“I’m fine, thanks,” I smiled, totally mesmerized by my son’s choice. “You look wonderful, Layla!”
At that moment, I had no clue how this woman would soon come into our lives and pull my son away from me. She seemed so nice; I never would have guessed just how cunning she really was.
Toby and Layla tied the knot just six months after our first meeting. I was so happy for my son as he started a new chapter of his life, and my heart was full of good wishes for him. I remember how I couldn’t stop weeping when my boy said his vows like a grown-up man.
Not long after the wedding, Toby and Layla invited me over to their place for lunch. I thought it would be a nice bonding session with my daughter-in-law since it was just the three of us, but it was anything but that.
Toby had asked me to be there at 2 p.m., but I arrived about 10 minutes late, and Layla took that as an opportunity to create a scene.
“Why are you so late, Jennifer?” she asked as soon as I stepped inside the house. I couldn’t see Toby anywhere near the entrance. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long!”
“I… I got late because of the traffic,” I stammered, taken aback by the unexpected confrontation.
“I don’t like hosting people who can’t value my time,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry for that, Layla,” I apologized. “But it was just 10 minutes.”
“I don’t care if it was 10 minutes or 10 hours,” she shot me an angry look. “You need to be on time when you come to my place, underst—”
“Oh, Mom! You’re here!” Toby interrupted. “How are you, my lovely lady?”
“I’m fine, Toby,” I said, hugging him, still reeling from Layla’s behavior. “How are you, my love? Looks like you haven’t been eating well.”
“Nah, I’m good, Mom,” he smiled. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Your wife was say—”
“Nothing, babe,” Layla cut me off. “I was just telling her how beautiful she looks today.”
“Yeah?” Toby’s gaze shifted from his wife to me. “My mom always looks the best!”
At that point, I was stunned by Layla’s behavior. Why was she being so sweet to me in front of Toby? And why didn’t she let me tell him what she had said earlier?
I spent the rest of the afternoon at their house, observing how Layla effortlessly switched on her sweet personality whenever Toby was around. But when he wasn’t looking, she’d throw mean remarks to make me feel unwelcome.
That day marked the beginning of my strained relationship with my daughter-in-law.
Then, one day, I noticed how Toby began taking her side whenever Layla and I argued in front of him.
“Layla’s right, Mom,” Toby said one day when we were at a restaurant deciding what to order for dinner. “We don’t need a large bowl of salad. It’s just the three of us. We’ll manage with a small bowl.”
“See, I’ve been telling your mother to order the small bowl, but she never listens to me,” Layla chuckled. “I don’t know why she never trusts me.”
She played the victim in front of him, and my poor boy always fell for it. I don’t blame him; he had seen his father always side with me. But I wasn’t like Layla. I wasn’t pretending to be a good daughter-in-law in front of my husband.
Layla’s behavior toward me didn’t change until the day she called me. I was genuinely surprised to see her name on my phone screen.
“Hi, Jen!” she chirped through the phone.
Jen? I thought. That’s weird.
“Hi, Layla,” I played along, trying to sound as sweet as possible. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” she said. “I was wondering if I could borrow your car tomorrow. Would that be okay with you?”
“My car?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Actually, I was supposed to visit my friend today. She lives a few hours away, but I couldn’t go because my car broke down. The mechanic says it’ll take a few days before he can fix it.”
“Oh, my! Sounds like there’s a major problem,” I said, genuinely concerned.
“I was so upset, but then Toby suggested I ask if you could lend me your car for a day,” she continued. “I’ll be back in a week.”
A week? I thought. That’s a lot.
But I felt bad for her. She sounded desperate, and she mentioned Toby had suggested it, so I didn’t want to let her down. I also saw it as a chance to mend our relationship.
“Sure, I don’t mind,” I said. “You can come over today if you want.”
And that was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
A week later, Layla and Toby returned my car, but I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw it. It was covered in scratches, dents, and dust. And the inside? It smelled like rotten onions!
“What have you done to my car?” I spat out. “What happened?”
“Excuse me?” she said, squinting her eyes as if I’d said something outrageous. “What did I do to your car? It was like this when I picked it up the other day.”
“Stop it, Layla!” I yelled at her. “Stop lying.”
“You think I’m lying?” she snapped, turning to Toby. “Babe, look at her! She’s accusing me of lying! How dare she?”
“Mom, Layla’s right,” Toby said. “She told me your car was like this when she picked it up the other day. She’s not lying.”
“Toby? Are you serious?” I stared at him in shock, realizing there was no point in arguing with them.
I had no proof, and neither did she. But Toby sided with her because he was so blindly in love with her.
I realized that arguing might even push my son away, so I decided to teach Layla a lesson instead. I spent the night researching online and stumbled across an incredible idea. A quick call to the nearby pet shop, and my plan was in motion.
The next night, I drove over to their place armed with animal attractant sprays. I carefully sprayed them all over their backyard, driveway, and front porch, making sure to stay out of sight.
With the lights off, I knew they were asleep. I quickly executed my plan and quietly drove away, feeling a mix of nerves and satisfaction.
I was certain this would teach Layla not to mess with me again.
The next morning, I woke up to my phone ringing. It was Toby.
“Mom, I need help!” he cried over the phone.
“What happened, honey?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “Are you okay?”
“We just woke up, and it’s awful here! The yard stinks, and wild animals have turned our place into a toilet! The whole house smells horrible, and we don’t know what to do!”
I secretly smirked, listening to him rant about the mess. The irony was delicious.
“Oh, my!” I pretended to be surprised. “That sounds horrible. I guess that’s what happens when you ruin someone else’s property.”
I don’t know if Toby caught my meaning, but I’m sure his clever wife knew those animals didn’t show up by chance. She had to know it was me, her oh-so-nice mother-in-law, who never fought back before.
Since that day, Layla hasn’t dared to mess with me. We met at a dinner once, and she didn’t try to be rude or complain about me wasting her time. Meanwhile, Toby started calling me regularly, checking in to see how I was doing.
I guess my dear husband Nathan was right after all. My son did need me to pull him out of the trance Layla had drawn him into. He needed me to stand up for myself and set a boundary his wife wouldn’t dare cross again.
What would you have done if you were in my place?
My Friend Didn’t Believe Her Husband Was Cheating, So I Set Up a Scene to Prove It
When her best friend refused to believe her husband was cheating on her, Nancy was determined to open her eyes. She set up a foolproof trap, but as the plan unfolded, Nancy was unprepared for the explosive consequences.
Alright everyone, Nancy here. Ever had that friend, the one who wears rose-colored glasses thicker than a disco ball? Yeah, that’s Melissa. Now, Melissa’s husband, Victor, is the epitome of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Picture perfect husband on the outside, but on the inside… well, let’s just say his loyalty roams free like a stray dog…
For the past year, whispers about Victor’s little “extracurricular activities” had been swirling around town like tumbleweeds in a dusty desert.
Pub crawls with “mystery women,” extra-long “work nights” that ended way too close to sunrise at that sketchy karaoke bar on Elm Street — the signs were all there, neon bright.
But Melissa? Bless her heart, she clung to the fantasy of their “perfect” marriage like a life raft in a hurricane.
At first, it was kind of cute. You know, the “ignorance is bliss” kind of thing.
But seeing Melissa walk on eggshells around Victor, making excuses for his shady behavior, it started to grate on me. The girl was practically begging to get her heart broken!
Enough was enough.
One gloomy Tuesday evening, armed with a bottle of the strongest wine I could find and a heart full of frustration, I marched over to Melissa’s house. You know that feeling when you just gotta lay it all out, consequences be damned? That’s exactly where I was at.
Melissa opened the door with a bright smile that faltered the second she saw my stormy expression.
“Hey Nancy,” she said. “What brings you here?”
I pushed past her, the wine bottle threatening to topple over in my trembling hand. “We need to talk,” I declared.
Melissa’s smile vanished completely, replaced by a flicker of worry. We settled down on the couch, and I launched into my spiel, laying out all the rumors, the suspicious disappearances, the way Victor’s eyes lingered a little too long on other women.
But Melissa wouldn’t budge and tears welled up in her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Nancy,” she sniffled. “Victor would never do anything like that. He loves me.”
My frustration bubbled over. “Loves you?!” I practically shouted. “Love doesn’t involve sneaking around and hiding phone calls! Melissa, wake up and smell the coffee — or maybe the cheap perfume clinging to his clothes!”
That was the final straw. Melissa’s face hardened, her eyes blazing with hurt and anger. “This is my marriage, Nancy,” she snapped. “If you can’t be supportive, then maybe you should leave.”
My heart sank.
I hadn’t meant to drive a wedge between them, just to open her eyes. But clearly, logic wasn’t winning this battle.
Defeated, I grabbed my abandoned wine and shuffled out, the slam of the door echoing my failure in my ears.
Sitting alone in my apartment, I knew I couldn’t just leave Melissa like that, living in a fool’s paradise. But how could I break through the wall she’d built around her perfect little world?
An idea, crazy and impulsive, sparked in my mind. Maybe I could give Melissa the undeniable PROOF she needed.
With a deep breath, I grabbed my phone and dialed Victor’s number. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before a smooth, familiar voice answered.
“Hey Nancy, this is unexpected,” Victor said, a hint of surprise lacing his tone.
Ugh, the nerve of this guy! I steeled myself, channeling my anger into a voice dripping with feigned flirtation.
“Hey Victor,” I purred, “Guess what? I got promoted! To celebrate, I’m thinking of having a little ‘get-together’ with a special friend this weekend. And guess who immediately popped into my head?”
Silence. I held my breath, willing him to take the bait.
“Well?” I pressed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are you coming…?”
Then, a low chuckle traveled through the phone. My stomach clenched. “Well, Nancy,” Victor said, his voice smooth as silk, “I’m always up for a good time. Tell me more…”
The sound of Victor’s chuckle sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of disgust and a surge of morbid satisfaction. He’d taken the bait. Now came the tricky part.
“Actually,” I interjected, trying to sound casual, “I was thinking of something a little more… discreet.” I could practically hear the question marks forming in his head. Perfect.
“Discreet, huh?” he repeated, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. “What did you have in mind?”
I took a deep breath. This was it. “There’s this new upscale pub downtown,” I said, dropping the name of the very same pub he frequented with his “other women.” “Heard it’s got a private room, perfect for a little… celebration.”
A beat of silence followed. Then, a low whistle came through the phone. “Now that’s interesting, Nancy,” Victor said, his voice a touch huskier. “Are you sure about this? You know, Melissa…”
“Don’t worry about Melissa,” I cut him off. “She won’t know a thing… I promise. It’ll be just you and me.”
There was another pause, longer this time. My heart pounded in my chest. Was he suspicious? Had I blown the whole operation?
Finally, Victor spoke. “Alright, Nancy,” he purred. “You’ve convinced me. Just tell me what time, and I’ll be there… in your arms, darling.”
Relief washed over me so strong I almost dropped the phone. He’d agreed! My gamble had paid off. “Great!” I said, forcing a light tone. “I’ll text you the details later. Just make sure you come alone, okay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Victor chuckled. “See you then, babe.”
With that, the line went dead. I stared at the phone, elation and dread bubbling in my stomach. I’d set the trap, but now what? Would Melissa actually believe me? More importantly, would she be strong enough to face the truth, however ugly it might be?
With a mischievous grin, I fired off a text to Melissa, apologizing profusely for my outburst the other night.
“Ugh, Nancy,” she replied, her message dripping with annoyance. “Can we talk about this later? I’m swamped right now.”
I wasn’t about to give up. I bombarded her with messages, each one brimming with fake remorse and a desperate plea to meet for drinks.
“Come on, Mel,” I texted, “Let’s just grab a quick drink and clear the air. My treat! This Saturday. Please.”
Finally, on Friday afternoon, I received a one-word reply: “Fine.”
Victory! Saturday arrived. Today was the day I’d expose Victor for the lying, cheating weasel he was. I spent hours primping, slipping into the most elegant dress I could find.
Walking into the upscale pub, I felt completely out of my comfort zone.
As promised, Victor was already there, perched at the bar, nursing a drink on the rocks. His eyes lit up when he saw me.
“Nancy,” he exclaimed, a smooth smile gracing his lips, “you look absolutely… like a goddess.”
I plastered on a sheepish grin. “Thanks, Victor,” I purred, forcing down the wave of disgust rising in my throat. “Mind if I join you?”
He gestured to the empty stool beside him. We settled in, making awkward small talk as the bartender mixed me a drink. Victor kept stealing glances at me, a flicker of suspicion replacing his initial amusement.
“So,” he finally started, his voice laced with curiosity, “what’s with the sudden change of heart, Nancy? You’re usually not one for crowded bars or… well… me.”
Busted. I cleared my throat, mentally scrambling for a convincing story.
“Honestly, Victor,” I confessed, batting my eyelashes for effect, “I’ve been kicking myself ever since the dinner the other night. You were so kind, so attentive… it awakened something in me.”
Victor’s eyebrows shot up. This was it. Time to reel him in.
I leaned closer, “Maybe,” I said, my cheeks burning with shame, “I was a little afraid to act on my feelings before. But hey, life’s too short, right?”
A slow smile spread across Victor’s face. He scanned me from head to toe, his gaze lingering a little too long on certain curves. I felt a wave of nausea roll through me, but I pushed it down. This was all for Melissa.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my purse. A text from Melissa. My heart raced. “On my way,” it read
I quickly typed out a one-line reply: “Come straight to the bar.” Sliding my phone back into my purse, I took a deep breath.
Just then, the pub door swung open and Melissa walked in.
My cue. I threw my arms around Victor’s neck and leaned in for a kiss. “Kiss me, you fool!” I whispered dramatically.
Victor, clearly flustered, hesitated for a split second before returning the kiss. It was a clumsy, awkward peck, but it was enough. I pulled back, a triumphant smile lighting up my face..
“See, Melissa?” I declared, turning towards my friend.
“This is what I’ve been talking about! Your husband’s a complete jerk!”
The smile vanished from Melissa’s face, replaced by a mask of shock and sheer disbelief. Victor, however, sputtered to his feet, his face flushed crimson.
“Melissa, honey,” he stammered, “it’s not what it looks like! She’s the one who—”
“Don’t even try to lie your way out of this, Victor!” I cut him off, relishing the momentary power shift. “The jig is up!”
But before I could launch into a full-blown exposé, Victor whipped out his phone. A sickening feeling of dread crept into my stomach. He pressed a button, and a voice filled the air — my voice. Crystal clear, unmistakable.
“Hey Victor,” the voice purred, “guess what? I got promoted! To celebrate, I’m thinking of having a little ‘get-together’ with a special friend this weekend. And guess who immediately popped into my head?”
My blood ran cold.
The voice on the phone was mine, the exact words I’d used to set the trap. Victor had recorded our conversation. I was caught, my elaborate plan backfiring spectacularly.
“See, honey,” Victor finished, his voice dripping with false sincerity, “I told you she was the one coming on to me. I’m innocent. I just came here for a drink. It was all her.”
Melissa’s face contorted with anger and confusion. She looked between me and Victor, her gaze lingering on the phone in his hand. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating.
“NANCY,” Melissa yelled, “is this… TRUE??”
My throat constricted. I wanted to scream, to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.
The weight of my actions pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. Shame burned in my cheeks, hotter than any cocktail I’d ever tasted.
“I…” I stammered. “I just… I wanted you to see—”
“See what?” Melissa cut me off, her voice rising.
“See you ruin my marriage with your lies and accusations? You almost made me throw away the best thing that ever happened to me, all on the basis of some twisted suspicion!”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “You call yourself my best friend? This is how you treat me?”
I opened my mouth to apologize, but the words died in my throat. Melissa was right. My misguided attempt at helping had backfired spectacularly. I’d hurt her, betrayed her trust, and all for nothing.
Victor, sensing his advantage, placed a comforting hand on Melissa’s shoulder. “There, there, honey,” he murmured. “Don’t listen to her. She’s clearly jealous of what we have.”
Melissa shot him a watery smile, leaning into his touch. My stomach churned. Had I been so blinded by my suspicion that I’d missed the genuine affection between them? Or was Victor that good of an actor?
“Get out of my life, Nancy,” Melissa yelled. “And don’t you ever contact me again.”
There was no denying the finality in her voice. Tears streamed down my face as I watched Melissa stumble out of the bar with Victor in tow.
A week had passed since that fateful night. The silence from Melissa was deafening. My calls went unanswered, my texts left on read. Social media confirmed my worst fear — I was blocked.
Sitting alone in my apartment, replaying the scene over and over in my head, I felt a wave of self-loathing wash over me. I’d messed up, royally.
So, am I wrong? The answer, unfortunately, is clear. Yes. Yes, I was wrong. Dead wrong.
My intentions, while misguided, may have stemmed from a place of care. But the way I went about it? A complete disaster.
You know, I get it. Looking back, my whole plan to expose Victor was a dumpster fire wrapped in a trainwreck. But honestly, do you think I was the villain here? Sure, I messed up, big time. But Melissa deserved to know the truth, right? Or was I way out of line for meddling? Hit me with your thoughts.
Leave a Reply