My Husband Sent Me to Care for His Sick Mother While He Went to a Resort with His Mistress, Unaware It Was All Part of My Plan

It was late, the house quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. I sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through Rick’s phone.

My heart pounded in my chest as if warning me to stop, but I couldn’t. Something had felt off for months. I stressed over late nights at work, hushed phone calls, the way he’d turned his back to me while texting.

And there it was.

“I’ll send my wife and the kids to take care of Mom. She loves playing nurse. Meanwhile, we’ll hit the spa. I booked us a room at The Ivy—you’ll love it.”

The words blurred on the screen as tears filled my eyes. I gripped the phone tighter, rereading the text to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. My husband of 12 years wasn’t just cheating. He was planning to ship me off to care for his mother while he sipped champagne with another woman.

I scrolled further, my breath shallow. There were pictures of her, of them. Messages filled with inside jokes, pet names, and plans. I wanted to throw the phone across the room. I wanted to wake him up and scream in his face.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I set the phone down on the table and stared at it, my chest heaving. Confronting him now wouldn’t fix this. It wouldn’t undo the betrayal or the humiliation. I needed a plan.

The next morning, Rick came into the kitchen, all smiles. He kissed my cheek. “Morning, babe. Coffee smells great.”

I stiffened but managed to smile back. “Morning.”

He sat at the table, scrolling through his own phone, oblivious to the fact that I’d read every filthy word he’d typed the night before.

“So,” he said casually, “I was thinking you could take the kids to Mom’s for a few days. You know, help her out. She’s been saying how much she misses seeing the little ones.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat but forced it down. “Sure,” I said evenly. “That sounds nice. I’ll pack up today.”

Rick got up and kissed me on the forehead. “You’re amazing. I’ll be working late tonight, by the way. Big meeting.”

“Of course,” I replied.

By the afternoon, I had the kids packed and loaded into the car. Helen, my mother-in-law, wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me when we arrived at her house.

“What’s all this?” she asked, eyeing the suitcases as I lugged them through the door.

“Rick thought it’d be nice if the kids and I spent a few days with you,” I said, setting the bags down in her living room.

She crossed her arms. “Did he now?”

The kids ran off to play while I stood awkwardly in her kitchen. Helen wasn’t the warmest woman. Our relationship had always been… strained. But I couldn’t do this without her.

“Helen,” I began, my voice shaking. “We need to talk.”

Her sharp eyes softened slightly. “What is it?”

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Rick’s texts. Without a word, I handed it to her.

“What am I looking at?” she asked, squinting at the screen.

“Rick’s texts,” I said quietly. “To his… girlfriend.”

Her face hardened as she read. “That little… How dare he?” She looked up at me, her eyes blazing. “And what’s this about sending you here so he can sneak off with her?”

“Exactly,” I said, my voice breaking. “He’s using both of us, Helen.”

She slammed the phone down on the table. “That boy has lost his mind.”

I hadn’t expected her to take my side so quickly, but her anger was palpable. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.

Helen snorted. “I do. You’re staying here, and we’re going to teach that little idiot a lesson he’ll never forget.”

I blinked. “You want to help me?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Of course I do. He’s my son, but he doesn’t get to treat you—us like this. We’re going to give him a dose of his own medicine.”

I couldn’t believe it. For the first time in years, I felt like Helen and I were on the same team.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk. “Wait until you see what I have in mind.”

Her words sent a shiver down my spine. Whatever Helen was planning, I knew one thing for sure: Rick wasn’t going to know what hit him.

As Helen picked her phone up, her eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Now, let’s see how good an actor I am,” she said, smirking at me.

I nodded, nerves twisting in my stomach. “He’ll believe it. He always falls for a crisis.”

She dialed Rick’s number, putting on the frailest voice I’d ever heard. “Rick… it’s Mom,” she said, her tone weak and halting.

I could hear his voice through the phone, sharp with concern. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

Helen clutched her chest dramatically, even though no one could see her. “I don’t know, Rick. I can’t feel my arm, and my chest feels so tight. Something’s not right.”

“What?!” Rick’s voice cracked. “Are you serious? Did you call 911?”

“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to worry anyone… She,” she glanced at me. “She did something to me…”

“Mom, hang up and call an ambulance!” Rick barked. “I’m on my way. Don’t tell—” His voice dropped to a mutter. “Don’t tell her anything.”

I struggled to keep my laugh silent.

Helen rolled her eyes at me as she croaked, “Hurry, Rick. Please.” Then she hung up, letting out a triumphant laugh.

“He’s on his way,” she said, shaking her head. “Can you believe he still thinks he’s the smart one in the family?”

It wasn’t long before the sound of screeching tires echoed through the quiet neighborhood. I glanced at Helen, who was now reclining dramatically on the couch, a blanket pulled up to her chin. I sat in the armchair, cradling a mug of tea, trying to appear calm.

The front door slammed open.

“Mom!” Rick’s voice was frantic as he rushed into the room, his face pale with fear. “Mom, are you okay?”

Helen groaned weakly, waving a limp hand in his direction. “I think… I’m dying.”

Rick dropped to his knees beside her, grabbing her hand. “Don’t worry, I’m calling the police. What did you do to her?!” He turned to me, his face red with anger.

She pulled herself up slightly, glaring at him. “She showed me…”

Rick froze. “What…?”

Helen tossed the blanket aside and sat up, her eyes blazing. “Your wife showed me everything. The texts. The affair. And worst of all, you used me—your own mother—as part of your disgusting lie. And now I’m dying. Of disappointment.”

Rick’s face turned red. He looked at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Wait, this… this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” I said calmly, taking a sip of tea. I reached for my phone and pulled up the messages. “Care to explain these?” I handed the phone to him.

Rick scanned the screen, his hands shaking. “This… it’s not what you think,” he stammered. “I was just trying to—”

“To what?” Helen cut in, her voice rising. “Humiliate your wife? Embarrass this family? Or were you just too lazy to come up with a better excuse than your mother’s health?”

Rick looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t apologize to me!” Helen snapped. “Apologize to your wife. If you’re capable of showing her even a shred of the respect she deserves.”

He turned to me, tears welling in his eyes. “I was stupid. I made a mistake. I’ll end it. I’ll do whatever you want. Please, don’t leave me. Think about the kids.”

I folded my arms. “I am thinking about the kids. And maybe they’re better off without a father who lies and cheats.”

Rick fell silent, his head hanging low.

Later that evening, I sent Rick to sleep on the pull-out couch in Helen’s spare room. Helen and I sat together in the kitchen, drinking tea.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” I said softly.

Helen raised her cup. “Well, now you’ll never have to. I’ve got your back.”

For the first time in years, I felt like I wasn’t alone.

The next day, I decided to deal with the other woman. I scrolled through my phone until I found her number. Rick had saved it under a fake name, but I’d figured it out quickly enough.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice bright.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Rick’s wife.”

There was a long pause. “Oh,” she said finally. “I didn’t know he was married.”

“Really? Because he talked about me in his texts,” I replied, my tone icy.

“I—” She hesitated. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“Well, now you do,” I said, and hung up.

Rick stayed at Helen’s house for the rest of the week, too ashamed to show his face, while the kids and I went home. I didn’t know yet what the future held, but one thing was certain: I wasn’t the same woman who had sat crying in the kitchen that night.

And thanks to Helen, I’d never let Rick or anyone else treat me like that again.

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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.