell them the truth. The whole truth.
I’d practiced the words a hundred times in front of my bathroom mirror, but sitting there on my bed, watching their innocent faces, I felt like I might throw up.
“Girls,” I started, my hands trembling. “There’s something about your father and how you came to be my daughters that you need to know.”
They sat cross-legged on my faded quilt, mirror images of attention.
Twin ten-year-old girls sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
I told them everything about Andrew’s double life, their birth mother, and that terrible morning I got the call. I told them how my heart broke when I saw them at the funeral and how I knew then that we were meant to be together.
The silence that followed felt endless. Dana’s face had gone pale, her freckles standing out like dots of paint. Carrie’s lower lip trembled.
“So… so Dad was a liar?” Dana’s voice cracked. “He was cheating on you?”
A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney
“And our real mom…” Carrie wrapped her arms around herself. “She died because of him?”
“It was an accident, sweetheart. A terrible accident.”
“But you…” Dana’s eyes narrowed, something hard and horrible creeping into her young face. “You just took us? Like… like some kind of consolation prize?”
A frowning girl | Source: Midjourney
“No! I took you because—”
“Because you felt sorry for us?” Carrie interrupted, tears streaming now. “Because you couldn’t have your own kids?”
“I took you because I loved you the moment I saw you,” I reached for them, but they both flinched back. “You weren’t a consolation prize. You were a gift.”
A woman explaining herself | Source: Midjourney
“Liar!” Dana spat, jumping off the bed. “Everyone’s a liar! Come on, Carrie!”
They ran to their room and slammed the door. I heard the lock click, followed by muffled sobs and furious whispers.
The next few years were a minefield. Sometimes we’d have good days when we went on shopping trips or cuddled together on the sofa for movie nights. But whenever they got angry, the knives came out.
A teen girl shouting in her bedroom doorway | Source: Midjourney
“At least our real mom wanted us from the start!”
“Maybe she’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you!”
Each barb found its mark with surgical precision. But they were entering their teens, so I weathered their storms, hoping they’d understand someday.
Then came that awful day shortly after the girls turned sixteen.
A woman glancing over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney
I came home from work and my key wouldn’t turn in the lock. Then I spotted the note taped to the door.
“We’re adults now. We need our own space. Go and live with your mom!” it read.
My suitcase sat by the door like a coffin for all my hopes. Inside, I could hear movement, but no one answered my calls or pounding. I stood there for an hour before climbing back into my car.
A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney
At Mom’s house, I paced like a caged animal.
“They’re acting out,” she said, watching me wear a path in her carpet. “Testing your love.”
“What if it’s more than that?” I stared at my silent phone. “What if they’ve finally decided I’m not worth it? That I’m just the woman who took them in out of pity?”
“Ruth, you stop that right now.” Mom grabbed my shoulders.
A stern woman | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been their mother in every way that matters for thirteen years. They’re hurting, yes. They’re angry about things neither of you can change. But they love you.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because they’re acting exactly like you did at sixteen.” She smiled sadly. “Remember when you ran away to Aunt Sarah’s?”
I did. I’d been so angry about… what was it? Something trivial. I’d lasted three days before homesickness drove me back.
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
Five more days crawled by.
I called in sick to work. I barely ate. Every time my phone buzzed, I lunged for it, only to be disappointed by another spam call or a text from a concerned friend.
Then, finally, on the seventh day, I got the call I’d longed for.
“Mom?” Carrie’s voice was small and soft, like when she used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms. “Can you come home? Please?”
A woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
I drove back with my heart in my throat.
The last thing I expected when I rushed through the front door was to find my house transformed. Fresh paint coated the walls, and the floors gleamed.
“Surprise!” The girls appeared from the kitchen, grinning like they used to when they were little.
“We’ve been planning this for months,” Dana explained, bouncing on her toes. “Working at the mall, babysitting, saving everything.”
A grinning teen girl | Source: Midjourney
“Sorry for the mean note,” Carrie added sheepishly. “It was the only way we could think of to keep it a surprise.”
They led me to what used to be their nursery, now transformed into a beautiful home office. The walls were soft lavender, and there, by the window, hung a photo of the three of us on adoption day, all teary-eyed and smiling.
“You gave us a family, Mom,” Carrie whispered, her eyes wet. “Even though you didn’t have to, even though we were a reminder of everything that hurt. You chose us anyway, and you’ve been the best mom ever.”
An emotional girl holding back tears | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my girls close, breathing in the familiar smell of their shampoo, feeling their hearts beat against mine.
“You two are the best things that have ever happened to me. You gave me a reason to keep going. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“But we do know, Mom,” Dana said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “We’ve always known.”
A woman hugging her daughter | Source: Midjourney
My Husband Yelled at Me Because the Sounds of Me Cleaning Distracted Him from Work – And Then I Saw What This ‘Work’ Really Was
When I married my husband, I thought we both wanted the same things. I carried the whole household, thinking I was supporting him in whatever work he did from his home office until I discovered what the “work” actually was.
For the past three years, I’d been married to Jake, a man who called himself “the busiest man on Earth.” That’s how he justified locking himself away in his home office for hours on end. But one day I became privy to his “work,” and everything changed between us.
A man working | Source: Midjourney
Jake often spoke of “building our future,” a phrase he used so often it might as well have been his motto. I believed him. I wanted to. Isn’t that what love is? Supporting your partner, even when it’s hard?
To ease his stress, I took on all the other work. I raised our two children, managed the house, and even worked part-time to help stretch our tight budget. But lately, everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers—our finances, my sanity, and, most painfully, my trust in Jake.
An exhausted woman | Source: Midjourney
Although our bills were always late and the struggle was constant, I trusted him when he promised that he was “so close” to a breakthrough. He spent most of his days locked in his bare “office,” saying he was in “important meetings” or “crunching numbers.”
I was forced to adjust our whole lives to support him, including keeping the children as quiet as possible and timing my chores to avoid disturbing him. Our days followed a predictable pattern.
A woman keeping her children busy | Source: Midjourney
Jake would wake up early, scarf down breakfast with a quick “Got a big meeting today,” and then disappear into his so-called “war room.” He called it that as if he were strategizing for a global takeover. But for all his ambition, our bills remained overdue.
But yesterday was different, and things changed drastically from that point onward…
A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney
It was a Wednesday, the kind of day that dragged on forever. The kids were out of school, which meant extra chaos because they became restless. Tyler, my youngest, kept running circles around the dining table with the dog barking in gleeful harmony.
My older daughter, Mia, was practicing her cartwheels in the living room. All the while, I scrubbed the kitchen counters, trying to keep some semblance of order while also making an effort to be as quiet as possible.
A woman cleaning | Source: Midjourney
“Keep it down!” I hissed at Tyler as he whooshed past me. “Daddy’s working.”
“But Mommy,” he whined, clutching the dog’s collar, “Scruffy wants to play!”
I sighed. I didn’t have it in me to argue. Jake had locked himself in his office hours ago. He’d reminded us at breakfast, “I’ve got a critical meeting today. Zero interruptions.” I nodded, like always, though the words stung. Zero interruptions had become our family’s unofficial rule.
A man giving instructions | Source: Midjourney
As I wiped down the stove, my mind wandered. When was the last time Jake and I really talked? Not about bills or the kids, but about us? About anything real? I shook off the thought, focusing on the task at hand.
Then it happened.
When Tyler ran through chasing the dog, he frightened me and the frying pan slipped from my hand, clanging against the tile floor with a sound so loud it made Mia scream and my son laugh.
“Oops!” Tyler giggled, his hands flying to his mouth.
A boy laughing | Source: Midjourney
The next moment, Jake burst out of his office, his face red and eyes blazing! “Can YOU not keep it down for one single minute?!” he roared, startling the kids into silence. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is during a work meeting?”
I froze, clutching the counter for support. “Jake, I—”
He cut me off, his voice dripping with frustration. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? I’m in there busting my ass, and you can’t even manage to keep things quiet!”
A man shouting | Source: Midjourney
The kids were staring at us, wide-eyed and silent. Tyler clung to Scruffy’s fur as if the dog could shield him from the tension. I opened my mouth to apologize, but then I heard it, a woman’s voice. Soft, playful, and utterly out of place in our home.
I turned toward the office door, my stomach tightening. “Jake,” I said slowly, “who’s in there?”
His face turned from anger to panic in an instant. “It’s just a client,” he stammered, blocking the doorway. “Stay out of it.”
An upset and defensive man | Source: Midjourney
But I wasn’t buying it! My gut twisted with suspicion as I pushed past him and stepped into the room.
The sight before me was surreal! The computer screen displayed a bright, cartoonish online game. In the corner of the screen was a video call window, and inside it was a bubbly, animated avatar labeled “SUZYLOVELY88.” The avatar giggled as if this were the funniest thing in the world.
“What is this?” My voice came out shaky but firm.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Jake’s panic morphed into indignation. “It’s my hobby,” he said, puffing out his chest like he always did when cornered. “You’re always so boring! I need an escape! Suzy gets me. She’s fun to talk to, unlike you.”
I felt like I’d been slapped!
“Your hobby?” I repeated, my voice rising. “You’ve been locking yourself in here, pretending to work, while I’ve been breaking my back to keep this family afloat? And for what? To talk to some stranger online?!”
An angry woman shouting | Source: Midjourney
“She’s not just some stranger!” Jake snapped, his face flushed. “She actually listens to me, which is more than I can say for you.”
I blinked, stunned into silence. The kids peeked around the corner, their curious eyes darting between us. I gestured for them to go to their rooms, and thankfully, they obeyed.
Turning back to Jake, I felt my anger boil over. “Do you hear yourself?” I said, my voice trembling with emotion.
An angry woman shouting | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve sacrificed everything for you—for us! And you’ve been sitting here, wasting time on this… this nonsense?”
Jake scoffed, his bravado crumbling. “Maybe if you weren’t so naggy and exhausted all the time, I wouldn’t need this.”
Tears streamed down my face, but I didn’t care. Getting angry again, he added, “You know what? I’m done! I’m going to Suzy! She actually makes me happy!”
He stormed out of the office, grabbed a duffel bag from the bedroom closet, and started stuffing in clothes without looking at me. I followed him, trying to talk some sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen. And just like that, he was gone.
An upset man leaving his home | Source: Midjourney
The next day passed in a blur. I vacillated between anger, heartbreak, and an odd sense of relief. The house felt quieter, not just physically but emotionally. The kids kept asking when Daddy was coming home, and I gave them the same answer each time: “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
On the second day, Jake’s mother called. I hadn’t expected it, and the desperation in her voice caught me off guard.
“Sweetie,” she began, “I know you’re upset, but I need to tell you something.”
A woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
“What is it?” I asked, bracing myself.
Her voice quivered as she explained. “Jake drove hours to meet Suzy. But… she wasn’t who he thought she was.”
My heart sank. “What do you mean?”
“Suzy,” she continued, “isn’t a woman. He’s a middle-aged man with a beard. He’s been catfishing Jake for months and even convinced him to send money for ‘plane tickets.’ My son’s devastated!”
An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
The absurdity of it hit me like a wave, and before I could stop myself, I burst into laughter! Real, deep, uncontrollable laughter. It felt good, like releasing years of pent-up frustration.
“So, all along he really wasn’t working?” I asked curiously.
“No, sweetie, he played video games for some money but wasn’t making much. Whatever little he got, some of it he sent to this Suzy person. Please,” his mom pleaded. “He’s humiliated. He wants to come home.”
A desperate woman | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath, my laughter fading. “No,” I said firmly. “Jake made his choices. I’ve spent too long putting myself last. I’m not doing it anymore.”
When Jake tried calling to ask to come back, I told him I wanted a divorce and that I was taking everything. I offered to let him keep his laptop. “Maybe you’ll find a better ‘Suzy’ next time.”
Not having much to his name and having cheated online, my husband couldn’t fight me much, and I got everything, including the kids.
A sad man | Source: Midjourney
In the weeks that followed, I began rebuilding my life. I found a full-time job and enrolled the kids in daycare. It was scary, but every step I took felt like a step toward freedom. The weight of carrying Jake’s burdens was gone, and I felt lighter than I had in years!
One night, as I tucked Tyler into bed, he looked up at me with big, curious eyes. “Mommy,” he whispered, “are we gonna be okay?”
I smiled, brushing his hair back gently. “Yes, sweetheart,” I said with a confidence I hadn’t felt in years. “We’re going to be more than okay.”
And for the first time, I truly believed it.
A content woman and her son | Source: Midjourney
Unfortunately, Jake’s wife isn’t the only woman who has had to deal with a secretive husband, but in the following story, the truth is something worse and completely unexpected. It changes the woman’s life for the better.
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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