I Came Home with My Newborn Twins to Find the Locks Changed, My Stuff Thrown Out, and a Note Waiting for Me

After giving birth to my first children, I thought my husband would start choosing us more over his mother, but that wasn’t the case. This time, he’d chosen her side over me for the last time, so I exposed her for the bully and liar she was.

You’d think bringing home your newborn twins would be one of the happiest moments of your life. For me, it started like that, but it soon turned into an absolute nightmare!

An upset mother with her newborn babies | Source: Midjourney

An upset mother with her newborn babies | Source: Midjourney

After three days in the hospital, recovering from a grueling delivery, I was finally discharged and ready to head home with my beautiful twin daughters, Ella and Sophie. I’d imagined this moment for months: Derek, my husband, picking us up at the hospital with flowers, tears of joy in his eyes as he took one of the girls into his arms.

But instead, at the last minute, I got a hurried phone call that changed everything…

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, baby,” my husband said, his voice clipped. “I am so sorry, but I can’t come pick you guys up as planned.”

“What?” I asked, adjusting the swaddle around Sophie. “Derek, I just had twins. What’s so important that you can’t—”

“It’s my mom,” he interrupted. “She’s in bad shape. Hectic chest pains. I need to pick her up and take her to that hospital close to her.”

His words hit me like a bucket of cold water. “What? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Derek, I need you here.”

“I know,” he said, exasperated. “But this happened suddenly, and it’s serious. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

An anxious man on a call | Source: Midjourney

An anxious man on a call | Source: Midjourney

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to scream because of how disappointed and frustrated I felt, but I replied, “Fine. I’ll just get a taxi.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled before hanging up.

My husband’s mother lived in a different city, so the chances of him getting back that same day to get me and the babies were unrealistic. Knowing how obsessed Derek was with his mother, he wasn’t going to leave her by herself, hence the taxi.

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

As the line went dead, my heart sank. I wanted to believe Derek wasn’t being callous, just overwhelmed and a mama’s boy. Still, the disappointment stung. The same mother-in-law (MIL) who insisted we make a separate set of keys to our house so she could help me with the babies was now suddenly unwell.

I tried shaking it off as I bundled the girls into their car seats that their father had dropped off the previous day and got us into a cab.

A woman in a cab with her children | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a cab with her children | Source: Midjourney

When we pulled into the driveway, I froze. My suitcases, diaper bags, and even the crib mattress were scattered across the front lawn and by the doorstep! A knot formed in my stomach. I paid the driver and stepped out with the twins, glancing around nervously. Something was obviously very wrong…

A messy front yard | Source: Midjourney

A messy front yard | Source: Midjourney

I approached the front door, fumbling with my keys while absentmindedly calling out my husband’s name, even though I knew he couldn’t be home yet. The key wouldn’t turn. Confused, I tried again. Nothing. Then I saw it, a folded piece of paper taped to a suitcase.

Get out of here with your little moochers! I know everything. Derek.

My breath caught, and my heart stopped. My hands trembled as I read the note again and again, trying to make sense of it while hoping it was a hallucination. This couldn’t be happening. Not Derek…

A shocked woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

Not the man who held my hand through every doctor’s appointment, who cried when we heard our daughters’ heartbeats for the first time. Then the worst part of that day began…

Wanting answers, I called him immediately. Straight to voicemail. Again. Voicemail. Panic set in as Sophie’s cries joined Ella’s. I rocked their car seats, forcing myself to think.

A stressed woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

A stressed woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

“Mom,” I whispered. My hands shook as I dialed her number.

“Jenna?” Mom answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong? Are the twins okay?”

I choked out the words, barely able to hold it together. I hadn’t wanted to involve my mother due to her ailing condition, but I believed this was one of those dire moments.

“Derek… He changed the locks. He threw my stuff outside. Mom, he left this awful note.”

“WHAT?!” Her voice shot up. “Stay there. I’m coming.”

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

Minutes felt like hours before she arrived. Mom took one look at the mess and narrowed her eyes, fuming.

“This doesn’t make sense! Derek wouldn’t do this; he loves you and the girls!”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, rocking Ella to calm her cries. “But he’s not answering. And what does ‘I know everything’ even mean?” I asked showing her the offensive note.

“I am so sorry, my darling,” she said while hugging me close. “Let’s go to my place until we can get a hold of your husband, okay?”

An older woman hugging a younger one | Source: Midjourney

An older woman hugging a younger one | Source: Midjourney

She helped me load the bags into her car and whisked us back to her place. After my mother and I dissected what had happened and repeatedly called Derek with no answer, my anxiety spiked. That night, I barely slept.

The next morning, I decided I needed answers. Leaving the twins with Mom, I drove back in her car to the house. The yard was empty, my belongings gone. I knocked on the door. No response. I walked around to the back, peering through the windows, and froze.

A shocked woman peaking through a window | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman peaking through a window | Source: Midjourney

Derek’s mother, Lorraine, sat at the dining table, sipping tea! I banged on the door, and she looked up, startled, almost spilling her tea before she saw me and smirked.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, banging on the door.

Lorraine rose leisurely and opened it just a crack. “Jenna. You’re not welcome here, didn’t you see the note?”

“Where’s Derek?” I snapped. “Why did he—”

“He’s at the hospital in my city,” she said smoothly. “Taking care of his sick mother.”

A nonchalant older woman standing by a door | Source: Midjourney

A nonchalant older woman standing by a door | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, disbelief washing over me. “Sick? You’re standing right here!”

She shrugged, her lips curling into a malicious smile. “Maybe I’m feeling better. Miracles happen.”

“You lied to him, didn’t you? You faked being sick!”

Her smile widened. “And?”

My hands balled into fists. “Why? Why would you do this?”

She crossed her arms, her smugness growing.

A smug older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smug older woman | Source: Midjourney

“I told Derek from the start that our family needs a boy to carry on the name. But you? You gave us two girls. Useless,” she confessed unapologetically, finally speaking her truth after all these years I’ve been with her son.

Her words knocked the air out of me. I was too stunned to speak, and she took my silence as permission to keep going.

“I knew you’d ruin my son’s life, so I took matters into my own hands. The note was a bit much, but I needed you to believe he wanted you gone. I even ensured he couldn’t call you by taking his phone right out of his pocket when he wasn’t looking. You were supposed to take your things and get out of our lives, but here you are…”

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t breathe. This woman had orchestrated everything, lied to her son, and got him to take her to the hospital under false pretenses before sneaking away, locked me out of my home, and stole his phone all because she disapproved of my daughters!

“You threw us out over that?”

“Of course,” she said, unbothered. “I even bribed a nurse at the hospital to keep him there. And it worked, didn’t it?”

I felt sick. “You’re deranged!”

“Call me what you want,” she sneered. “I call it protecting my family. Besides, my Derek always takes my side and will see things my way as usual.”

An arrogant older woman | Source: Midjourney

An arrogant older woman | Source: Midjourney

Her words echoed in my mind as I drove to the hospital where my husband was still waiting. With every mile, my anger grew. How could she justify such cruelty? My hands gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles white with fury.

I knew my MIL was mean, but I didn’t think she was evil! She never approved of my relationship or marriage to her son, always believing Derek deserved someone wealthier and fancier, unlike me.

An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney

When I reached the hospital, I found my husband pacing in the waiting room, his eyes shadowed with worry.

“Jenna!” he said, rushing toward me. “Where have you been? I don’t have my phone or know your number by heart, so I couldn’t call you!”

“Your mother took your phone,” I cut him off. “She faked her illness and locked me out of the house!”

He froze, confusion and anger flashing across his face. “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

A man at a hospital | Source: Midjourney

A man at a hospital | Source: Midjourney

“She set me up, wrote a fake note from you sending me away, and bribed a nurse to lie to you,” I said, my voice trembling. “Lorraine’s at our house, sipping tea like she’s the queen of the world!”

“Wait. What? Why would she…”

“Because our daughters aren’t boys,” I said bitterly.

The shock turned to rage on his face. Without saying a word, he grabbed his keys and stormed out, with me following close behind. When we got home, Lorraine was exactly where I’d left her, looking utterly unbothered.

An older woman having tea | Source: Midjourney

An older woman having tea | Source: Midjourney

But her smugness vanished when she saw the determined look on Derek’s face.

“Mom,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “What did you do? I thought you were in the hospital?”

She opened her mouth, likely to lie, but Derek cut her off. “Save it. I know everything.”

“Derek, I was just trying to—”

“You’ve done enough,” he snapped. “You made me abandon my wife and children for a fake emergency! Then you locked my wife, who just gave birth, and our newborn babies out of our home! On top of that, you cut our ability to communicate during such a crucial time by stealing my phone!”

An angry man shouting | Source: Midjourney

An angry man shouting | Source: Midjourney

“Derek, darling… I just wanted to keep you safe. This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” my MIL replied pleadingly.

“Keep me safe from my wife and children? Who told you I wanted boys? What makes you think my girls aren’t good enough for me just because of their gender? That’s a problem you have, not me, and if you want sons, I suggest you go make them yourself!”

I stood with my mouth agape, having never seen Derek this angry! I won’t lie, a part of me was proud that he was proving himself worthy of me by defending my and the children’s honor. At that moment, I loved him more than ever before!

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

“Pack your things and leave,” he demanded.

She gaped at him, tears forming. “You can’t mean that. I’m your mother!”

“And Jenna is my WIFE! Those are my daughters! If you can’t respect them, you’re not part of our lives!”

For once, Lorraine was speechless. She stormed upstairs to pack, slamming doors as she went. Derek turned to me, his eyes full of remorse.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t know.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tension easing just a little. “I just want us to move forward.”

A happy woman with her man | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman with her man | Source: Midjourney

Lorraine left that night. My husband apologized repeatedly, vowing to make things right. And he did. He changed the locks, blocked his mother’s number, and even reported the nurse who had taken the bribe!

It wasn’t easy, but for months we worked on rebuilding our life. One evening, as I rocked Ella and Sophie to sleep, I realized Lorraine had tried to destroy us but only managed to bring us closer together.

A happy couple with their twins | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple with their twins | Source: Midjourney

Sadly, Jenna isn’t the only daughter-in-law who has had to face a difficult MIL. In the following story, Michelle’s MIL surprises her and her husband with a DNA test for their son thinking it would finally break them up. But things didn’t play out in her favor, the way she imagined.

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.

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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