My MIL was never satisfied with me. She made a million remarks every time we met. But that day, her usual nitpicking crossed the line. Gertrude declared that I wasn’t beautiful enough for her son. That was the last straw, so I entered a beauty contest! But even there, she continued to sabotage me.
David and I had recently returned from our honeymoon, and our life together was filled with love and happiness. However, my mother-in-law, Gertrude, never took me seriously.
She criticized me constantly, no matter what I did. Even that evening, during dinner, she found faults in everything.
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“Grace, dear, have you ever tried seasoning the soup with thyme? It would improve the flavor significantly,” Gertrude’s tone dripping with condescension.
I forced a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, Gertrude.”
David, oblivious to the tension, looked up from his plate and said, “I think the soup is perfect, Grace.”
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Gertrude’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“The presentation of the food on the plates could be more refined. And that lipstick, my dear, it really doesn’t suit your skin tone.”
I bit my lip, trying to maintain my composure.
“I’ll consider that next time,” I murmured, feeling my cheeks flush.
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David, as usual, didn’t notice the tension. He was often lost in his business thoughts.
“Sorry, ladies, I have to check my email. I’m expecting an important letter,” he added, apologizing as he left.
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Once he was gone, Gertrude turned to me, her smile vanishing.
“Grace, you must understand. You’re not beautiful enough for my son.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt a lump form in my throat but managed to nod.
Without saying a word, I left the hose and retreated to my small atelier, a place that brought me immense joy.
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Designing and sewing clothes was my passion, but even this, Gertrude belittled, considering it an undignified occupation for someone in her family.
As I sat there, feeling dejected, I noticed an invitation from a friend to a beauty contest she was organizing. I picked it up, reading the details.
Despite my doubts, I decided to enter. I needed to prove my worth, not just to Gertrude, but to myself.
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***
The following weeks were a whirlwind of activity. When I first told David about entering the beauty contest, he was incredibly supportive.
“Grace, I think it’s a great idea,” he said, holding my hands. “You should do it for yourself.”
His encouragement gave me the strength I needed to go through with it. I underwent intensive training, attended workshops, and participated in rehearsals.
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All the contestants lived together in a hotel, cut off from their families, only interacting with each other. Many of the girls were envious and willing to do anything to win, like Chloe, who often sabotaged others.
One morning, I saw Chloe “accidentally” knock over a fellow contestant’s makeup bag, scattering its contents everywhere.
“Oops, sorry!”
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Despite this, I quickly made friends and impressed everyone with my kindness.
“Grace, you’re a lifesaver,” said Emma, another contestant, as I helped her fix a ripped dress.
“It’s nothing, really,” I replied with a smile. “We’re all in this together, right?”
During a rehearsal, I had a heartfelt conversation with Katie, a contestant I had befriended. We sat in a quiet corner of the auditorium, watching others practice. Chloe was listening as always.
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“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Katie asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.
“I think so,” I replied. “I’m going to present a clothing collection I designed. It’s created for everyday wear.”
“That’s amazing, Grace. You’re not just competing; you’re making a difference.”
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“Thanks, Katie. What about you? What’s your talent performance?”
“I’m going to sing,” she said with a shy smile. “I’ve always loved singing, but I’ve never performed in front of such a large audience before.”
“You’ll be great,” I assured her. “You’ve got an incredible voice.”
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***
Later that evening, I was in my hotel room, organizing my outfits for the next day, when there was a knock on the door. It was my friend, Lily, who had invited me to the contest.
“Hey, Grace,” she said, glancing around the room. “How are you doing? How’s the preparation going?”
“Hi! I’m a bit nervous, but everything is coming together. Thanks again, Lily, for inviting me to this contest. It means a lot.”
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“I’m sure you’ll do great,” she said warmly. “Actually, I need you to sign some documents regarding your participation. Do you have a pen?”
“Sure, let me find one for you,” I said, turning to my desk.
When I turned back, I saw Lily quickly stepping away from my wardrobe, trying to act casual.
“Here you go.”
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“Thanks,” she took a pen, her eyes avoiding mine. She handed me the documents, and I noticed her hands trembling slightly.
I decided not to comment on her actions. Instead, I took the documents and signed them politely.
“All done,” I said, handing them back to her.
“Great,” she said, forcing a smile. “Good luck tomorrow, Grace. I know you’ll shine.”
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“Thanks,” I replied. “I appreciate your support.”
We exchanged pleasantries, and she left the room quickly. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but I had no time to dwell on it.
I hung the garment bag with my dress in the wardrobe and decided to get some rest. As I lay in bed, thoughts of the contest swirled in my mind.
I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.
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***
The day of the contest arrived, and everything was going well. The air buzzed with excitement as contestants performed their talents, singing, dancing, and displaying their unique skills.
When my turn came, I presented my clothing collection, each piece crafted with care and dedication. I took a moment to steady my nerves and began to speak.
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“Good evening, everyone. My name is Grace, and I have a deep love for designing and sewing clothes. Tonight, I want to share with you a collection that is very close to my heart.”
I gestured to the models wearing my designs as they walked across the stage. Each outfit was unique, showcasing my skills and creativity. The audience watched intently, their eyes following every detail.
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“I have always believed that fashion should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their circumstances,” I continued.
“That’s why my dream is to use my talent to help those in need. I want to create beautiful, affordable clothing for families who cannot afford high-end fashion. These clothes you’re seeing tonight are part of that vision.”
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The audience began to murmur, clearly moved by my words. I pressed on.
“Every piece in this collection will be donated to families who need them the most. It’s my way of giving back to the community and making a difference, one stitch at a time. Fashion is not just about looking good; it’s about knowing that someone cares.”
As I finished speaking, the models lined up for a final walk. The audience stood up, clapping and cheering, and my heart swelled with pride and joy.
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David and Gertrude came to congratulate me. David handed me a beautiful bouquet of pink peonies.
“You were amazing, Grace,” he said, giving me a warm hug.
“Thanks, David.”
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Gertrude, however, leaned in and whispered in my ear:
“Don’t celebrate too soon. This contest isn’t meant for someone like you.”
Her words stung, but I forced a smile and thanked them both.
Backstage, the emotions of the day caught up with me. But I couldn’t let Gertrude’s words break me. I pulled myself together.
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Suddenly, the organizer ran up to me, looking frantic.
“Grace, we have a problem. That’s about your dress.”
“What do you mean?”
“You need to see it for yourself,” she said, leading me to the dressing area.
I opened the garment bag. My breath caught in my throat when I realized it was Katie’s dress that had been spoiled. The fabric was torn, and the seams were ripped apart.
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Katie, who had been standing nearby, burst into tears.
“What am I going to do now? This contest is so important for my future.”
Everyone suspected Chloe, who had boasted about doing anything to win, but I had a different suspicion. I took a deep breath and put my arm around Katie.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure something out.”
“But how?” Katie sobbed.
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I thought for a moment, then made a decision.
“Katie, you take my dress for the final runway.”
Katie looked at me, shocked. “But what about you? What will you wear?”
“You need this more than I do. I can wear something else.”
“Grace, I can’t believe you would do this for me. Thank you so much.”
I smiled and handed her the dress. “Go get ready. You deserve to shine.”
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As Katie hurried off to prepare, I found a simple dress I had made earlier. It wasn’t as glamorous as the one I had planned to wear, but it would do.
I changed quickly and took a moment to steady myself.
Back on stage, all the contestants appeared in stunning gowns. Katie wore my dress and looked absolutely radiant.
The audience murmured, noticing the contrast between my simple dress and the glamorous outfits around me. But I held my head high, knowing I had made the right choice.
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When it was my turn to speak about my future plans, I stated that I intended to be an ordinary woman who supported others, not chasing fame.
Once again, the audience gave me a standing ovation.
I caught a glimpse of Gertrude’s face, her eyes narrowing with frustration. It was obvious that she had orchestrated all that.
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Chloe wouldn’t have had the cunning to pull off something so intricate—it was clear now who was behind it all.
The moment of truth was approaching, and soon, I would finally be able to dictate my own rules in this game with my mother-in-law.
***
The judges declared Katie the winner, and I received the People’s Choice award.
As I stood on the stage, holding my trophy. The audience cheered and applauded.
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After the contest, David found me backstage. His eyes were shining with pride and love.
“Grace, you were incredible. You don’t need beauty contests to prove your worth. You’ve already shown your inner beauty and deserve all the respect and love in the world.”
“Thanks, David,” I said, feeling a warmth spread through me. “That means a lot.”
The support from the audience, especially David, made me remember who I am.
But there was one more thing I needed to do. I approached Gertrude, who was standing near the exit and barely concealed her frustration.
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“Gertrude, I know you were behind the sabotage. You bribed the organizer, my former friend. She confessed everything.”
Gertrude quickly masked her surprise with a cold smile.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grace.”
“Enough. This ends now. You tried to undermine me, but it didn’t work. I’ve shown my worth, and no amount of sabotage can change that.”
David stepped forward as he finally understood the situation.
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“Mother, Grace is right. It’s time you accept her for who she is. She deserves respect and love, and I won’t tolerate any more of your schemes.”
Gertrude opened her mouth to argue but then closed it, her face turning red with anger and embarrassment. She realized she had been caught and had no more excuses to hide behind.
“We’re leaving now,” David said, taking my hand.
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“We’re going to celebrate our victory and love. You can join us if you choose to accept Grace and treat her with the respect she deserves.”
Gertrude remained silent. David and I turned and walked away, leaving her behind.
The moment of truth had arrived, and I had finally stood up to Gertrude. David squeezed my hand, and I looked up at him, feeling a deep sense of gratitude.
“Let’s go celebrate,” he said with a smile.
“Let’s do that.”
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I Found a Lace Robe Hidden in My Husband’s Closet – Then I Saw My Stepmother Wearing It
When Calla finds a lace robe hidden in her husband’s closet, she assumes that it’s a romantic surprise. But her world turns upside down when she sees her stepmother, Lorraine, wearing it. Suspicion mounts and tensions spiral as Calla overhears Lorraine’s true scheme…
When my dad passed away last year, it felt like the house lost its soul. He’d built that place himself, a sprawling two-story home that always smelled like pine and fresh paint.
After his death, my husband, Jason, our six-year-old daughter, Emma, and I moved in to help my stepmother, Lorraine.
A couple packing | Source: Midjourney
She and my dad had been married for five years, but Lorraine made sure that everyone knew she’d been his “rock” during his final days.
“You can’t deny it, darling,” she said to me after her speech at the funeral. “Seriously, Calla, if I went on my holiday to Thailand, your father would have died by himself. All alone. Poor thing.”
Living with her, though, was like walking on a tightrope. Everything about Lorraine was sharp—her stilettos, her words, even the way she eyed Jason when she thought I wasn’t looking.
An older woman in a black dress | Source: Midjourney
But family is family, and I tried to make it work.
Until I found the robe.
It started innocently enough. I was folding Jason’s laundry, something I did a thousand times without a second thought. As I opened his closet to hang up a shirt, I noticed something out of place.
There it was, a small glossy gift bag shoved into the corner, partly hidden beneath his jackets.
A glossy gift bag | Source: Midjourney
Curiosity got the better of me. I pulled it out, my pulse quickening when I saw what was inside: a lace robe, sheer and intimate.
My first thought was that Jason had bought it for me. Christmas was around the corner, and while he wasn’t exactly the romantic type, maybe this was his way of surprising me.
I smiled at the idea of him stepping out of his comfort zone.
A lace robe on a hanger | Source: Midjourney
If only that had been the truth.
A few days later, Lorraine called me into her room. Her voice was syrupy sweet, the kind of tone that always set me on edge. She had changed the room since my father passed. It was now a maroon, velvety… something. Luxurious yet somehow seductive… I couldn’t quite find the words to describe it.
“Oh, Calla, sweetheart,” she cooed. “You won’t believe what my new boyfriend got me!”
A maroon bedroom | Source: Midjourney
New boyfriend? Lorraine hadn’t mentioned anyone else before.
When I walked in, my stomach dropped.
There she was, draped in the robe, my robe. The one I’d found in Jason’s closet. She twirled, the lace floating around her like some cruel joke.
“You like it?” she purred, smirking at my expression. “He has exquisite taste, don’t you think? And I have a pair of heels that would make it look magical.”
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t breathe. My mind raced, piecing together a picture I didn’t want to see.
Was Jason…? No. He wouldn’t. Lorraine?
No. Never. Unless… Would he?
“Where… where did you get that?” I managed to stammer.
Lorraine’s smirk deepened.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, my boyfriend gave it to me,” she said. “I just told you, Calla! You’re not listening to a word I say, sweetheart! Don’t you worry, maybe you’ll get one too… Anyway, he’s discreet.”
My knees felt weak. Look, there could have been a logical explanation. But something felt so wrong. I stumbled out of her room, her laughter echoing behind me.
That night, I cornered Jason after reading with Emma. She had gone to sleep quickly, ready for her “Dress as your favorite character” day at school. She was going as Princess Belle.
A mom and daughter reading a book | Source: Midjourney
My heart was pounding, my hands shaking.
“Jason,” I began, my voice trembling. “I need to ask you something, and I want the truth.”
He looked up from the TV, confused.
“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked. “Hang on, let me pause this movie.”
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“Did you… Did you give Lorraine a robe? The lace one I found in your closet?”
Jason’s face twisted in disbelief.
“What? No way! What are you talking about?”
“She showed me a robe before dinner tonight,” I said, tears threatening to spill. “The same one I found in your closet.”
A shocked young man | Source: Midjourney
Jason’s jaw dropped.
“You think I’d buy her something like that? Are you serious right now?”
“Then how did she get it?” I demanded.
“I don’t know,” he said, running his hand through his hair.
A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know what to say,” I said.
His frustration seemed genuine, but doubt gnawed at me.
“I swear, I didn’t give her anything! Seriously, Calla. The only thing I’ve given Lorraine today was a piece of garlic bread at dinner.”
Over the next few days, I couldn’t shake the unease. Lorraine’s smug looks, Jason’s denial—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t solve.
A plate of garlic bread | Source: Midjourney
Then, one afternoon, as I organized Emma’s art supplies in the dining room, I heard Lorraine on the phone.
“Yes, Kerry, of course, I planted it,” she whispered. “That idiot husband of hers didn’t even notice. It’s only a matter of time before they’re at each other’s throats. Once they leave, this house will finally be mine. I’m telling you, that’s why they moved in. They want my house.”
My blood ran cold. She planned this. She had planned this!
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
She’d planted the robe in Jason’s closet to make it look like they were having an affair. All to drive us out of the house my dad had left behind.
That night, I told Jason everything I’d overheard. His face darkened with anger, and he crunched his beer can in his fist, spilling the final contents.
“She’s trying to ruin our marriage,” he said, his voice tight. “And to think that we uprooted Emma for this? This ends now.”
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We hatched a plan.
The next morning, over coffee and bagels, I casually mentioned to Lorraine that Jason and I were considering moving out. Her face lit up, though she tried to hide it behind a thin veil of concern.
“Oh, well, if you think that’s best…” she said, barely containing her glee.
That evening, Jason and I invited a lawyer friend over for dinner, someone Lorraine didn’t recognize. We told her he was a “realtor” helping us look for new homes, but honestly, we just wanted to figure out where we stood. Lorraine spent most of the dinner talking about how much she preferred to live alone.
Bagels on a counter | Source: Midjourney
“I’m old now,” she said, as if she were trying to convince herself. “I need my space. And I’m sure you kids need yours. Don’t you want to give Emma a baby brother or sister?”
I wasn’t sure that I wanted the house, but Jason had persuaded me to fight.
“Come on, honey,” he said. “It’s important for you to have a piece of your father’s legacy. You are his legacy, yes. But he built this with his hands. This home has been around since you were a child. You want Lorraine to have it, really?”
An older woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know,” I said. “Honestly, I’m not sure what I want.”
A week later, we called a “family meeting” in the living room. Lorraine sauntered in, confident and smug, as if she’d already won.
Jason handed her a stack of papers.
“What’s this?” she asked, flipping through the pages.
A pile of paper on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“It’s the deed to the house,” Jason said calmly. “We had it reviewed, and it turns out that Calla and I are the primary beneficiaries. You don’t own this house, Lorraine. We do.”
Her face went pale.
“That’s not possible. Calla! What did you do? Your father would never leave me with nothing…”
“He didn’t leave you with nothing, Lorraine,” I said. “He left you with a lot of money. But this is my childhood home. Of course, he’d want me to have it.”
A shocked older woman | Source: Midjourney
Lorraine started to protest, but Jason cut her off.
“And before you think about pulling another stunt, know this: we’re not going anywhere. But you might want to start packing.”
“Or you can see if your boyfriend will take you in?” I said nonchalantly.
Lorraine stammered, her sharp tongue suddenly useless.
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“What? There’s no boyfriend?” I asked.
“I planned that! I staged the entire thing! There is no boyfriend, Calla. There is no cheating, which is what I wanted you to think. I wanted you to see the robe and know that… or think that something was going on.”
“I know,” I said. “I overheard you. But look, you have a week. I’ll give you that because it’s what my father would expect from me.”
“I’ll be better. I’ll do everything—the cooking, the cleaning, homework with Emma, you name it!” she begged.
An older woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t want my child around you,” I said simply. “I’m sorry, but that’s just how I feel.”
Within a week, Lorraine was gone. And I finally had peace in the home my dad had loved so much. I turned Lorraine’s bedroom into a reading room for myself, and half of it a playroom for Emma.
And that robe?
Lorraine had conveniently left it behind. I donated it to charity with the rest of the things she’d abandoned. Let someone else enjoy it because I sure as hell wasn’t keeping it.
A cozy reading room | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Suspected My Husband Was Cheating on Me and Followed Him One Day
When Lily and Jason’s son, Nathan, brings his fiancée home for the long weekend, Lily is excited to get to know the young woman. But during that weekend, she notices her husband acting strange. So, she tries to uncover what is going on with Jason — only to open a can of worms with secrets wriggling everywhere.
From the moment Nathan introduced us to his fiancée, I knew something was off.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t sweet or lovely, because she was. Her name was Tessa, and she’d come to Chicago with Nathan from his college in Michigan to spend a long weekend with us and meet the family.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
My son and his new beau had been dating for over a year, and she’d just been a name until now. Now that she was here, I could see why my son was head-over-heels. Tessa was sharp, funny, and kind in a genuine way.
Within minutes, my eight-year-old daughter, Sophie, was practically glued to her side.
But my husband, Jason, was different that night. Usually, he’s animated and easygoing, especially around Nathan and his friends. But when Tessa was around, he was quiet, almost as if he were retreating into himself.
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
It was strange. Very strange.
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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