
Thirteen years ago, I adopted my late husband’s secret twin daughters after his fatal car crash revealed his double life. I gave them everything, but at sixteen, they locked me out of my home. One week later, I discovered the shocking reason for their actions.
The morning Andrew died began like any other. The sun had just started peeking through my window, painting everything in a soft, golden light that made even my shabby countertops look almost magical.
It was the last normal moment I’d have for a long, long time.

A woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
When the phone rang, I almost didn’t answer it. Who calls at 7:30 in the morning? But something, intuition maybe, made me pick up.
“Is this Ruth?” A man’s voice, formal, hesitant.
“Speaking.” I took another sip of coffee, still watching the steam dance.
“Ma’am, I’m Officer Matthews with the Police Department. I’m sorry to inform you, but your husband was in an accident this morning. He didn’t survive.”

A shocked woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
The mug slipped from my hand, shattering against the linoleum. Coffee splashed across my bare feet, but I barely felt it. “What? No, that’s… no… not my Andrew!”
“Ma’am…” The officer’s voice softened. “There’s more you need to know. There was another woman in the car who also died… and two surviving daughters. Records in our database confirm they’re Andrew’s children.”
I slid down the kitchen cabinet until I hit the floor, barely registering the coffee soaking into my robe.

A woman collapsed in shock | Source: Midjourney
The room spun around me as ten years of marriage shattered like my coffee mug. “Children?”
“Twin girls, ma’am. They’re three years old.”
Three years old. Three years of lies, of business trips and late meetings. Three years of another family living parallel to mine, just out of sight. The jerk had been living a whole other life while I’d been suffering through infertility treatments and the heartache of two miscarriages.

Close up of a shocked woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure I was. Not really. “What… what happens to them now?”
“Their mother had no living relatives. They’re currently in emergency foster care until—”
I hung up. I couldn’t bear to hear more.

A cell phone | Source: Pexels
The funeral was a blur of black clothes and pitying looks. I stood there like a statue, accepting condolences from people who didn’t know whether to treat me like a grieving widow or a scorned woman.
But then I saw those two tiny figures in matching black dresses, holding hands so tightly their knuckles were white. My husband’s secret daughters.
One had her thumb in her mouth. The other was picking at the hem of her dress. They looked so lost and alone. Despite the hurt of Andrew’s betrayal, my heart went out to them.

Twin three-year-old girls | Source: Midjourney
“Those poor things,” my mother whispered beside me. “Their foster family couldn’t make it today. Can you imagine? No one here for them except the social worker.”
I watched as one twin stumbled, and her sister caught her automatically like they were two parts of the same person. Something in my chest cracked open.
“I’ll take them,” I heard myself say.
Mom turned to me, shocked.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“Ruth, honey, you can’t be serious. After what he did?”
“Look at them, Mom. They’re innocent in all this and they’re alone.”
“But—”
“I couldn’t have my own children. Maybe… maybe this is why.”
The adoption process was a nightmare of paperwork and questioning looks.

A woman and a man going through paperwork in an office | Source: Pexels
Why would I want my cheating husband’s secret children? Was I mentally stable enough? Was this some form of revenge?
But I kept fighting, and eventually, Carrie and Dana became mine.
Those first years were a dance of healing and hurting. The girls were sweet but wary as if waiting for me to change my mind. I’d catch them whispering to each other late at night, making plans for “when she sends us away.”
It broke my heart every time.

A woman standing outside a bedroom door | Source: Midjourney
“We’re having mac and cheese again?” seven-year-old Dana asked one night, her nose wrinkled.
“It’s what we can afford this week, sweetie,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “But look — I put extra cheese on yours, just how you like it.”
Carrie, always the more sensitive one, must have heard something in my voice. She elbowed her sister.
“Mac and cheese is my favorite,” she announced, though I knew it wasn’t.

A bowl of macaroni and cheese | Source: Pexels
By the time they turned ten, I knew I had to tell them the truth. The whole truth.
I’d practiced the words a hundred times in front of my bathroom mirror, but sitting there on my bed, watching their innocent faces, I felt like I might throw up.
“Girls,” I started, my hands trembling. “There’s something about your father and how you came to be my daughters that you need to know.”
They sat cross-legged on my faded quilt, mirror images of attention.

Twin ten-year-old girls sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
I told them everything about Andrew’s double life, their birth mother, and that terrible morning I got the call. I told them how my heart broke when I saw them at the funeral and how I knew then that we were meant to be together.
The silence that followed felt endless. Dana’s face had gone pale, her freckles standing out like dots of paint. Carrie’s lower lip trembled.
“So… so Dad was a liar?” Dana’s voice cracked. “He was cheating on you?”

A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney
“And our real mom…” Carrie wrapped her arms around herself. “She died because of him?”
“It was an accident, sweetheart. A terrible accident.”
“But you…” Dana’s eyes narrowed, something hard and horrible creeping into her young face. “You just took us? Like… like some kind of consolation prize?”

A frowning girl | Source: Midjourney
“No! I took you because—”
“Because you felt sorry for us?” Carrie interrupted, tears streaming now. “Because you couldn’t have your own kids?”
“I took you because I loved you the moment I saw you,” I reached for them, but they both flinched back. “You weren’t a consolation prize. You were a gift.”

A woman explaining herself | Source: Midjourney
“Liar!” Dana spat, jumping off the bed. “Everyone’s a liar! Come on, Carrie!”
They ran to their room and slammed the door. I heard the lock click, followed by muffled sobs and furious whispers.
The next few years were a minefield. Sometimes we’d have good days when we went on shopping trips or cuddled together on the sofa for movie nights. But whenever they got angry, the knives came out.

A teen girl shouting in her bedroom doorway | Source: Midjourney
“At least our real mom wanted us from the start!”
“Maybe she’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you!”
Each barb found its mark with surgical precision. But they were entering their teens, so I weathered their storms, hoping they’d understand someday.
Then came that awful day shortly after the girls turned sixteen.

A woman glancing over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney
I came home from work and my key wouldn’t turn in the lock. Then I spotted the note taped to the door.
“We’re adults now. We need our own space. Go and live with your mom!” it read.
My suitcase sat by the door like a coffin for all my hopes. Inside, I could hear movement, but no one answered my calls or pounding. I stood there for an hour before climbing back into my car.

A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney
At Mom’s house, I paced like a caged animal.
“They’re acting out,” she said, watching me wear a path in her carpet. “Testing your love.”
“What if it’s more than that?” I stared at my silent phone. “What if they’ve finally decided I’m not worth it? That I’m just the woman who took them in out of pity?”
“Ruth, you stop that right now.” Mom grabbed my shoulders.

A stern woman | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been their mother in every way that matters for thirteen years. They’re hurting, yes. They’re angry about things neither of you can change. But they love you.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because they’re acting exactly like you did at sixteen.” She smiled sadly. “Remember when you ran away to Aunt Sarah’s?”
I did. I’d been so angry about… what was it? Something trivial. I’d lasted three days before homesickness drove me back.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
Five more days crawled by.
I called in sick to work. I barely ate. Every time my phone buzzed, I lunged for it, only to be disappointed by another spam call or a text from a concerned friend.
Then, finally, on the seventh day, I got the call I’d longed for.
“Mom?” Carrie’s voice was small and soft, like when she used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms. “Can you come home? Please?”

A woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
I drove back with my heart in my throat.
The last thing I expected when I rushed through the front door was to find my house transformed. Fresh paint coated the walls, and the floors gleamed.
“Surprise!” The girls appeared from the kitchen, grinning like they used to when they were little.
“We’ve been planning this for months,” Dana explained, bouncing on her toes. “Working at the mall, babysitting, saving everything.”

A grinning teen girl | Source: Midjourney
“Sorry for the mean note,” Carrie added sheepishly. “It was the only way we could think of to keep it a surprise.”
They led me to what used to be their nursery, now transformed into a beautiful home office. The walls were soft lavender, and there, by the window, hung a photo of the three of us on adoption day, all teary-eyed and smiling.
“You gave us a family, Mom,” Carrie whispered, her eyes wet. “Even though you didn’t have to, even though we were a reminder of everything that hurt. You chose us anyway, and you’ve been the best mom ever.”

An emotional girl holding back tears | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my girls close, breathing in the familiar smell of their shampoo, feeling their hearts beat against mine.
“You two are the best things that have ever happened to me. You gave me a reason to keep going. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“But we do know, Mom,” Dana said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “We’ve always known.”

A woman hugging her daughter | Source: Midjourney
I Saw My Daughter’s Fiancé on a Date with Another Woman the Day before the Wedding and Decided to Teach Him a Lesson

As Diane runs around doing last-minute errands for her daughter Marissa’s wedding, she comes across her soon-to-be son-in-law—with another woman! Begrudgingly, she tells Marissa and then comes up with a plan to teach Stefan a lesson…
As I bustled through the busy streets, juggling errands for my daughter Marissa’s wedding, I couldn’t help but feel a nagging sense of unease.

An older woman holding shopping bags | Source: Midjourney
Call it mother’s intuition or something like that, but there was just something about Stefan, my daughter’s fiancé, that had never quite sat right with me.
He always seemed a bit too smooth, a bit too charming, like someone who was used to getting what he wanted without much effort.
Marissa, on the other hand, had worked through issues with her self-esteem and self-confidence, spending hours at the gym and the hair salon. She worked hard on herself, to get what she felt she deserved.

A young woman at the gym | Source: Midjourney
“I’m telling you, Brian,” I told my husband one day. “Our daughter is too good for this man.”
“I agree, she’s our little girl. But at the same time, there’s nothing we can do.”
He was right, of course. Marissa adored Stefan, and I had tried to keep my reservations to myself, not wanting to spoil her happiness.

A couple sitting and staring at each other | Source: Midjourney
But then, I saw Stefan’s true colors in the most unexpected way.
It was the day before the wedding, and I was exhausted from a whirlwind of preparations. I had insisted that my daughter spend the day at a spa, getting a full-on pamper session, while I got my nails done, picked up both our dresses, and finalized the decorations.

A woman at a spa | Source: Midjourney
“It’s all set, Diane,” Tracy, the wedding planner, told me at her office. “I just need you to choose between the two backup flower options. But don’t worry, we’re back on track. Go ahead and rest. The mother of the bride needs to be just as refreshed as the bride.”
“I’m definitely going to do that,” I reassured her. “I’m just going to grab a coffee and then head straight home for a bubble bath and a head massage from my husband.”

A smiling woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
“Get some carbs, too,” Tracy laughed as I walked out.
So, I did just that. I decided to take a break and grab a coffee at a cute little café across the road from Tracy’s office. As I entered, I was greeted by the comforting aroma of fresh pastries and coffee.

Coffee and croissants on a table | Source: Midjourney
“Just what I needed,” I muttered to myself.
But then, my heart nearly stopped.
There, in a corner of the café was Stefan. And he wasn’t alone. A young woman was there with him, laughing and touching his arm, their heads close together.

A couple sitting in a café together | Source: Midjourney
Then, right in front of the bustling café, they kissed. It was a tender, intimate kiss, the kind that spoke of familiarity and affection.
To the rest of the world, they looked like a cute little couple. But to me? This was the ultimate betrayal to my daughter.
I stood there, stunned, unable to process what I was seeing. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo.

A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
Thankfully, the photo was safely in my gallery when Stefan looked up. Our eyes met for a brief, horrifying moment. He quickly pulled away from the woman, but it was too late.
The damage was done. My eyes had seen the truth.

A close-up of a man’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
“Diane?” Stefan called.
I just shook my head and hurried out of the café, my mind and heart racing.
How could he do this to Marissa? The woman who loved him to her core and who would move heaven and earth for him! And on the eve of their wedding, no less?

An upset woman touching her face | Source: Midjourney
I knew I had to tell her, but how could I break her heart like this?
As I drove home, my anger simmered. Stefan needed to learn a lesson.
I dialed Brian’s number.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney
“Hi, honey,” Brian answered. “I’ll be home soon, I promise. I just need to pick up some Thai food for Marissa. She said she wanted to have our favorite family meal tonight.”
“We need to talk,” I said, cutting him off.
I quickly told Brian everything as I drove closer to our house.

A man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney
When I got home, I found Marissa in her room, surrounded by her wedding jewelry. Her face lit up when she saw me, but the look on my face must have given away that something was wrong.
“Mom, what happened?” she asked, concern taking over her beautiful features. “Is everything okay?”
I sat down next to her, taking a deep breath.

A young woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
“Marissa, I need to show you something,” I said, pulling out my phone. I showed her the photo of Stefan with the other woman.
Marissa stared at the screen, her face paling.
“No, this can’t be real,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

An upset young woman | Source: Midjourney
I put my arm around her, holding her as she sobbed.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I said. “I wish it wasn’t true.”
Through her tears, Marissa looked at me, anger and betrayal flashing in her eyes.

A mother comforting her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, I can’t marry him. I just can’t. I won’t. I have to call off the wedding.”
I nodded. I couldn’t blame her at all. She was devastated. The man she adored had been cheating on her.
But then an idea struck me. There was a way to make Stefan face the consequences of his actions in a way he wouldn’t forget.

A determined older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Darling, what if we turn the tables on him? Make sure he knows exactly what he’s losing?” I asked.
She looked at me, confusion mingling with her tears.
“What do you mean, Mom?” she asked.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I explained my plan, and slowly, a determined look replaced the hurt on her face. She agreed, and we set it in motion.
We spent the rest of the evening in near silence, eating the Thai food that Brian had brought home.

A close-up of a plate of food | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, Marissa and her best friend Leah headed to the resort where she and Stefan were supposed to spend their honeymoon.
The reservation was in Marissa’s name because Brian and I had gifted the couple their honeymoon, so there was no issue with her using it.

A beautiful resort | Source: Midjourney
As for Brian and me, we went to the wedding venue, where guests were already gathering, helping themselves to drinks and canapés. They were blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding behind the scenes.
Stefan spotted me as soon as I arrived. He rushed over, looking anxious.
“Where’s Marissa?” he asked me, trying to keep his voice calm.

Guests mingling at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
I smiled, keeping my tone light. It was almost as if I hadn’t caught him cheating on my daughter just the day before.
“Oh, she’ll be done soon; she had a mishap with her hair stylist.”
He frowned but nodded, trying to mask his discomfort.

A close-up of a groom | Source: Midjourney
As the minutes ticked by and the wedding band began to play, the tension grew. Finally, with all the guests present, I took the stage.
Holding the microphone, I called for everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here today. We have a slight change in plans,” I began.

An older woman standing with a microphone | Source: Midjourney
There were a few gasps in the crowd, but I continued.
“My daughter isn’t here right now. She’s on her way to the resort where she and Stefan were supposed to spend their honeymoon.”
A murmur of confusion spread through the crowd. Stefan shifted uncomfortably.

Shocked guests at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
“But Marissa did want me to show you something very important.”
With that, I clicked a remote, and the photo of Stefan kissing the other woman appeared on the screen behind me. That, in itself, tugged at my heart because Marissa had wanted photos of her and Stefan to be playing in the background during the ceremony.
Now, the screen was used to show his infidelity.

A couple kissing | Source: Midjourney
Gasps filled the room. Stefan’s parents stood up, their faces a mixture of shock and fury. The murmurs turned into an uproar as people processed what they were seeing.
“Marissa isn’t late,” I said to Stefan simply. “She deserves so much better than this, and now, everyone knows the truth.”
Stefan’s parents approached me, anger across their faces.

An upset older couple | Source: Midjourney
“How could you do this?” his mother hissed. “We paid for this wedding!”
I met her gaze, unflinching.
“Your son did this. Not me. He betrayed Marissa, and she has every right to walk away.”

An embarrassed older couple | Source: Midjourney
Everything was chaotic after that. Guests were whispering, and some were even leaving. Stefan looked defeated, slumped in a chair, while his parents tried to salvage what they could of the situation.
I called Marissa to check in as Brian spoke to some of our family and friends.
“Mom, I made the right decision,” she said boldly. “I’ve been thinking, and I know it now.”

A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney
“You did, sweetheart,” I replied. “And now, you can move on without looking back.”
After that, Brian and I helped ourselves to the wedding buffet before heading home.

A wedding buffet | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you.
My Best Friend Gave Me the Wrong Dress Code for Her Wedding — I Decided to Outplay Her Smartly
When Emily’s friend, Elle, gets engaged to her boyfriend, Brian, the supportive bestie is over the moon. Emily does everything she can to help Elle plan her dream wedding. But then Elle starts acting secretive and gives Emily a wedding invite with the incorrect dress code. Thankfully, a mutual colleague gives Emily the correct details, allowing her to show up to the wedding to teach Elle a lesson.
“I’m engaged, Em!” Elle said, rushing through my door while I was sitting on the couch and reading a book.

A woman reading on a couch | Source: Unsplash
“What?” I exclaimed, standing up to hug her tightly. “I’m so happy for you, my girl!”
Elle sat on the couch and showed me her hand.
“Look at this rock!” she said.

A close-up of an engagement ring | Source: Unsplash
Of course, I was over the moon for her. We’d been through so much together, and now it was her turn to walk down the aisle.
For my wedding, a few years ago, Elle had been right by my side. She helped me plan every little detail, from the font on my wedding invitations to the menu selections.
“It’s more like you and Elle are getting married,” my husband, Grant, laughed one evening when I told him everything that Elle and I had planned.

A laughing man | Source: Unsplash
“Well, she’s been around longer than you,” I replied, showing him the mock-up for our wedding invitations.
And it was true, Elle and I had been friends since our childhood, having lived on the same street and gone to the same kindergarten together.
We shared every major milestone, from awkward teenage years to college graduation, together. We even ended up working at the same company, making sure to have lunch and tea breaks together every day.
So, naturally, I expected her to be just as involved in her wedding planning as she was in mine.
“Brian and I don’t want to be engaged for too long,” she said one day at the office while we were having tea and pastries.
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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