I Was About to Propose to My Girlfriend on Valentine’s Day When I Accidentally Discovered Her Shocking Secret in Her Google History

For seven years, Jill and I built a life filled with love, trust, and plans for the future. But just days before I proposed, a single glance at her Google search history revealed a secret so shocking it changed everything I thought I knew about the woman I was ready to marry.

Jill and I have been together for seven years. Seven good years. She’s my best friend, my partner, my everything.

A happy couple with their dog | Source: Pexels

A happy couple with their dog | Source: Pexels

She’s the kind of person who lights up a room without trying. She has this easy laugh, the kind that makes people feel at home. She remembers the little things like how I take my coffee, my favorite songs, the way I get grumpy when I’m hungry.

I love her for all of it. We fit perfectly.

A couple having fun in the snow | Source: Pexels

A couple having fun in the snow | Source: Pexels

We love the same music. We travel together, never getting tired of each other’s company. My family loves her like their own, and her family has always welcomed me in. I’ve never doubted her. Not once. That’s why I was going to propose.

I had everything planned. Valentine’s Day. A quiet cabin getaway. Just the two of us. A warm fire, a bottle of wine, and the perfect moment.

A couple at home | Source: Pexels

A couple at home | Source: Pexels

The ring? A simple solitaire, classic and elegant, just like Jill.

I’d pictured it a hundred times. I’d get down on one knee, say something heartfelt, and she’d smile—maybe cry a little—before saying yes. At least, that’s how I thought it would go.

Then, suddenly, things started to change.

A concerned thoughtful man | Source: Freepik

A concerned thoughtful man | Source: Freepik

At first, I told myself I was imagining it. Jill was still there, still saying “I love you,” still kissing me goodbye in the mornings. But something was… different.

The warmth in her voice? It wasn’t the same. The way she looked at me? It felt distant, like she was somewhere else. Little things started adding up.

A couple growing cold | Source: Pexels

A couple growing cold | Source: Pexels

She’d come home and go straight to the bedroom without our usual chat about the day. Her texts got shorter. When I tried to cuddle with her at night, she’d shift away, just slightly, but enough for me to notice.

One night, I found her sitting on the couch, staring at her phone. She didn’t even look up when I walked in.

A woman on her couch looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman on her couch looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

“What’re you looking at?” I asked, sitting next to her.

She jumped, locking the screen. “Nothing.”

I frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.”

That was her answer for everything.

A tired woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels

A tired woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels

A week later, I tried again. We were in bed, lights off, just the hum of the night around us.

“Jill,” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

I hesitated. “Are we okay?”

She turned her head toward me. Even in the dark, I could feel the weight of her stare. “What do you mean?”

A sleepless man in his bed | Source: Midjourney

A sleepless man in his bed | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been… different.” I sighed. “Distant. You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

She was quiet for too long. Then, finally, she reached for my hand.

“I love you,” she said softly.

But it felt… empty.

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

Days passed, and the feeling didn’t go away. She got irritated easily. When I asked if she wanted to grab dinner, she said she wasn’t hungry. When I made a joke, she barely reacted.

One night, she came home late. She looked exhausted.

“Tough day?” I asked.

She rubbed her face. “Yeah.”

A tired woman rubbing her face | Source: Pexels

A tired woman rubbing her face | Source: Pexels

I waited for her to say more. She didn’t. Something was wrong, and I was going to find out what.

That night, I wasn’t looking for anything. I was just on my laptop, checking something quickly before heading to bed. Jill had used it earlier, but that wasn’t unusual.

I clicked on my browser history out of habit. That’s when I saw the questions, search after search.

A man working on his laptop | Source: Pexels

A man working on his laptop | Source: Pexels

“How to tell someone I have a child who I hid for years?”

“How to say it without losing them?”

My stomach twisted. I read the words over and over, my mind struggling to catch up.

A child? A lie? I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

Jill didn’t have a child. We’d been together for seven years. She would have told me. Right? My pulse pounded in my ears.

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

I scrolled further. There were more searches. Some were variations of the same question. Some were even worse.

“Will he hate me if he finds out?”

“Can a relationship survive a huge lie?”

My hands started shaking. I sat back in my chair, trying to breathe. My chest felt tight, like the air had been sucked from the room.

A shocked man looking at his laptop | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man looking at his laptop | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to believe it was a mistake. Maybe she was looking this up for a friend. Maybe it wasn’t what it seemed. But deep down, I knew it was real, and it was about me.

I should’ve waited. I should’ve taken time to think, to process. But I couldn’t. I needed answers. Now.

A serious man looking at his laptop | Source: Midjourney

A serious man looking at his laptop | Source: Midjourney

Jill was in the bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through her phone. The glow from the screen reflected in her eyes, making her look almost peaceful. She didn’t notice me at first.

When she finally looked up, she gave me a soft smile. Forced.

“You okay?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like my ribs would crack.

A smiling woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Jill frowned and set her phone aside. “Babe?”

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my hands clenched into fists. My stomach was in knots, my mind racing. I had thought about waiting—about giving myself time to process before confronting her—but I couldn’t. Not with something like this.

I took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. My throat still felt tight, like I was being strangled from the inside.

A couple having a serious talk in their bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A couple having a serious talk in their bedroom | Source: Midjourney

“I saw your search history.”

Jill’s face went pale. She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

I swallowed hard. “Tell me the truth.” My voice was quieter than I expected. “What child? What lie?”

Her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but no words came out. I waited.

A shocked scared woman | Source: Pexels

A shocked scared woman | Source: Pexels

The tension in the room grew heavier with every second that passed. Then, suddenly, Jill dropped her head into her hands. Her shoulders started shaking.

A choked sob escaped her.

“Jill,” I whispered. “Please.”

She wiped at her face, her breathing ragged. When she finally looked at me, her eyes were red and glassy.

A black and white photo of a crying woman | Source: Pexels

A black and white photo of a crying woman | Source: Pexels

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” she whispered. “But I was scared.”

My whole body felt stiff, like I was frozen in place. “Tell me now.”

Jill squeezed her hands together, her fingers trembling. Her chest rose and fell unevenly. She wasn’t just upset—she was terrified.

She took a deep, shaky breath and let the words fall from her lips.

“I have a child.” The world seemed to stop.

A man talking to his sad wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his sad wife | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, my brain refusing to process what I had just heard. “You… what?”

Her voice was barely audible. “I had her when I was fourteen.”

I couldn’t speak. Jill sniffled, rubbing her hands over her face. “My parents… they raised her as their own.” Her breath hitched. “They told everyone she was their daughter. Even she doesn’t know the truth.”

A man looking at his wife in disbelief | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his wife in disbelief | Source: Midjourney

The room tilted. I felt like I was sinking into the mattress, unable to move, unable to think.

I forced my mouth to work. “So… your little sister…”

Jill nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “She’s not my sister,” she said. “She’s my daughter.”

The air left my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Everything I knew—everything I believed about Jill, about our life together—shifted beneath me.

A shocked man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

Jill’s sister. The girl I had spent holidays with. The one I had joked around with. The one I had watched grow up over the years.

She wasn’t her sister. She was her child.

I felt dizzy. My hands were clammy, my chest tight.

“You’ve lied to me…” My voice cracked. “For seven years?”

A crying woman looking to her side | Source: Pexels

A crying woman looking to her side | Source: Pexels

Jill let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” She sniffled. “At first, I thought it didn’t matter. We were young. It wasn’t something I wanted to bring up. But then… time passed. And the longer I waited, the harder it got.”

I clenched my jaw. “You should have told me.”

A serious man in his bedroom | Source: Freepik

A serious man in his bedroom | Source: Freepik

“I know.” She looked down at her lap, ashamed. “I thought… maybe I’d never have to.”

I let out a hollow laugh. It wasn’t funny, but I didn’t know what else to do. “And what? Just keep pretending she’s your sister forever?”

She wiped at her face, her hands shaking. “I don’t know. I was scared.”

A crying woman in a hoodie | Source: Pexels

A crying woman in a hoodie | Source: Pexels

I ran a hand through my hair, my mind spinning. “Did your parents force you to lie?” My voice was rough, uneven.

Jill exhaled shakily. “Not force. But they made it clear it was the best thing for everyone. They thought it would ruin my life if people knew the truth. So they… took over. And I let them.”

I stared at her, my emotions warring inside me.

Judgemental parents in their living room | Source: Midjourney

Judgemental parents in their living room | Source: Midjourney

“I wanted to tell you,” she whispered. “So many times. But every time I tried, I just—” She shook her head. “I was terrified you’d leave.”

I let out a slow breath. “You should have trusted me.”

Tears streamed down her face. “I know.”

I wanted to be angry, but mostly, I just felt… lost.

A shocked puzzled man | Source: Freepik

A shocked puzzled man | Source: Freepik

Jill sniffled. “Please. Say something.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say.”

She reached for my hand, gripping it tightly. “I love you. That hasn’t changed.”

I looked at Jill—broken, vulnerable, terrified. But she was still my Jill. The woman I loved. The woman I still wanted forever with.

A couple hugging on a couch | Source: Pexels

A couple hugging on a couch | Source: Pexels

So I reached into my pocket, pulled out the ring, and whispered, “Marry me.”

Through her tears, she gasped. “Yes!”

Wedding rings on a table | Source: Pexels

Wedding rings on a table | Source: Pexels

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.

I Found 3 Trash Bags in My Brother and SIL’s Basement – What Was Inside Shocked Me

Seven months pregnant, I agreed to house-sit for my brother and his wife while they vacationed. One afternoon, I stumbled across three mysterious trash bags in the basement. What I found inside made me run for my life and haunts me to this day.

“Run, faster, faster, Celina,” a voice screamed in my head as I stumbled through the dense woods behind my brother’s mansion. Seven months pregnant, I gasped for air, one hand clutching my swollen belly, the other pushing away branches that scratched at my face…

A woman running in the woods | Source: Midjourney

A woman running in the woods | Source: Midjourney

The next bus stop was just beyond these trees. How could I have been so blind? So trusting?

I glanced down at my trembling hands, sticky with drying blood. Wiping them on my dress, I whispered, “We’re safe, my baby. We’re safe. Someone will get us home.”

It all started two weeks ago…

I was curled up on the couch, scrolling through my phone when it buzzed with an incoming call. My brother Victor’s name flashed on the screen.

A smartphone with the screen flashing with an incoming call | Source: Midjourney

A smartphone with the screen flashing with an incoming call | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, big bro! What’s up?” I answered, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension that had been building between us lately.

“Celina! How’s my favorite sister?” Victor’s voice boomed through the speaker. “Listen, I’ve got a huge favor to ask. Anne and I are heading out of town for a week. A friend’s wedding plus a little vacation. Any chance you or Paul could house-sit for us?”

Before I could respond, I heard rustling and then my sister-in-law Anne’s voice came on the line.

“Oh, Celina, you’ll love staying here! Don’t worry about a thing, sweetie. The house practically runs itself.”

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I hesitated, thinking about the cold shoulder Anne had been giving me lately.

Our relationship had become increasingly strained over the past year, ever since Paul’s business took off and our financial situation improved dramatically.

Meanwhile, Victor had faced a string of failed ventures, and I could see the toll it was taking on him and Anne.

Portrait of an upset couple | Source: Midjourney

Portrait of an upset couple | Source: Midjourney

The last straw seemed to be my pregnancy announcement. While the rest of the family had been overjoyed, Anne’s reaction was lukewarm at best.

She didn’t even bother to show up for the gender reveal party, citing being “too busy” when I called to ask why she’d missed it.

I knew it was a lie. Anne and Victor had been trying for years to conceive, with no success due to some health issues she faced. My easy pregnancy seemed to be salt in her wounds.

A gender reveal party | Source: Midjourney

A gender reveal party | Source: Midjourney

There was also the incident last month when Anne hosted a party to celebrate Victor finally landing a big contract. Paul and I weren’t invited, and when I politely confronted her about it later, she brushed it off with a flimsy excuse about “limited space.”

The hurt and confusion I felt then still lingered.

But now, here she was, asking me to house-sit. Was this her way of extending an olive branch? Maybe she was finally ready to move past her jealousy and resentment.

A woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

Despite my reservations, I found myself wanting to believe that this could be a turning point in our relationship.

“Sure, I’d be happy to,” I said, hope creeping into my voice. “When do you need me?”

“Morning, eight, yeah?”

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

As I hung up, my husband Paul walked in, his brow furrowing as he took in my expression.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

A concerned man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A concerned man smiling | Source: Midjourney

I explained the situation, watching as concern clouded his features.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked gently. “Things have been tense with Anne lately.”

I sighed, rubbing my belly absently. “I know, but maybe this is her way of trying to patch things up? Besides, it might be nice to get away for a bit before the baby comes.”

Paul didn’t look convinced, his brow furrowing with worry.

A worried man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A worried man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

“I wish I could join you, but I’ve got those crucial client meetings all week,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Are you absolutely sure about this, darling?”

I nodded, trying to project more confidence than I felt. “It’ll be fine, honey. I can handle it.”

Paul didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

I leaned in, kissing him softly. “I promise. I’ll be fine.”

A pregnant woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

The following morning, I stood outside Victor and Anne’s mansion, waving goodbye to Paul as he drove away after dropping me.

My brother and sister-in-law emerged, suitcases in hand.

“Celina!” Victor swept me into a gentle hug, keeping a distance from my bulging belly. “Thanks again for doing this. We really appreciate it.”

Silhouette of a woman standing outside a mansion | Source: Midjourney

Silhouette of a woman standing outside a mansion | Source: Midjourney

Anne’s smile seemed forced as she air-kissed my cheek.

“Yes, thank you,” she said, her voice overly sweet. “Everything you need is inside. We’ve got to run to the airport. Have a great week, darling!”

And just like that, they were gone, leaving me alone in the massive house.

A worried woman in a mansion | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman in a mansion | Source: Midjourney

I wandered from room to room, feeling oddly out of place.

My phone buzzed with a text from Paul: “Miss you already. Call if you need anything. Love you both. 😘

I smiled, replying quickly before settling onto the couch. As night fell, the house seemed to grow larger and emptier.

The taxidermied animals on the walls seemed to stare back at me, intensifying the feeling that I was being watched.

A pregnant woman sitting amid an eerie display of taxidermied animals | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman sitting amid an eerie display of taxidermied animals | Source: Midjourney

Three days passed in a blur of Netflix binges and long naps.

On the fourth morning, I decided to be a little productive. After my daily call with Paul, I cleaned the kitchen and headed to the basement to check on the furnace.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes fell on three large garbage bags tucked in a corner.

“Weird,” I muttered. “Anne must’ve forgotten to take these out.”

Three fully-loaded trash bags in a basement | Source: Midjourney

Three fully-loaded trash bags in a basement | Source: Midjourney

I snapped a quick picture, sending it to her with a joking message: “Forgot something? Don’t worry, I’ve got trash duty covered!😉”

Seconds later, my phone exploded with notifications. A text from Anne read: “DON’T TOUCH THEM! SERIOUSLY, GET OUT OF OUR BASEMENT! NOW.”

Before I could process her reaction, she called.

I answered, confused. “Anne? What’s wrong?”

“Celina, listen to me,” she hissed. “Get out of the basement. Now. Don’t look in those bags. Just go upstairs and pretend you never saw them.”

A woman gaping in shock as she holds her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman gaping in shock as she holds her phone | Source: Midjourney

“But—”

“Just Go. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, backing away. “I’m leaving now.”

I hung up, my heart pounding. What could possibly be in those bags that would make Anne react like that?

Despite every instinct screaming at me to run, curiosity won out.

An alarmed pregnant woman standing against the backdrop of trash bags in a basement | Source: Midjourney

An alarmed pregnant woman standing against the backdrop of trash bags in a basement | Source: Midjourney

I approached the nearest bag, my hands shaking as I untied the knot.

As I pulled it open, the bag tore and the contents spilled out onto the floor. The moment my eyes registered what lay before me, my blood turned to ice in my veins.

Ritual tools. Decayed chicken bones and feathers. And voodoo dolls. Dozens of crude, handmade dolls, each bearing a photo of MY FACE. Many were stained with a dark, reddish-brown substance and reeked of rot. The stench of decay filled the air, making my stomach churn.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, stumbling backward. “Oh my God, oh my God. This can’t be—”

A voodoo doll with a woman's picture on it | Source: Midjourney

A voodoo doll with a woman’s picture on it | Source: Midjourney

I fumbled for my phone, dialing Paul with trembling fingers.

“Baby,” I choked out when he answered. “I need you to come get me. Now.”

“Celina, breathe,” Paul’s voice crackled through the speaker. “What happened?”

A terrified woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A terrified woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

I tried to explain between gasps, my words tumbling out in a panicked jumble.

“Bags in the basement… voodoo dolls with my face… blood… Paul, I think Anne’s been trying to curse our baby!”

“Jesus Christ,” Paul muttered. “Okay, listen to me. Get out of that house right now. Don’t wait for me, just go to the bus stop on the main road. I’m on my way.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I raced up the stairs, pausing only to grab my purse before bolting out the front door. The woods behind the house offered a shortcut to the road, and I plunged in without hesitation.

A frightened woman running in the woods | Source: Midjourney

A frightened woman running in the woods | Source: Midjourney

Branches whipped at my face as I ran, my pregnant belly making it hard to maneuver. I could hear my ragged breathing, punctuated by the snapping of twigs beneath my feet.

Finally, I burst out onto the road, the bus stop just a few yards away. I collapsed onto the bench, gulping in air, my hands and clothes smeared with dirt and blood from my frantic flight through the woods.

Paul’s car screeched to a halt in front of me minutes later. He leapt out, rushing to my side. “Celina! Are you okay? The baby?”

A startled man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A startled man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

I nodded weakly, allowing him to help me into the car. As we sped away, I recounted everything I’d seen in a shaky voice.

Paul’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted them,” he muttered. “Especially not Anne. The way she’s been acting lately…”

“I can’t believe she’d do this,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “My own sister-in-law… how could she hate me this much?”

Paul reached over, squeezing my hand. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, let’s just get you home and safe.”

A shocked woman holding her face | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman holding her face | Source: Midjourney

The next few days passed in a haze of fear and disbelief.

Anne called repeatedly, but Paul insisted I shouldn’t speak to her until Victor returned. When they finally got back from their trip, I steeled myself for the confrontation.

We met at a neutral location, a quiet café downtown. Victor looked confused and concerned as I recounted what I’d found, while Anne’s face cycled through shock, anger, and finally, defeat.

A shocked young man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked young man | Source: Midjourney

“Is this true?” Victor demanded, turning to his wife. “Have you been… what, practicing witchcraft against my sister?”

Anne’s shoulders slumped. “I… I was jealous,” she whispered. “Your sister got everything so easily… the perfect husband, the thriving business, the baby. I just wanted what she had.”

Victor recoiled in horror. “This is insane, Anne. You need help.”

An alarmed woman looking at a man | Source: Midjourney

An alarmed woman looking at a man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m so sorry,” Anne sobbed, reaching for my hand. I pulled away, shaking my head.

“Sorry isn’t enough. You tried to hurt my baby. I can never forgive that.”

In the weeks that followed, our family splintered. Victor filed for divorce, unable to reconcile with Anne’s actions. My parents were devastated, torn between their children and the shocking betrayal.

As for me, I struggled to shake off the fear and paranoia that had taken root. Every unexplained noise, every twinge in my belly sent me into a panic.

Paul was my rock, holding me through tearful nights and accompanying me to every doctor’s appointment to ensure our baby was healthy.

A sad woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

Slowly, life began to normalize. But as I sat in our nursery, folding tiny onesies and dreaming of the future, I couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of unease.

My phone buzzed with a text from a friend: “How are you holding up?”

I typed out a response, trying to put my jumbled thoughts into words: “Still processing everything. It’s hard to believe someone so close could betray us like that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: don’t blindly trust someone just because you know them. Terror can strike from unexpected places, even from those closest to you. Stay safe out there.🙏🏻

I set down my phone, resting a hand on my belly. Our daughter kicked, strong and healthy despite everything. “We’re okay, little one,” I whispered. “We always will be.”

A woman holding her baby bump | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her baby bump | Source: Midjourney

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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