But every trip was a reminder of how connected we were and how much we valued this time together. It was a break from our everyday lives, a chance to let loose and just be, at least for some time.
“Mom, do you remember that time at the beach house when Kayla fell off the dock?” Evelyn would laugh, nudging her sister.
“Don’t remind me!” Kayla groaned, but she couldn’t help smiling. “I still can’t believe you all left me in the water like that.”
“We didn’t leave you, sweetheart. We were laughing too hard to pull you out,” I would tease, shaking my head.
These moments were precious, and I held onto them fiercely. But things started to change when Liam, my only son, got married to Beth.
Beth was sweet when they first met. Quiet, reserved, but kind-hearted. I was genuinely happy for them, and when they got married, I welcomed her into our family with open arms. Naturally, I invited her to join us on our girls’ trips. I wanted her to feel included, to be a part of our little tradition. It felt right at the time.
At first, Beth fit in well enough. She was always polite, maybe a little shy, but I thought she’d warm up eventually. She wasn’t as chatty as my girls, but she seemed to enjoy the trips. We all tried to make her feel comfortable.
“So, Beth,” Kayla asked one afternoon as we sat in a café on one of our trips. “What was it like growing up in Maine? I’ve always wanted to visit.”
Beth smiled softly, twirling the straw in her iced coffee. “It was nice. Quiet. Not much to do in my town, but the summers were beautiful.”
The conversation felt a bit forced, but we all chalked it up to Beth needing time to adjust. She’d become part of our family, and I wanted her to feel like she belonged.
But after Beth gave birth to her son, Lucas, things changed. She gained a lot of weight during pregnancy, which isn’t unusual. However, eight years later, she still hadn’t lost the baby weight.
I noticed how much it was affecting her, not just physically but in the way she moved and interacted with us. It was becoming harder to include her in our trips.
One day, we were out shopping. It was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted afternoon, just like old times. We’d hit the mall, grabbed lunch, and made our way through the stores, chatting and laughing. But Beth kept falling behind.
I glanced back and saw her sitting on a bench near the entrance of a department store. She looked exhausted, wiping the sweat from her brow. “You guys go ahead,” she said, breathing heavily. “I’ll catch up.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow at me, trying to hide her frustration. “Mom, do we need to wait again?”
I sighed. “Let’s just give her a few minutes.”
But those few minutes turned into long stretches of waiting. We’d walk ahead, browse through the racks, and eventually circle back to find Beth still sitting there. It was becoming a pattern — and not just on that day. Every trip we went on, we had to slow down, stop more often, and accommodate her.
By the time we left the mall that day, the mood had shifted. What was supposed to be a carefree afternoon felt strained, and my girls were clearly frustrated.
“Mom, I hate to say it, but these trips aren’t the same anymore,” Kayla said as we loaded the shopping bags into the car.
“I know,” I replied, running a hand through my hair. “I just… I don’t want to leave her out.”
Evelyn nodded, her face softening. “We get it. But we can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to us either.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I knew they were right. The truth was, Beth’s presence had begun to change the dynamic of our trips, and not for the better.
We were holding back, compromising our enjoyment to accommodate her. And it wasn’t just about walking slower or sitting more. It felt like the whole energy of our outings was different.
The tipping point came when we started planning our annual trip to the pumpkin patch and apple orchard. It’s a tradition we’ve had for years — my favorite time of the year.
The fall colors, the smell of apples in the air, the laughter as we wandered through the orchard picking fruit. It was something we all looked forward to.
As we sat around the kitchen table, Evelyn looked up from her phone. “So, are we inviting Beth this year?”
I hesitated. We all knew what that would mean. Long breaks, slow walks, and probably missing out on some of the things we enjoyed most about the trip.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I finally said, my voice low. “It’s a lot of walking, and… well, you know.”
Kayla sighed with relief. “I’m glad you said it, Mom. It’s been hard with her.”
“We haven’t had a proper girls’ day in so long,” Lauren added, looking at her sisters. “I miss the way things used to be.”
The truth was staring me in the face, and there was no avoiding it.
That’s when I made the decision not to invite Beth. It wasn’t easy, but I told myself it was for the best. My daughters deserved a day to relax and enjoy themselves without constantly having to adjust to Beth’s limitations.
The day of the trip came, and it was perfect. The weather was crisp, the leaves were golden and red, and we spent the entire day walking through the orchard, picking apples, and laughing.
We didn’t have to stop or slow down. It was like the old days, just me and my girls. I even posted a few pictures on Facebook, not thinking much of it.
But later that night, my phone rang. It was Beth.
I took a deep breath before answering. “Hi, Beth.”
“Lilian, I saw the pictures on Facebook,” she said, her voice tense. “Why wasn’t I invited?”
I felt my stomach drop. I knew this conversation was coming, but I wasn’t prepared. “Oh, it was just a small trip,” I stammered. “Nothing big.”
“But I’m family,” Beth said, her voice rising. “Why didn’t you invite me?”
There it was. The question I had been dreading. I could’ve lied, made up some excuse, but what would be the point? The truth was staring me in the face, and there was no avoiding it.
“Beth,” I said softly, trying to choose my words carefully. “It’s not that we don’t want you there. It’s just… well, the walking. You’ve needed a lot of breaks, and it’s made it hard for us to enjoy the trips the way we used to.”
Silence hung in the air for what felt like an eternity.
“So, you didn’t invite me because of my weight?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I admitted, guilt washing over me. “It’s been difficult. We’ve had to change the way we do things, and… I didn’t want to say anything, but it’s affected our trips.”
Beth was quiet for a moment, and I could feel the hurt radiating through the phone. “I thought I was part of this family,” she finally said, her voice trembling. “I thought you cared about me.”
“I do care about you, Beth—”
“No, you don’t,” she interrupted. “If you did, you wouldn’t have excluded me like this. You wouldn’t make me feel like an outsider.”
And with that, she hung up. I sat there, staring at the phone, my heart heavy with regret.
Later that night, Liam texted me. “Mom, Beth’s really hurt. You need to apologize.”
I read the text over and over, feeling torn. Should I apologize? Was I wrong to protect this time with my daughters? I wasn’t sure anymore.
The next morning, I talked to the girls. “Do you think I was too harsh?” I asked as we sat around the kitchen table.
“No, Mom,” Evelyn said, shaking her head. “We love Beth, but it’s not fair to us either. Our trips haven’t been the same.”
Kayla nodded. “We just want to enjoy ourselves like we used to. You did the right thing.”
Their reassurance helped, but I couldn’t shake the guilt. I didn’t want to hurt Beth, but I couldn’t ignore the strain her presence had put on our trips.
I’d reached my limit. Maybe I could’ve handled it better, maybe I should’ve been kinder, but the truth was out now.
I still don’t know if I made the right decision. All I wanted was to protect the bond I had with my daughters. But now I wonder if that decision has cost me something far greater.
Do you think I handled it correctly? What would you have done in my place?
My Husband’s Cousin Came to Stay with Us Temporarily with Her Child – If Only I Had Known It Was All a Setup
When Derek’s cousin Daisy and her son arrive, it seems like an innocent favor. But strange comments, awkward glances, and hidden tension hint at a darker truth. Then comes the devastating revelation: Daisy isn’t his cousin, and Patrick isn’t his nephew. Shattered by betrayal and blindsided by lies, Rebecca is forced to unravel the secrets her husband tried to bury. Can trust survive a truth this explosive, or is it already too late?
When my husband told me his cousin Daisy and her son Patrick needed a place to stay for a couple of weeks, I didn’t think twice. He said they’d fallen on hard times and just needed a little help to get back on their feet.
“Of course,” I said. “Family is family.”
A woman and her son sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I mean, really? Before Derek and I were married, I had financial issues, too. It had been a struggle and a half to get myself out of my study loan debt, among other things.
So, what would it say about me if I didn’t reach out to help my husband’s family?
That was a month ago. If only I knew how deeply those words would cut.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When Daisy and Patrick arrived, everything seemed fine. At first, Daisy was polite but reserved, and I chalked it up to shyness. She wasn’t particularly warm toward me, but toward Derek?
She was a different person altogether!
She was animated, laughing at his jokes and chatting like they’d known each other forever. I ignored the faint flicker of discomfort that rose in my chest.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
They were family.
Right?
Patrick, though, was another story. At first, he was just an energetic eight-year-old. But within days, he turned into a whirlwind of chaos.
A little boy playing with his toys | Source: Midjourney
Crumbs littered the living room floor, sticky handprints appeared on the walls, and his toys became landmines scattered across the house.
The worst part?
He didn’t listen. I once asked him to clean up after himself, and he threw a tantrum, flinging cushions from the couch.
“You’re not my mother!” he shrieked. “I don’t listen to you!”
I finally had enough one evening.
An upset little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Patrick,” I said firmly, abandoning the light and caring attitude I wanted to initially use with him. “I need you to understand that you’re a guest here. Act properly. Behave. This isn’t your home.”
His reply made my stomach drop.
“No, Rebecca,” he said, spitting out my name. “My mom told me this is our home now.”
I stared at him, unsure if I’d heard him right.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Excuse me?
It had to be a misunderstanding, I told myself. Kids misinterpret things all the time, and Daisy probably said it to make the move easier on him.
But his words stayed with me, a tiny splinter in the back of my mind.
The real unraveling began a week later, during a casual lunch with Derek’s sister, Ashley. She’d come by to invite us to a family dinner, and the three of us were sitting outside, enjoying lemonade and plates of spaghetti. Daisy had taken Patrick for ice cream and a walk to the park.
A little boy holding an ice cream cone | Source: Midjourney
At some point, she turned to me with a warm smile.
“You’re a saint for letting them stay here, Becca,” she said.
I waved her off with a laugh, spearing a meatball with my fork.
“Stop it! It’s your family. How could I turn your cousin and nephew away? Why wouldn’t I let them stay?”
A plate of food | Source: Midjourney
Her fork froze midway to her mouth.
“Wait. So he didn’t tell you?” she gasped.
My chest tightened.
“Tell me what? Ash? Derek?”
Ashley’s eyes darted to Derek, who was suddenly very interested in his glass of lemonade.
A man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, my god. Becca…” she whispered. “You really don’t know…”
“Know what?” My voice wavered as the splinter in my mind turned into a dagger.
Ashley’s face paled.
“Daisy isn’t our cousin, Becca,” she blurted out. “She’s Derek’s ex-girlfriend. And Patrick? He’s their son.”
The room tilted.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I had to grip hard onto the edge of the table to steady myself, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“What are you talking about?” I croaked, though deep down, I already knew the answer.
Ashley looked stricken.
“I thought you knew, Becca! Derek told the whole family he’d explained everything to you. Our mother told him that he had to tell you the truth before you got married. Daisy was raising Patrick with her then-boyfriend, but Derek was sending child support to them!”
A talking older woman | Source: Midjourney
She sighed deeply, remorse filling her lungs. I knew she hated being the one to tell me.
Then, her gaze snapped to him.
“You said you told her!”
Derek didn’t meet my eyes. My stomach churned as every odd moment from the past month clicked into place.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Daisy’s reserved demeanor around me, her easy laughter with Derek, Patrick’s defiant declaration. I felt like the biggest fool on earth.
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor.
“You have to get back to work. I have to clean up here and log onto a meeting. I will be at your office in two hours. And you’re going to explain everything.”
Derek’s face clouded and then cleared. He nodded.
An upset man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. I’ll push my meetings, Becs,” he said, leaving.
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” Ashley said, picking up the empty plates. “I truly thought that Derek was a man of his word.”
“It’s not your fault, babe,” I said. “This is on him. But I need you to know that whatever happens next has nothing to do with you. Okay?”
She nodded meekly and began to wash the dishes.
A woman busy at the sink | Source: Midjourney
At Derek’s office, I waited in a small conference room, my heart still hammering. When Derek walked in, he looked like he’d aged ten years in the span of an hour.
He sat across from me, his shoulders slumped.
“Start talking,” I demanded.
He exhaled shakily, avoiding my gaze.
A conference room | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, Daisy is my ex-girlfriend,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And Patrick is my son.”
The words hit like a wrecking ball.
“You lied to me,” I said. “You looked me in the eyes and lied. You allowed me to set up the guest room, to turn my home office into a makeshift kid’s room? You watched all of that, and you didn’t think about telling me the truth?”
A cozy guest bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t know how to tell you, Becca,” he stammered. “It was years before we met. Daisy and I broke up before Patrick was born. I’ve always supported him financially, but I kept my distance. When Daisy reached out, she said that she needed help. And I felt obligated. That’s my son, after all.”
“Obligated?” I spat. “You lied to me about who they are! You let me believe they were your cousin and nephew! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”
“I know,” he said, tears pooling in his eyes. “But I was scared. I thought it would push you away. I thought it would be easier this way. I’m sorry. I’ll tell Daisy and Patrick to leave tonight if that’s what you want.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
His desperation might’ve softened me on any other day, but right then, it only made me angrier.
“They should’ve left the moment this charade started. You’ve disrespected me in every way possible.”
He didn’t try to argue.
“You’re right,” he whispered. “I’ll fix this.”
The next few days were excruciating.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
Daisy avoided me entirely, and Patrick kept to his room, his usual chaos replaced by an eerie silence.
Derek threw himself into damage control, arranging for Daisy and Patrick to move into a rental while simultaneously begging for my forgiveness.
I confronted Daisy once, though.
“Why would you go along with this lie?” I demanded, watching her make her way through my kitchen while she made a sandwich.
A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
She flushed with shame, almost dropping the jar of mayonnaise.
“I didn’t want to lie,” she said softly. “But Derek thought it would be easier. I’m sorry. I never wanted to cause problems.”
Her apology didn’t heal the wound, but it clarified one thing for me:
This disaster was Derek’s making.
A jar of mayonnaise | Source: Midjourney
Once Daisy and Patrick moved out, the house felt unbearably quiet.
Derek tried everything to make amends. He left me notes apologizing for his lies, attended therapy on his own, and took on every household chore without being asked.
His remorse was evident, but my trust in him had been shattered.
A man busy in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
It took weeks of reflection, long conversations with my best friend, Sharon, and more than a few sleepless nights before I made my decision.
“Just know what you’re getting into, Becca,” Sharon said, stirring her matcha latte. “I’ll support you, of course, but please, think about it from all sides.”
One evening, I called Derek into the living room. He sat across from me, his face tense with anticipation.
A matcha latte | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not ready to forgive you, D,” I began, my voice steady. “But I’m willing to try.”
Relief washed over his face, but I held up a hand.
“This is your last chance, Derek,” I said firmly. “No more lies. No more half-truths. If you want this marriage to survive, you have to earn back my trust.”
“I will,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “I promise.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Rebuilding our marriage won’t be easy, and part of me wonders if it’s even possible.
But for now, I’m taking it one day at a time. I’ve learned one thing through all of this. Trust isn’t something you can take for granted.
It’s fragile.
As for Derek? He’s on thin ice. And if he thinks I’ll ignore the warning signs ever again, he’s dead wrong.
So now, I have to figure out how to be a stepmother.
A close up of a couple | Source: Midjourney
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you. When Alicia and Matt’s Christmas holiday trip to Jamaica is canceled due to his father’s open-heart surgery, they decide that spending time with the family is more important. Weeks later, Nancy, Matt’s mother, promises the couple a gift… only to take it back later and replace it with something unexpected.
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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