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

My Colleague Suggested We Buy a Joint $2,000 Gift for Our Boss and Now Refuses to Pay Her Share

Rachel reluctantly agrees to buy a $2,000 watch for their boss after her colleague Emily promises to split the cost. But when Emily refuses to pay her share, Rachel is left struggling with the unexpected financial burden. Determined to teach Emily a lesson, Rachel devises a clever plan to expose her deceit. But will she succeed in bringing Emily’s dishonesty to light?

“That’s a lot of money, Emily,” I sighed, stirring my coffee slowly.

A person stirring coffee | Source: Pexels

A person stirring coffee | Source: Pexels

“Oh, come on, Rachel,” she said, sitting across from me. “Think about it! A $1,600 watch for Mr. Johnson’s birthday would show our dedication. Plus, I’m sure he’ll love the customized engraving. Oh, and with that, the total would be $2,000.”

I took a sip of my coffee, trying to buy some time. “It’s just… that’s a huge expense. Are you sure about this?” I asked.

A woman sipping coffee | Source: Pexels

A woman sipping coffee | Source: Pexels

“Absolutely!” she replied, nodding eagerly. “Trust me, Rachel. It will be perfect. And don’t worry about the cost. We’ll split it, and I promise to pay my half as soon as possible.”

I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I liked Emily, despite her reputation for sucking up to management. She’s always the one staying late, bringing coffee, and organizing events. But this whole watch idea seemed too much, even for her.

A man wearing a watch | Source: Unsplash

A man wearing a watch | Source: Unsplash

“Emily, I don’t know. I have bills to pay, and $2,000 is a lot for me right now,” I said, hoping she’d understand.

“Rachel, this is an investment in our future here,” she insisted, trying to convince me. “Imagine the impression we’ll make! Mr. Johnson will remember this forever, and it could really boost our standing in the company.”

A smiling woman chatting with her colleague | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman chatting with her colleague | Source: Pexels

I sighed again. Emily always had a way of making things sound so simple and beneficial.

“Alright,” I said reluctantly, finally giving in. “Let’s get the watch. But please don’t forget what you’ve promised.”

“Of course, Rachel,” she said. “He’ll love the gift!”

A man in a suit with his arms folded | Source: Pexels

A man in a suit with his arms folded | Source: Pexels

Soon, Mr. Johnson’s birthday arrived.

Emily had everything meticulously planned.

She walked into his office first, and I followed, holding my breath.

A man holding a pen and pointing at a monitor | Source: Pexels

A man holding a pen and pointing at a monitor | Source: Pexels

“Mr. Johnson!” she exclaimed, standing beside his desk. “We have a special surprise for you!”

Mr. Johnson looked up from his paperwork, clearly curious.

Emily handed him the elegantly wrapped box, her eyes shining with pride. “This was our idea,” she said, “but I really pushed for it because I knew it was perfect for you.”

A person holding a gift in their hands | Source: Unsplash

A person holding a gift in their hands | Source: Unsplash

I stood there, smiling awkwardly. Emily opened the box to reveal the watch, and Mr. Johnson’s eyes widened in surprise.

“This is incredible. You really didn’t need to!” he said, examining the watch. “Thank you so much. This is really thoughtful.”

A watch on a man's wrist | Source: Unsplash

A watch on a man’s wrist | Source: Unsplash

Emily beamed, soaking in his praise. I forced a smile, feeling a pang of regret. I had hoped this gift would be a gesture of teamwork, but it quickly became Emily’s solo performance.

She kept talking about how she had put extra effort into getting the gift for him, which made me realize I had spent a thousand dollars for nothing more than a front-row seat to Emily’s self-promotion.

A young woman talking to an older man | Source: Midjourney

A young woman talking to an older man | Source: Midjourney

“This is wonderful, Emily. Thank you again,” Mr. Johnson said.

Emily turned to me with a triumphant grin. “See, Rachel? I told you he’d love it.”

I managed a weak smile. “Yeah, he really does,” I said.

A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney

A week passed, but I didn’t hear anything from Emily about her share.

One day, I found her in the break room, chatting away with another colleague. I waited until she was alone before approaching her.

“Hey, Emily,” I started calmly. “I… I just wanted to remind you about your share of the cost of Mr. Johnson’s watch. I have some expenses, and I really need that money right now.”

Two women chatting at workplace | Source: Freepik

Two women chatting at workplace | Source: Freepik

Emily looked up at me with a condescending smile. “Oh, sweetie, I thought you were just helping out. I never intended to pay. Besides, you earn more than I do, don’t you? Consider it a charitable act.”

“WHAT?” I stared at her, stunned. “What do you mean? You… weren’t you supposed to pay your share?”

A smiling woman talking to her co-worker | Source: Freepik

A smiling woman talking to her co-worker | Source: Freepik

“Look, life isn’t fair, Rachel,” she shrugged. “You wanted to make a good impression, and we did. Didn’t you see how happy Mr. Johnson was? Isn’t that worth it?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Her selfishness was astounding. “That’s not the point, Emily,” I said, my voice rising. “You promised to pay your half!”

A stern-looking woman | Source: Pexels

A stern-looking woman | Source: Pexels

She laughed. “Oh, Rachel, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Let it go,” she said and walked away.

I stared at her, anger and frustration bubbling up inside me. Clearly, she had no intention of paying and didn’t care about the impact on me.

So I made up my mind. It was time for some payback.

A confident woman | Source: Pexels

A confident woman | Source: Pexels

Two days later, I looked into Emily’s schedule and discovered she had a big presentation for the upcoming quarterly meeting. This was crucial for her, and I saw an opportunity.

I began subtly mentioning to a few trusted colleagues that Emily might need ‘help’ with her presentation.

A woman giving a presentation | Source: Pexels

A woman giving a presentation | Source: Pexels

Word spread quickly, and soon everyone offered her ‘suggestions’ and ‘feedback.’ The result? The conflicting advice overwhelmed her, and I could see her becoming more stressed. She did manage to give the presentation, but it was a huge mess.

I wasn’t done yet, though.

A sad-looking young woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad-looking young woman | Source: Midjourney

One day, while having lunch in the break room, I overheard Emily bragging about a meeting with a potential big client. She sat at the table, surrounded by a few colleagues, her voice full of confidence.

“This client is huge,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “If I close this deal, I’m sure to get a promotion. Mr. Johnson will be so impressed.”

Co-workers around a table | Source: Pexels

Co-workers around a table | Source: Pexels

I listened quietly, my mind already plotting. After lunch, I returned to my desk and found the client’s contact information.

I crafted an anonymous email, attaching screenshots of Emily’s rude social media comments.

A person using their laptop | Source: Unsplash

A person using their laptop | Source: Unsplash

“I felt it was important to inform you about some unethical behavior by Ms. Richards who is scheduled to meet with you,” I wrote in the mail to the client. “Please see the attached screenshots of her social media posts, which include rude and unprofessional comments.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Individual.”

A Gmail screen | Source: Unsplash

A Gmail screen | Source: Unsplash

A few days later, Emily’s face was pale as she entered the office.

“The client canceled the meeting,” she told a colleague. “They said it was due to ‘unforeseen circumstances.’ I don’t know what went wrong!”

A stressed woman | Source: Pexels

A stressed woman | Source: Pexels

“I’m sorry to hear that, Emily,” the colleague replied. “That must be tough.”

Emily sighed and walked away, clearly distressed. Only I knew how hard it was to contain my laugh. But even after going through so much, Emily wouldn’t mend her ways.

A laughing woman at workplace | Source: Unsplash

A laughing woman at workplace | Source: Unsplash

She started spreading rumors that she had single-handedly bought the watch for Mr. Johnson. Had she guessed I was behind her canceled meeting and failed presentation? I didn’t know. But I wouldn’t let her succeed.

So, I printed out our email exchange where she promised to pay her half and placed copies on the desks of key people in our department, including HR. The next day, whispers filled the office as people read the emails.

A woman using a printer | Source: Pexels

A woman using a printer | Source: Pexels

“Can you believe this?” one colleague said, showing the email to another. “Emily promised to pay her half for the watch.”

“Unbelievable,” the other replied. “She’s been taking all the credit.”

Emily’s popularity plummeted, and she looked more stressed than ever. I decided to take it one step further.

A stressed woman at work | Source: Pexels

A stressed woman at work | Source: Pexels

Creating a fake online persona as a headhunter from a prestigious company, I sent Emily a message.

“To: [email protected]

Subject: Exciting Job Opportunity

Dear Ms. Richards,” I typed.

A person typing on their laptop | Source: Unsplash

A person typing on their laptop | Source: Unsplash

“We have been following your impressive work and would love to discuss a potential job opportunity with you at our prestigious firm. We believe you would be a perfect fit for our team. Please let us know if you are available for an interview this Thursday at 10 AM.

Best regards,

Linda J.

Executive Recruiter, El.T.Search.”

An excited female employee | Source: Midjourney

An excited female employee | Source: Midjourney

Emily’s eyes lit up as she read the email. She ran over to the desk beside me, her excitement barely contained.

“You won’t believe this! I just got an email from a top headhunter. They want to interview me for a high-level position!”

“That’s amazing, Emily!” Stacey, my co-worker, said. “You should definitely go for it.”

A smiling woman chatting with her co-worker | Source: Freepik

A smiling woman chatting with her co-worker | Source: Freepik

Emily called in sick on the day of the fake interview, completely convinced it was real. She dressed in her best business attire and left the house early to be there on time.

The next day, she returned to the office and I overheard her talking to Stacey. “There was no interview,” she said sadly. “I showed up, and no one knew who I was.”

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

“That’s so strange, Emily. Maybe it was some sort of mistake?”

Emily nodded slowly, still in shock. “Maybe…”

Hardly had she finished talking when Mr. Johnson approached her.

“Emily, we need to talk. Please come into my office,” he said sternly.

A serious-looking man in a suit | Source: Pexels

A serious-looking man in a suit | Source: Pexels

Emily’s confidence visibly shook. She followed him, her face pale. I stayed at my desk, straining to hear the conversation from behind my computer.

“Emily, I’ve received some concerning information,” Mr. Johnson began, his tone firm. “Can you explain why our client canceled their meeting with you?”

An older man in professional attire | Source: Midjourney

An older man in professional attire | Source: Midjourney

“I-I don’t know, sir. They said it was due to unforeseen circumstances.”

Mr. Johnson raised an eyebrow. “Unforeseen circumstances? Or could it be because they received an email with screenshots of your unprofessional social media comments?”

A female employee talking to her boss | Source: Midjourney

A female employee talking to her boss | Source: Midjourney

Emily gasped. “What? No, I… I didn’t think… I mean, those were private posts!” she gasped, staring at a tablet screen. Maybe Mr. Johnson was showing her the mail.

“They may have been, but they reflect poorly on you and this company,” Mr. Johnson said sharply. “And there’s more. I’ve been hearing rumors that you claimed to have bought the watch for me single-handedly. Is that true?”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

Emily’s face turned pale. Her silence said it was true.

“Emily, this behavior is unacceptable. You’ve been manipulating situations and lying to your colleagues. This ends now. You are being demoted, effective immediately. One more misstep and you will be terminated!” Mr. Johnson declared.

A box labelled "FIRED" | Source: Pexels

A box labelled “FIRED” | Source: Pexels

Emily emerged from the office, looking defeated. That same day, in a team meeting, Mr. Johnson took off the expensive watch and held it up for everyone to see.

“This gift was meant to symbolize teamwork and appreciation,” he began, “but given the circumstances, I think it’s only fair to return it.”

A happy boss and employee | Source: Midjourney

A happy boss and employee | Source: Midjourney

He then walked over to me and handed me the watch. “I believe this was more of your contribution. Please, you keep it,” he said.

Emily turned beet red as everyone watched. Her scheme had backfired spectacularly, and my efforts to expose her had paid off.

And that was how I got my ultimate petty revenge on a two-faced colleague.

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

What would you have done?

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