They say love makes you blind, and I guess I was living proof of that. When my husband, Kyle, quit his job, claiming he was sick, I trusted him without question. I worked harder and gave him every dollar I had. But the truth I uncovered? It shattered everything.
When you love someone, you never expect them to lie. Especially about something as serious as their health. But looking back, I should have seen the signs.
I missed them all until a stranger rolled down her car window and told me something I never saw coming.
A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney
Being a mom and wife has always been my pride and joy. My days were a whirlwind of work, chores, and family time, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I’m a project manager at a software company, and I really love my job. It pays me enough to support my little family.
Our two boys, Liam and Jake, are my biggest motivators.
Two brothers standing together | Source: Midjourney
Liam, 12, has a curious mind and a talent for science. He’s always tinkering with gadgets or asking a million questions about how things work. Meanwhile, Jake, 10, is our little athlete. He’s the kind of kid who’s always kicking a soccer ball or racing his bike around the neighborhood.
And then there’s Kyle, my husband of 15 years.
Kyle has always been my rock. He’s the calm to my chaos, the steady presence that keeps our family grounded.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
He worked as an operations manager at a logistics company, a job that kept him busy but provided well for us.
There were times when I’d look at him across the dinner table, watching him laugh with the boys or share stories about his day, and think, I’m so lucky.
Life was good.
But that all changed one afternoon when Kyle walked through the front door, holding a folder in his hands and looking like he’d seen a ghost.
A worried man | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, you’re home early,” I said, glancing up from my laptop. But the moment I saw his expression, I knew something was wrong.
His face was pale, his lips pressed tightly together as he set the folder down on the table.
“Kyle? What happened?” I stood and walked over to him, my heart pounding in my chest. “Is everything okay?”
He looked up at me, and his eyes had this look I couldn’t quite figure out.
Was it fear? Regret? I still don’t know.
“Laura,” he began, his voice shaky, “I have muscular dystrophy.”
A worried man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
I froze. “What?”
He sat down heavily, rubbing his face with both hands.
“I’ve been feeling off for months. I went to the doctor, ran some tests… This is why I’ve been so tired.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I can’t work anymore,” he continued. “I’ll need expensive treatment, but it’s my only chance.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Muscular dystrophy. The words echoed in my mind, making my stomach twist.
I sat down across from him, reaching for the folder.
A person holding a folder | Source: Pexels
Inside were test results, doctor’s notes, and medical papers. Everything looked serious.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but… I need to start treatment. I think we’ll need to cancel the trip with the boys. I hate to do this to them, but…”
I reached across the table, taking his hands in mine. “Kyle, stop. The boys will understand. We’ll figure this out. You’re going to get the treatment you need.”
Tears welled up in his eyes. “I hate that you have to deal with this.”
A man looking away | Source: Midjourney
“I’m your wife,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We’ll get through this together.”
But as I sat there, staring at those papers, a cold, creeping fear settled over me. How would we afford this?
Later that night, as we lay in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“We’ll need more money,” I murmured, staring at the ceiling.
Kyle turned to me. “Laura, I don’t want you working yourself to death for me.”
A worried man looking at his wife in bed | Source: Midjourney
“I can handle it.” I turned to face him, determination in my eyes. “I’ll get a part-time job after work. We’ll cut back on expenses. You’ll quit your job and focus on your health.”
His lip quivered. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.”
The next day, I went to a neighborhood restaurant and got a job cleaning tables in the evenings. After finishing my day at the software company, I’d head straight there to clean.
It was exhausting, but I didn’t care.
A person cleaning a countertop | Source: Pexels
I handed almost all the money I made to Kyle for his treatment. And I could see how he was changing. He looked happier and more relaxed.
Seeing that gave me the strength to keep going, even when I felt like collapsing from exhaustion.
The routine became second nature. Work all day, clean tables at night, and fall into bed exhausted.
I was running on fumes, but every time I saw Kyle smile or heard him say, “Thank you for everything, Laura,” it felt worth it.
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
He kept going to his treatments during the weekdays while I was at work.
“It’s best if I go alone,” he’d say. “I don’t want you missing work for this.”
I never questioned it. I trusted him completely.
But then one evening, something strange happened.
I was on my way to the restaurant, clutching my coat against the chilly wind when a white SUV pulled up next to me. The window rolled down slowly and inside sat a striking woman with dark glasses and perfectly styled hair.
A white SUV | Source: Pexels
She leaned over the passenger seat. “Are you Laura?”
I froze, tightening my grip on my bag. “Yes… Who’s asking?”
She took off her sunglasses, revealing sharp, piercing eyes. “Is Kyle your husband?”
“Yes,” I said. “Why? Is he okay?”
The woman tilted her head slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Oh, he’s more than okay. But you should really check where he goes for his ‘treatments.’ And while you’re at it, look at his bank statements.”
I blinked, stunned. “What? Who are you? What are you talking about?”
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
She pressed her lips together like she was debating how much to say.
“Let’s just say I’m doing you a favor,” she said before rolling the window back up. The SUV then drove off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk in a daze.
What the heck was that about?
The whole walk to the restaurant, her words echoed in my mind. Why would a random woman say something like that? And how did she know Kyle?
A woman walking on a street at night | Source: Pexels
When I got home that night, Kyle was already asleep.
I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock, my mind racing. Something about that encounter wasn’t sitting right with me.
The next morning, Kyle grabbed his usual bag and kissed me on the cheek before heading out.
“I’ll be back around three,” he said. “I’ve got two procedures today. The other one’s at night.”
“At night?” I asked.
“Yeah, my therapist scheduled a special session today.”
“Okay,” I said, forcing a smile. “Take care.”
As soon as he left, I went straight to his laptop. My hands shook as I opened his banking app. I told myself I wasn’t snooping. I just needed peace of mind.
A woman using her husband’s laptop | Source: Pexels
But as I scrolled through the transactions, my stomach dropped.
There were no payments to medical facilities. No hospital charges. No doctor’s fees. Nothing.
Instead, I saw restaurant bills, golf club memberships, expensive clothing stores, and even a charge for a weekend trip to a resort I’d never heard of.
What the heck?
I scrolled faster, hoping I was missing something. But it was all there in black and white.
Kyle wasn’t paying for treatments. He was spending our money on luxury items. Things we never discussed. Things I never approved.
A woman looking surprised while using her husband’s laptop | Source: Midjourney
By the time I closed the laptop, I was trembling. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Later that evening, I decided to follow him when he left for his “special session.”
I stayed a safe distance behind, my heart pounding with every step.
But Kyle didn’t go to a hospital or a clinic.
He went to a small bar downtown. The kind of place where people went to relax and unwind.
A neon ‘bar’ sign | Source: Pexels
I stood outside that bar, frozen in place, watching Kyle laugh and joke with his friends. It felt like I was watching a stranger. The man inside wasn’t the sick, struggling husband I thought I knew.
He was someone else entirely.
I took a deep breath and stepped closer to the window, just in time to hear him speak.
“I told you I could do nothing for three months,” Kyle said, raising his glass. “And you were wrong!”
His friends burst out laughing, clinking their glasses together.
A man laughing | Source: Pexels
“Man, I still can’t believe you pulled this off,” one of them said. “Your wife really bought it?”
Kyle chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Hook, line, and sinker. Told her I was too sick to work. Now I’ve got all the time in the world to hang out with you guys.”
They laughed again, loud and carefree, while my heart shattered into pieces.
“And she’s still giving you money?” another friend asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
A man sitting in a bar | Source: Midjourney
“Yep.” Kyle took a sip of his wine, looking smug. “She even picked up a part-time job to make sure I’m covered. I gotta say, being married to someone so gullible has its perks.”
His words cut through me like a knife. My mind reeled with images of him sitting at home, watching me rush from one job to the next, while he lived it up with his friends.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned around and walked away as tears blurred my vision.
A woman standing outside a bar | Source: Midjourney
As I was about to head back home, I saw the same white SUV outside the bar. The woman from before rolled down her window when she saw me.
“Did you see it?” she asked softly.
I nodded, unable to speak.
She sighed. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. My boyfriend is one of his friends. When I heard what they were doing… I couldn’t stay silent. You deserved to know.”
I wiped my eyes, trying to compose myself. “Thank you.”
An upset woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
That night, I said nothing to Kyle.
I sat through dinner, listening to his usual stories about “difficult procedures” and “promising results.”
But the next morning, I took action.
I called his office and told them he was well enough to return to work.
Then, I went to the bank and froze our joint account. With the remaining money, I paid off our mortgage and opened a new account in my name.
A woman walking on a street | Source: Pexels
When I was done, I sent Kyle a text.
It read, Kyle, treat your vanity and your cruelty — that’s your real illness. Don’t bother coming home.
Then, I packed my things, changed the front door lock, and took the boys with me to my parents’ place. I didn’t want to see Kyle’s face again.
He tried calling me for weeks, but I didn’t talk to him. Instead, I filed for divorce, and now I’m waiting for it to be processed so I can get rid of the man who betrayed me in a way that I could’ve never imagined.
A young woman | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: They say secrets can destroy a marriage. When I discovered my husband had secretly bought a second house, I braced myself for the worst. But nothing could prepare me for what I found when I drove there. I ended up crying at the sight, and there was nothing that could console me.
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.
My Partner Wants Half the Rent from My Dad’s Gifted House!
When my boyfriend moved in, everything felt great, until he found out I owned the house. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but his reaction led to a fight we didn’t expect.
I was eighteen when my dad gave me the keys to my own house. It was an old two-story building that had been in our family for years. This gift meant a lot to me. We weren’t wealthy, not at all.
Dad bought the house for a great price from his grandmother’s cousin, and I knew how lucky I was. Every time I walked through the front door, I felt thankful
The house had its quirks. Each floor was like its own apartment, with separate entrances, kitchens, and bathrooms. I lived upstairs and rented the downstairs to a nice woman named Maggie.
She paid $500 a month—less than most places, but I wasn’t in it for the money. The rent just covered basic costs. I handled everything myself, which gave me a little independence.
Three months ago, my boyfriend, Jason, moved in with me. We’d been together for six months, and it made sense. His lease was ending, and my place had the space. Plus, it felt good to be building a life together.
He was easygoing about most things, and we split groceries evenly, which worked for both of us. We never really talked about finances beyond daily expenses.
He didn’t ask about rent, and I didn’t mention that I owned the house. It wasn’t that I was hiding it; it just didn’t seem important.
One night, while we were watching TV, a news story came on about rising rent prices. Jason groaned and said, “Man, landlords are the worst. They only care about money. It’s like they don’t think about people who can’t afford a place to live.”
I stayed quiet, sipping my tea, unsure of what to say. I didn’t know how to explain that I was technically a landlord. But I wasn’t like the ones he was talking about. I charged fair rent and didn’t try to take advantage of my tenant.
Jason continued, shaking his head. “It’s just wrong, you know? People shouldn’t profit from something as basic as housing.”
I nodded, trying to change the subject as soon as I could. We spent the rest of the night like usual, but his words stuck with me. What would he think if he knew I was renting out part of the house? I didn’t want to make it awkward, so I kept it to myself.
A few days later, I was cleaning the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. I wiped my hands on a towel and opened it to see Maggie looking worried.
“Hey, Maggie, everything okay?” I asked.
She frowned. “My freezer stopped working. I tried everything, but it’s just dead.”
“Oh no,” I said, stepping outside. “Let me take a look.”
I followed her downstairs to her apartment. Sure enough, the freezer was warm, and nothing seemed to be working. I sighed, knowing it was probably time to replace it.
“I’ll pay for a new one,” I said. “Just send me the receipt, and I’ll reimburse you.”
Maggie smiled, relieved. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’ll go shopping for one tomorrow.”
“No problem,” I replied. “I’ll make sure you get the money back quickly.”
As I headed back upstairs, I realized Jason had probably heard the whole conversation. He was sitting on the couch when I walked in, looking a bit confused.
“Everything okay with Maggie?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said casually, “her freezer broke, but I told her I’d cover it.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “You’re paying for her freezer? Why would you do that?”
I paused, unsure of how to answer. “Well, the freezer was here when she moved in, so it’s kind of my responsibility.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand. Why is that your responsibility?”
I could feel the tension rising. “Because… it’s my house. I rent it to her.”
Jason stared at me, his expression changing as he processed what I just said.
“You own this place?” His voice was sharper, more surprised than I expected.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I thought you knew.”
“No, I didn’t know,” he replied, his tone turning colder. “You never told me.”
“Well, it never came up,” I explained. “It’s not like I was trying to hide it.”
Jason shook his head, standing up. “I just… I can’t believe this.”
He walked over to the window, looking out as if trying to make sense of everything.
I stayed quiet, not sure what to say next.
The days after Jason found out I owned the house were tense. It wasn’t like before, where we’d laugh together while cooking or enjoy lazy evenings watching TV. He was distant and quieter, and something felt off. I didn’t want to push him, so I gave him space, hoping things would return to normal. But that didn’t happen.
One evening, I was cleaning up the kitchen when Jason walked in. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching me.
“Still can’t believe you never told me,” he muttered, almost to himself.
I sighed, putting down the dish towel. “Jason, I wasn’t hiding it. It just didn’t seem important. You never asked.”
“Important?” He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “You’re a landlord. That’s pretty important. Don’t you think I had a right to know?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off.
“I thought we were on the same page. I thought we saw the world the same way, but now… now I don’t know. Landlords just… they take advantage of people.” His voice was tight, and he wouldn’t look at me.
“I’m not like that!” I said, stepping closer. “Maggie’s rent is fair, and I fix anything that breaks. I’m not some greedy landlord you see on TV.”
He shook his head. “But you’re still making money off someone else’s need for a home.”
I felt anger rising in my chest. “I don’t think you understand what I do. I’m not hurting anyone. I charge Maggie way less than the market rate. I take care of the place. I’m not some big landlord trying to exploit people.”
“But you still own it. And you still make money off her.”
“Yeah, to keep the house from falling apart! I’m not getting rich from this, Jason. You know that.”
He shook his head, standing up from the couch. “It’s all the same. It’s about power. You have something she needs, and you make her pay for it.”
The next morning, things came to a head. I was on the phone with Maggie, confirming she’d bought the new freezer and that I’d reimburse her. Jason walked in as I was finishing the call.
“So, you’re paying for that?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his voice.
“Yes,” I replied, keeping my tone steady. “The freezer was part of the apartment when she moved in. It’s my responsibility.”
He stared at me, frustration bubbling over. “Unbelievable.”
“Jason, I don’t know what you want from me,” I said, trying to stay calm. “What do you expect me to do?”
He folded his arms, his face hard. “I want you to stop being part of the problem. Either stop charging rent or give me half of what you’re making. If you’re gonna be a landlord, at least share the profits.”
I stared at him, stunned. “Share the profits? Jason, I’m not running a business here. The rent barely covers costs.”
“I don’t care,” he snapped. “You’re either with me, or you’re not. If you’re gonna keep profiting off people like that, then I deserve my share, too.”
Something in me broke then. “I’m not giving you half of anything. I’ve worked hard to keep this house running. If you think I’m going to start handing over money just because you don’t like how I manage it, then you’re out of your mind.”
Before I could respond, he grabbed the keys from the coffee table and threw them across the room. They hit the wall with a sharp clatter, and the next thing I knew, he swung his fist, aiming for the wall. The impact wasn’t strong enough to punch through, but it echoed in the room, sending a tremor through me.
“Fine!” he shouted, stepping back. His face was red, and he was breathing heavily. “I’m done. I’m not staying here, not with you.”
My hand shook as I reached for my phone. “Jason, stop,” I said, my voice trembling. “Just calm down.”
But he was already moving toward the door. I quickly typed a text to my dad: Please come now.
Jason didn’t turn around as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The house felt silent, suddenly too big and too empty. I stood there, still shaking, listening to the sound of his footsteps disappearing down the driveway.
Within minutes, I heard my dad’s car pulling up. He didn’t ask questions when he saw me on the porch, arms wrapped around myself. He just pulled me into a hug, holding me tight as I tried to catch my breath.
“He’s gone,” I whispered, still stunned by how quickly it had all fallen apart.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of quiet knocking on my door. I still felt numb from the night before, Jason’s angry words echoing in my mind. I dragged myself to the door and opened it to see Maggie standing there with a small basket of freshly baked muffins.
“Hey, I heard about what happened,” she said softly. “I’m really sorry.”
I managed a weak smile, surprised she knew so quickly. “Thanks, Maggie. I’m okay.”
She handed me the basket. “I just wanted to bring these up. It’s nothing special, but I thought you could use something sweet.”
I took the basket, feeling warmth I hadn’t felt since Jason left. “You didn’t have to do that.
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