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 Husband Told Me I Am Half the Mom His Ex-wife Was – I Was Furious and Taught Him a Lesson

When George told Sylvia she was only half the mom his late wife was and wished SHE had died instead, her world shattered. But she didn’t break. In the face of his cruel words, Sylvia made a decision that would change everything and show just how powerful a mother’s love can be.

Hey everyone, Sylvia here. I’m about to tell you a story that’ll have you reaching for the tissues and wanting to throw things at the same time. Ever wondered how you’d react if your partner, the person you built a life with, looked you dead in the eye and said they wished YOU WERE DEAD instead of their ex-wife? Heartbreaking, right? Well, that’s exactly where I find myself…

Sylvia opens up about her heartbreaking story | Source: Pexels

Sylvia opens up about her heartbreaking story | Source: Pexels

It all started eight years ago when I married George. He had two incredible kids, Nick and Emma, from his first wife, Miranda, who tragically passed away in an accident when they were young.

We took things slow, dated for three years, and then tied the knot in a courthouse ceremony with just close family and friends. The kids were amazing to me from the get-go. I loved being their stepmom, and when I got pregnant with our son, Mason, I officially adopted them.

Sylvia adopts her husband's two adorable children | Source: Pexels

Sylvia adopts her husband’s two adorable children | Source: Pexels

Nick and Emma were the best. They doted on their new baby brother, and George seemed like the picture-perfect husband and dad.

I was on cloud nine. Every day, I thanked the universe for this beautiful family.

But then, like a cruel twist of fate, everything changed when I got pregnant again with our second child. George became a different person.

Sylvia is pregnant | Source: Unsplash

Sylvia is pregnant | Source: Unsplash

Late nights at work became the norm, and weekends were spent with his “friends.” I tried talking to him, but it was like talking to a brick wall.

He missed soccer games, Emma’s birthday parties, doctor appointments — basically, everything important. It felt like I was living with a ghost.

One day, I couldn’t take it anymore.

George starts acting distant, devoting more time to work and friends | Source: Pexels

George starts acting distant, devoting more time to work and friends | Source: Pexels

“George,” I confronted him. He didn’t even look up from his phone, just grunted a noncommittal response.

“We need to talk,” I pressed, my voice firming up. He sighed, finally setting his phone down with a clatter that echoed in the strained silence. His eyes, when they met mine, were distant… and cold.

“About what?” he drawled.

A heartbroken Sylvia confronts George | Source: Pexels

A heartbroken Sylvia confronts George | Source: Pexels

“About everything,” I said, my frustration bubbling over. “You’re never here, George. The kids barely see you, and when you are, you’re glued to that phone and your laptop.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh boy, here we go again. I work my fingers to the bone for this ungrateful family. Why do you have to keep nagging me like a broken record? Can’t a man have a little peace and quiet in his own home?”

George lashes out at poor Sylvia | Source: Pexels

George lashes out at poor Sylvia | Source: Pexels

“Providing isn’t just about money, George,” I countered. “It’s about being present, being a dad, being a husband.”

He slammed his fist on the table, making Mason flinch. “Don’t lecture me about being a husband! You wouldn’t understand!”

“Understand what, George?” I retorted.

George breaks Sylvia's heart | Source: Pexels

George breaks Sylvia’s heart | Source: Pexels

He glared at me, his face contorting with anger. “You wouldn’t understand the things I’ve sacrificed,” he spat. “You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

“Don’t you dare bring Miranda into this,” I shot back, my voice laced with hurt. “She’s not here, George. She’s gone!”

His face turned ashen. “Don’t you ever talk about her like that!” he roared, sending shivers down my spine.

George cautions Sylvia against bringing up his ex-wife in their conversation | Source: Pexels

George cautions Sylvia against bringing up his ex-wife in their conversation | Source: Pexels

“Don’t you see what you’re doing to us? We miss you, George. We need you,” I yelled back, tears welling in my eyes. “We want to be happy… like before.”

George looked at me, his eyes filled with a cold, bitter rage, and said, “Happy? With you? I wish Miranda was still alive. Hell, I wish you’d been the one who died instead! And you know what? Stop pretending you’re Nick and Emma’s real mom. YOU’RE ONLY HALF THE MOM MY LATE WIFE WAS! Do you understand?”

George's words stab Sylvia | Source: Pexels

George’s words stab Sylvia | Source: Pexels

My heart shattered into a million pieces. Can you even imagine the pain? It’s beyond anything words can capture.

Tears streamed down my face as I told him I couldn’t stay married to him after what he said.

But then, he said something that lit a fire in my soul.

George leaned back, crossing his arms with a condescending smirk. “Face it, Sylvia. You can’t handle this on your own. Without me, you’re LOST. The kids need stability, and you’re NOT CAPABLE of providing that.”

George's words cut deep into Sylvia's already shattered heart | Source: Pexels

George’s words cut deep into Sylvia’s already shattered heart | Source: Pexels

I felt my blood boil.

“Not capable? I’m the one who’s been there for them every single day while you’re off ‘working late’ and hanging out with your so-called friends. I’ve been the one keeping this family together, not you!”

His smirk faltered, but he tried to hold his ground. “You wouldn’t last a week without me.”

Sylvia stands her ground | Source: Pexels

Sylvia stands her ground | Source: Pexels

Well, let me tell you something — that was the biggest mistake he could’ve made. I wasn’t going to stay and be treated like some doormat.

I decided to teach him a lesson, one he wouldn’t forget for the rest of his life.

The next day, I packed a bag, not just for myself, but for the kids too. I wasn’t just leaving George; I was taking Nick, Emma, and Mason with me. He was at work, clueless about the storm brewing at home.

Sylvia packs her things and leaves the house with her three kids | Source: Pexels

Sylvia packs her things and leaves the house with her three kids | Source: Pexels

I dropped the kids off at my best friend Rosie’s place, explaining the whole situation. Rosie, bless her heart, was furious. She readily agreed to keep the kids safe while I dealt with things.

Then, with a steely resolve in my heart, I got into my car and headed straight for George’s office. I had a plan brewing, and it was time to put it into action.

I marched into George’s office. Ignoring the receptionist’s confused sputtering, I barged straight into his meeting, catching everyone off guard.

Sylvia rushes to George's office | Source: Pexels

Sylvia rushes to George’s office | Source: Pexels

George’s face drained of color when he saw me. Before he could utter a word, I launched into a tirade and exposed him.

“You think I’m half the mom your ex-wife ever was?” I yelled. “Well, guess what, George? I’m taking the kids. You don’t deserve them!”

Sylvia yells at George and exposes him | Source: Pexels

Sylvia yells at George and exposes him | Source: Pexels

The room erupted in gasps. George’s face flushed crimson.

He lunged for me, but I was quicker, pulling away with a piercing glare. “Here’s the custody agreement,” I spat, shoving a thick folder into his chest. “I’m going for full custody, and after what you said, I think the judge will agree with me.”

Panic flickered across his face. “Y-You can’t do this,” he stammered. “You have no right.”

George starts to panic | Source: Pexels

George starts to panic | Source: Pexels

A cold anger settled over me.

“Oh, but I do,” I countered. “I’ve been a real mother to Nick and Emma, something you haven’t. And Mason? He deserves better than a father who compares his own wife to a ghost.”

Leaving him sputtering justifications to his bewildered colleagues, I stormed out, the weight of everyone’s stares burning into my back.

But I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting my kids away from him.

Sylvia's outburst leaves George utterly shaken | Source: Pexels

Sylvia’s outburst leaves George utterly shaken | Source: Pexels

My next stop was the kids’ school. The principal, a kind woman with eyes that held a lifetime of stories, listened patiently as I explained the situation.

Pulling out the custody papers, I felt a sliver of hope pierce through the fog of hurt. The principal, thankfully, was understanding.

“We’ll keep an eye on the kids,” she promised, her voice warm. “We’ll reach out if George tries anything.”

The principal assures Sylvia about watching over the kids | Source: Pexels

The principal assures Sylvia about watching over the kids | Source: Pexels

Hours later, I picked up my precious cargo, my kids, from Rosie’s haven. Relief flooded me as their faces lit up. We drove to the small apartment I’d secretly rented that very morning.

During dinner, Mason (now 6) bombarded me with questions about his dad. Emma, my little ball of sunshine, clung to me tighter while Nick simply stood there.

“Mommy, where’s Daddy? Why aren’t we going home?” Mason choked out, his big brown eyes welling with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment.

Mason asks Sylvia about his daddy | Source: Pexels

Mason asks Sylvia about his daddy | Source: Pexels

I took a deep breath, my heart breaking. “Mason, Nick, Emma, listen to me,” I said softly, pulling them close. “Things are going to be different for a while. Your father and I… we’re not getting along right now, and it’s best for us to stay somewhere else for a bit.”

Emma’s grip tightened, her small body trembling. “But why, Mommy? Why can’t we just go back?”

Emma misses her daddy and wants to go home | Source: Pexels

Emma misses her daddy and wants to go home | Source: Pexels

Tears welled up in my eyes as I kissed her forehead. “I know it’s hard, sweetheart. I know. But sometimes grown-ups have to make tough decisions to keep everyone safe and happy. I promise you, we’re going to be okay.”

“Is it because of us? Did we do something wrong?” Nick chimed in, his eyes glistening with tears.

My heart shattered. “No, honey, this is not because of you or Emma or Mason. You kids are perfect. This is between Dad and me. I love you both so much. We’re going to be okay.”

Nick is upset and asks Sylvia if they're away from daddy because of him and his siblings | Source: Pixabay

Nick is upset and asks Sylvia if they’re away from daddy because of him and his siblings | Source: Pixabay

Their small nods and tear-streaked faces gave me the strength I needed.

Days bled into weeks. The legal battle, while draining, became a strange source of strength. George’s past behavior boomeranged on him.

His colleagues, the very people who witnessed my public humiliation, became my unlikely allies. Their testimonies painted a damning picture of a selfish, self-absorbed man.

George's colleagues testify against him | Source: Pexels

George’s colleagues testify against him | Source: Pexels

In the end, the judge awarded me full custody, with George granted supervised visits.

Just when I thought the worst was over, another bombshell dropped. A woman named Linda, heavily pregnant, appeared on my doorstep one day, her eyes red-rimmed and her voice trembling.

“Are you Sylvia?” she asked shakily.

A heavily pregnant woman arrives outside Sylvia's house | Source: Midjourney

A heavily pregnant woman arrives outside Sylvia’s house | Source: Midjourney

Hesitantly, I cracked the door open just a fraction. “Can I help you?” I asked cautiously.

“I’m Linda,” she said, looking down. “I’m George’s lover. I’m pregnant with his child.”

I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. “You’re what??”

She nodded, tears spilling over. “He told me he was single. I had no idea about you, about your family. I’m so sorry.”

Sylvia is stunned when the woman reveals her identity | Source: Midjourney

Sylvia is stunned when the woman reveals her identity | Source: Midjourney

A cold dread washed over me.

George? He… he had an affair?

What more could there possibly be hidden from me? Against every instinct screaming at me to slam the door shut, I found myself stepping aside and letting her in.

The jolting truth about the man she once loved and shared her life with leaves Sylvia stunned | Source: Pexels

The jolting truth about the man she once loved and shared her life with leaves Sylvia stunned | Source: Pexels

Linda sank onto the nearest chair, her body wracked with silent sobs. As she poured out her story, a shocking truth unfolded. She, too, had been involved with George, a victim of his lies and deceit.

A strange sense of empathy bloomed in my chest. Here was another woman, her life shattered by the same man who had so thoroughly broken mine.

Linda tearfully reveals the truth | Source: Pexels

Linda tearfully reveals the truth | Source: Pexels

In a turn of events that still boggles my mind, Linda and I formed an unlikely alliance. We exposed George’s web of deceit, stripping him bare before everyone.

He lost his job, his reputation, and any semblance of control over our lives.

George loses his job, reputation, and everything he once controlled | Source: Pixabay

George loses his job, reputation, and everything he once controlled | Source: Pixabay

Fast forward to months now, the journey hasn’t been easy.

Picking up the pieces of my broken heart was a long and arduous process. But with Nick, Emma, Mason, and my newborn baby by my side, I found the strength to rise above the ashes.

George’s ghost still haunts me at times, a painful reminder of his betrayal. But as I look at my children, their smiles radiating pure joy, the pain recedes, replaced by an unwavering love and a fierce determination to protect them from the world’s harsh realities.

Sylvia is slowly healing, thanks to her wonderful kids and the new path fate has shown her | Source: Pexels

Sylvia is slowly healing, thanks to her wonderful kids and the new path fate has shown her | Source: Pexels

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