I thought my future mother-in-law was loving and supportive of my union with her son. But she detested me and had been pretending from the day we met! My tale is of deceit, lies, and ultimately revenge! With my new husband’s support, we put her in her place!
I, Joana, 34, was looking forward to finally marrying the man of my dreams, my fiancé Leo, 35. But I didn’t expect that his family would try to come between us.
Here’s some background before I get into how we got here. Leo and I have been together for two blissful years. We are finally getting ready for our big day, which is coming soon. But what I didn’t expect was to overhear my fiancé’s family making ulterior plans against me.
A woman lying in bed reading a book | Source: Pexels
So this is what happened. I woke up the other day feeling unwell and decided to call in sick to work. The plan was for me to just stay home nursing myself back to health. Since Leo had already left the apartment for his job, I decided to text him, saying:
“Hi babe, I hope you’re having a good morning. I woke up feeling under the weather and decided to stay home for the day. I already called in sick, so please bring me lunch if you can. I love you!”
I remember the day clearly. Leo surprised me by arriving at our apartment during his lunch break! I thought he’d read my message and had actually brought me some food.
A woman texting on her phone while lying in bed | Source: Pexels
In my excitement, I was about to go out of the bedroom to hug him and thank him for coming to check on me when I heard other voices.
My fiancé had come over with my future mother-in-law (MIL) and sister-in-law (SIL). From the conversation they were having, it seemed they’d come over to pick something up from our apartment during Leo’s lunch break. He was helping his sister move.
Yet, Leo didn’t look for me when he arrived, which made me realize he hadn’t read my text. So he didn’t know I was home. “You guys wait here, let me go and throw this trash out, and then we can go,” he said as he emptied the bin and went outside.
A man outside holding a trash bag | Source: Freepik
The moment he went out the door, his mother and sister began trashing me! They were mocking everything from my kitchen decor to my personal style! “Who chooses such colors for a kitchen,” my future SIL laughed as I listened.
“Never mind the kitchen, what about the way she looks?” my future MIL added laughing at me too. “She’s not a good fit for Leo,” she commented, continuing to say disgusting and quite hurtful things about me.
An older woman laughing and conversing with a younger one | Source: Freepik
Lying in bed I seethed with a mixture of shock and anger! I couldn’t believe the disdain they harbored for me. Quietly, I reached for the old dictaphone on my nightstand and pressed record because my phone was flat. Every harsh word, every cruel laugh captured, unbeknownst to them.
I was SO hurt! I didn’t know that they felt this way about me. Every time we conversed or I was around them, they were kind and supportive. They’d even offered to help with the wedding planning, for goodness sake!
A photo of an old dictaphone | Source: Pixabay
Just when I thought I’d heard enough and they couldn’t stoop any lower, it got even worse! My future MIL continued speaking ill of me, dropping a huge bombshell to her daughter about her crazy plan, saying:
“The silly girl doesn’t even suspect that she’ll NEVER become a mother to our future grandkid because I’m going to use Leo’s ex as an egg donor.”
My jaw DROPPED! The ex she mentioned was Eve, the blonde model-looking woman that Leo dated for four years before me. He’d broken up with her after proposing when he found out she’d been cheating on him.
The infidelity happened with different men and throughout their relationship!
That was the person whose grandchildren Leo’s mother wanted!? The reason why they didn’t want my grandchildren was because my genes were “tainted” by my “fat and diabetic parents,” and weren’t good enough.
A happy middle-aged couple embracing while holding snow shovels | Source: Pexels
I mean, I understood that I was nothing like Eve. I was short, and a bit chubby, and I spoke my mind when forced to, but I didn’t deserve to be trashed like that!
That evening when Leo and I were alone, I played back the recording. The hurt was clear in his eyes as he listened to his mother’s unfiltered opinions.
At first, he tried to downplay it, suggesting they were venting. But the reality of their betrayal sank in as he continued to listen.
A woman looks at the camera while her man lies back contemplating something | Source: Pexels
He confronted his mother the next day, demanding she apologize, but she refused. The woman was adamant that there was nothing wrong with her behavior! Leo, torn between his family and me, devised a plan.
“Let’s show everyone her true colors,” he said, his resolve hardening. My future MIL didn’t even suspect she would regret what she said on our wedding day as my fiancé and I made our plans.\
A happy couple sitting in their bedroom | Source: Pexels
The wedding day arrived with tension simmering beneath the surface of every smile and congratulations. Leo’s mother delivered her toast, her voice dripping with fake affection and well-wishes.
As the applause died down, Leo stood and nodded at me. My heart pounding, I hit play on the speaker system. The venomous words filled the room, each syllable a sharp contrast to the loving speech she had just given.
We had decided that after his mother’s “sweet” toast at our wedding, we would play the recording of her talking to my SIL in our apartment for all to hear.
A woman reacting in shock | Source: Freepik
The room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop as the reality of her duplicity settled over the crowd. Leo’s mother, her face a mask of horror and embarrassment, stood frozen in her seat.
Then, as the recording ended, she walked out, her exit a walk of shame under the stunned gazes of family and friends. My SIL also darted her eyes around at everyone before following suit!
Leo, a supportive and loving new husband, squeezed my hand, his eyes apologetic, and yet fierce. “I’m sorry you had to endure that,” he whispered. “But I hope now we can start fresh, without secrets or lies.”
A couple dancing on their wedding day | Source: Pexels
As the wedding continued, the atmosphere lightened. People approached us, offering words of support and expressing their shock. Leo and I realized that this ordeal, as painful as it was, might have purged the venom that threatened our future together.
Looking back, I often wonder if happiness in marriage can truly coexist with familial strife. That day, Leo chose us over the blind allegiance to his family’s pretenses.
In doing so, he gave our love a fighting chance.
A couple embracing on their wedding day | Source: Pexels
Despite the drama, or perhaps because of it, we understood that together, we could face anything. As we danced under the soft glow of the reception lights, I felt a sense of triumph, not from revenge, but from the affirmation of our unity in the face of adversity.
A happy couple embracing at the beach | Source: Pexels
While Joana’s tale ended on a good note with her new husband choosing her over his family, things were not the same for Jane. In the following story, Jane discovers her fiancé’s true nature and with the support of their friends, she leaves him choosing to know her true worth.
I Discovered My Husband on Tinder and Decided to Catfish Him with a Fake Profile — He Believes He’s Being Unfaithful, but It’s All Part of My Scheme for Payback
Finally, his profile came up, with him smiling that same smile that had once made me fall in love. I took a deep breath as I swiped right. Fortunately, we matched right away. GAME ON!
The first step was to build a connection. I knew everything about Dexter: his favorite movie (“The Godfather”), his favorite whiskey (Glenfiddich), and even his secret love for 80s pop music. Using Leah’s profile, I mirrored his interests and crafted a persona that would be irresistible to him.
I made sure to mention my love for “The Godfather” in my bio and put up a picture of Leah holding a glass of Glenfiddich. I knew exactly how to pull him in. We started chatting, and he took the bait. Our conversations were filled with flirty banter and deep talks about life.
“Wow, you love ‘The Godfather’ too?” Dexter messaged. “It’s my all-time favorite movie.”
I replied as Leah, “Yes, it’s a masterpiece! And Glenfiddich is my go-to drink while watching it. What about you?”
“Same here,” he wrote back. “Nothing beats a good movie and a great whiskey.”
He told Leah about his dreams and fears, things he hadn’t shared with me in years. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a rut,” he confided one evening. “I have all these plans, but I can’t seem to make them happen.”
“I’m here for you,” I typed. “You can talk to me about anything.”
Every evening, I’d sit on the couch next to him, pretending to scroll through my phone while he texted Leah. It was surreal, living under the same roof and harboring so many secrets. I’d glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he smiled at his phone, completely engrossed in his messages to Leah.
After a few weeks of daily chats, I knew he was hooked. It was time for phase two: gaining his trust. I started hinting at financial troubles, weaving tales of sudden car repairs and unexpected medical bills.
Over the next few days, I continued to spin stories of desperation to Dexter through Leah’s account. He was eager to help, wanting to be her knight in shining armor. It didn’t take long for him to start transferring money to the account I had set up.
“I don’t ever want you to feel alone, Leah. You can always count on me,” he texted Leah one day while sitting right next to me. “Remember, I’m only a message away.”
This Dexter that I had come to know as Leah was someone I didn’t recognize as Phoebe. It pained me to continue the game, but I knew I had to keep going.
Each sob story I fed him made him more determined to save this imaginary woman. Living this double life was exhausting but thrilling. Every day, I played the devoted wife, making breakfast for our kids and chatting with Dexter about his day at work.
Every night, I transformed into Leah, the damsel in distress who had him wrapped around her finger. “Dex, I don’t know how to thank you enough,” I texted. “You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
“I just want to see you happy,” he responded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I watched as he fell deeper into the trap, blinded by his infatuation and guilt. He was constantly checking his phone, eager for Leah’s messages, completely unaware of the truth that lay just beneath the surface.
The third step was all about increasing the stakes. With his trust secured, I began to ask for larger amounts, weaving elaborate stories that played on his desire to be a hero. One evening, I texted him as Leah, “Dex, I don’t know what to do. My car broke down, and the repair costs are way more than I can afford. I’m so scared I’ll lose my job if I can’t get to work.”
He replied almost instantly, “Don’t worry, Leah. I’ll take care of it. How much do you need?”
“About $1,500,” I wrote back, holding my breath.
“Consider it done,” he replied, and minutes later, the money was in my account.
Each transaction brought me closer to my goal. I asked for help with rent and then “emergency” medical procedures for a sick family member. Dexter was more than willing to help, convinced he was the hero Leah needed. What he didn’t realize was that he was funding my escape.
While he was distracted by his affair, I meticulously planned my departure. I found a new place to live, made arrangements for the kids, and discreetly packed our essentials.
Every day, I gathered a little more evidence of his infidelity and financial transactions, making sure I had enough to protect myself if he tried to contest anything later. I took screenshots of our chats, saved copies of bank statements, and even recorded a few of our conversations where he talked about his “true feelings” for Leah.
“Leah, I feel like I can be honest with you,” he wrote one evening. “I’ve never felt this way before. You understand me in a way no one else does.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I replied, heart pounding. “I care about you a lot, Dex.”
“I care about you too,” he responded. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we could be together for real. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might be falling for you.”
Reading his confession, I felt a mix of anger and satisfaction. I saved the conversation, knowing it would be crucial later. He had no idea that his heartfelt messages were sealing his fate.
The final step was to reveal my plan. I knew the perfect way to do it. I sent him a final message from the fake account, arranging a meet-up at a fancy restaurant.
“Dex, I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I think it’s time we finally meet in person. How about dinner at The Grand at 8 p.m. this Friday?”
He replied within seconds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Leah. I’ll be there.”
On the day of the meeting, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it.
I dressed in my best outfit, a simple yet elegant black dress that Dexter always said was his favorite. I wanted to look my best when I confronted him. I arrived at The Grand a bit early and took a seat at a quiet corner table where I could see the entrance clearly.
I ordered a glass of wine and sat there, watching the clock tick closer to 8 p.m. Finally, Dexter walked in, looking around eagerly. He was wearing the suit I had bought him for our anniversary a few years ago. He looked nervous but excited, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
As he scanned the room, I stood up and walked over to him. “Dexter,” I said, my voice steady.
He turned, his eyes widening in shock. “Phoebe? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, holding up a folder. “But I think you know.”
He looked at the folder, confusion and panic mixing on his face. “What’s that?”
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested, guiding him to the table I had been sitting at. He followed, still looking dazed.
Once we were seated, I placed the folder in front of him. “Open it,” I said.
With shaking hands, he opened the folder and began to go through the contents. Inside were screenshots of our conversations, evidence of his infidelity, and a detailed list of all the money he had sent to Leah’s account—my account. His face turned pale as he realized he had been played.
“I knew all along,” I said calmly, watching him. “This was my way of getting back at you and securing my freedom. The money you sent to your ‘lover’ will help me and the kids start a new life away from you.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and anger. “Phoebe, I can explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I cut him off. “You betrayed me, Dexter. You made vows to me, and you broke them. Now, you’re going to face the consequences.”
He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing the evidence was undeniable. There was nothing he could say to make it better or take back what he had done.
I stood up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m leaving, Dexter. Don’t try to find us, and don’t think you can contest anything. I have all the evidence I need to make sure you don’t.”
He sat there, stunned, as I walked out of the restaurant. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and freedom as I left him behind. That evening, I moved into our new home, taking the kids with me. The money I had accumulated ensured we were comfortable and had a fresh start.
The new place was cozy, nothing extravagant but perfect for us. The kids were a bit confused at first, but I explained it was a new adventure. They were excited about their new rooms, and I felt a sense of relief knowing we were safe and away from Dexter’s deceit.
Over the next few days, I settled into our new life. I enrolled the kids in a new school and started looking for a job. With the money Dexter had unwittingly provided, we were stable for the time being. I even found myself smiling more, feeling lighter than I had in years.
One evening, as I was tucking the kids into bed, my daughter looked up at me and said, “Mom, are we going to be okay?”
I smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re going to be just fine.”
As I sat in the living room later, sipping a cup of tea, I reflected on everything that had happened. Revenge is best served cold, and Dexter learned that the hard way. He thought he was cheating, but he was just falling into my trap. Now, I am free, financially secure, and ready to move forward without him.
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