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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

My Greedy In-Laws Tried to Get Rid of Our Sick Mom, but She Brilliantly Taught Them a Lesson

When Lexie’s husband’s parents are left to give up their home due to losing their jobs, they are left stranded. Seeing her husband’s distress at being unable to help, Lexie allows her mother to welcome them to stay with her. Things start off okay, but then the tables start to turn. Instead of being grateful, they start to complain about everything, resulting in a call to social services.

Not long after Cameron and I got married, his parents were faced with unfortunate circumstances. His mom, Jessica, and dad, Roger had no choice but to give up their home because Roger had lost his job.

An elderly couple sitting on a bench | Source: Unsplash

An elderly couple sitting on a bench | Source: Unsplash

Cameron and I didn’t have the space to take them in. But they were desperate, and so were we. We couldn’t let them just try and figure it out for themselves.

When they realized that my mother lives alone, they asked her to let them move in with her. My mom had a double-story house, but due to being wheelchair bound since a car accident a few years ago, she had a live-in nurse to care for her.

A broken windshield | Source: Pexels

A broken windshield | Source: Pexels

“Please, Tanya,” my mother-in-law said when we were all at my mother’s house for dinner. “We don’t have anywhere else to go. And we don’t have any money available at the moment.”

I knew that this entire thing affected my husband because there was only so much we could do in our own capacity. When my mother agreed, Cameron gripped onto my hand tightly and sighed in relief.

A woman in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney

“Of course, you can stay here. You can stay for as long as you need to,” my mother told them.

At first, things were okay.

My mother-in-law cooked meals, and my father-in-law mowed the grass and took care of the basic upkeep of the house.

A person cutting oranges | Source: Pexels

A person cutting oranges | Source: Pexels

But then, things changed and social services got involved. It was a nightmare.

This is what happened.

My in-laws began complaining that my mom was occupying the whole first floor, something that was obvious. Since her accident, my sister and I had converted the first floor into an entire house by itself for my mother.

A wheelchair beside a bed | Source: Pexels

A wheelchair beside a bed | Source: Pexels

She needed her space, and we were going to give it to her. The second floor was for our space when we visited Mom.

Instead of being grateful, my in-laws complained that they couldn’t put their stuff there. They mumbled about the simple food my mother had in her fridge.

An open fridge | Source: Pexels

An open fridge | Source: Pexels

“It’s such basic foods. There’s nothing new or different here,” Roger would say.

But still, even though they complained, they didn’t try to buy their own food or food that they would have liked to eat on occasion.

An elderly couple shopping | Source: Pexels

An elderly couple shopping | Source: Pexels

Nothing changed when Jessica got a job as head librarian at the local library or when Roger got a job as a proofreader for the local newspaper.

“Don’t you think they should start looking for a new place?” Cameron asked me when we were taking a walk one evening.

An elderly woman in a library | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman in a library | Source: Pexels

“I’m sure your mom cannot wait to have the house back,” he said.

“Actually,” I replied. “I think she enjoys having people there. She always said that it was too quiet with just her and Linda.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “But my parents can be a lot.”

A couple taking a walk | Source: Pexels

A couple taking a walk | Source: Pexels

It was as if my husband had spoken it into existence.

One day, as I went over to my mother’s house with pastries, I found her looking upset.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her immediately.

Pastries in a box | Source: Pexels

Pastries in a box | Source: Pexels

“Cameron’s parents,” she began slowly. “They’ve been hinting about a nursing home for me. I heard them talk about it last night, too.”

“Mom, do you want me to ask them to leave? They’re crossing the line,” I said, worried about her well-being.

A woman holding her face | Source: Unsplash

A woman holding her face | Source: Unsplash

“Oh, honey,” she said, a mysterious smile forming on her face. “I’ll take care of everything, don’t you worry.”

A few days later, my mother-in-law called us crying.

“How could Tanya do that to us?” she asked.

A crying old woman | Source: Pexels

A crying old woman | Source: Pexels

Apparently, my mother had told them to pack their things and move to the first floor because she was ready to move into a nursing home. She said that she needed the help and that she wanted to live a little easier.

Cameron’s parents thought that they had won the battle they created.

A healthcare facility | Source: Unsplash

A healthcare facility | Source: Unsplash

Instead, my mother had called social services, telling them that she had two individuals who were living with her temporarily but needed the help.

The next day, people from social services arrived at my mother’s doorstep, ready to take Jessica and Roger away to their social housing facilities.

A person holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A person holding a phone | Source: Pexels

They were livid.

Cameron and I met them at my mother’s house because they demanded an audience.

“This is outrageous! We thought we were moving downstairs, not out of the house!” my mother-in-law shrieked.

An angry old woman | Source: Pexels

An angry old woman | Source: Pexels

“How dare she trick us like this! We have done everything for her these past few months,” my father-in-law added.

Beside me, my husband flinched. He was caught in the middle, not knowing what to do or how to react.

“You took advantage of her kindness and tried to push her into a nursing home. You got what you deserved,” I retorted, barely containing my own anger at their words.

An angry old man | Source: Pexels

An angry old man | Source: Pexels

“You can’t just throw us out like this!” my mother-in-law protested.

“You’ve got a little place to live now,” my mother said, smiling. “But also, that’s not my problem. I helped you out, and you did nothing but complain. You didn’t want to be here. You were just here because you had no choice. Now, you can learn to fend for yourselves.”

Jessica was appalled. I don’t think she expected my mother to retaliate in that way.

A smiling woman in a wheelchair | Source: Unsplash

A smiling woman in a wheelchair | Source: Unsplash

It was true, social services housed them in a little apartment which was close to both their jobs. They would be absolutely fine until they chose to move elsewhere.

As they left, they continued to curse, but it was clear that they had been defeated by the whole episode.

A small apartment | Source: Unsplash

A small apartment | Source: Unsplash

“I’m sorry,” my husband told my mother when we settled her down again. “This was all my fault.”

It took a while for my mother to calm him down and make him realize that nothing was his fault.

“Your parents needed a place to stay, and they were welcome to do so here, but they continued to complain. They made life difficult here. Everything was a problem,” she said.

An upset man | Source: Unsplash

An upset man | Source: Unsplash

I continued to work my way around the kitchen while they spoke. I knew that my husband needed a pick-me-up, so I made his favorite Indian dishes, hoping that it would do the trick.

If I had to admit it, I also felt like it was my fault. I should have objected to the move in the first place. But I knew that my in-laws needed a place to live when they lost their homes. And maybe it was because of guilt.

A plate of food | Source: Unsplash

A plate of food | Source: Unsplash

Guilt born from the mere fact that Cameron and I couldn’t do it ourselves, that we both had allowed them to live with my mother.

As we got into bed that night, I told my husband that we needed to see his parents. We needed to make sure that they were okay, despite their horrible behavior, they needed to know that we still cared.

A couple lying together | Source: Unsplash

A couple lying together | Source: Unsplash

The following day, we met them at their new apartment. It was a quaint little place, but it was just enough for the two of them. As we walked in, there were boxes lying everywhere and the smell of burnt toast permeated the air.

“I didn’t check the toaster setting,” Roger said, as his way of explaining.

Opened cardboard boxes | Source: Midjourney

Opened cardboard boxes | Source: Midjourney

We ended up taking them to a café for lunch, where they admitted to their behavior.

“We were in the wrong,” my mother-in-law said. “We know that now. We saw an easy way to live with Tanya, and we just wanted more. But now, we have to make it work for ourselves.”

An interior of a coffee shop | Source: Unsplash

An interior of a coffee shop | Source: Unsplash

I dug into my pancakes while Cameron let his parents have a piece of his mind. He went on about how they needed to be responsible for their actions and that nothing would make up for their behavior toward my mother.

“You embarrassed me. And you took advantage of my wife’s mother,” he said. “Do you know how that makes me feel?”

A stack of pancakes | Source: Unsplash

A stack of pancakes | Source: Unsplash

I allowed him to talk his way through it, while his parents continued to eat their eggs benedict in silence.

As we drove home, my husband stopped to get my mother a bouquet of flowers.

“She deserves it,” he said.

A bouquet of flowers | Source: Unsplash

A bouquet of flowers | Source: Unsplash

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

When Katie discovers that her mother-in-law has been making strange dolls for her daughter, she confronts the old woman, only to discover that she has been holding onto grief for her entire life. But what does that mean for the mysterious dolls? And the little girl who plays with them?

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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