I planned our family vacation, hoping it would be a chance to bond with my husband and son. Instead, it led me to a betrayal that turned our perfect getaway into a nightmare. What happened there was something I’ll never forget.
Family vacations are supposed to bring you closer together, right? At least, that’s what I’d always believed.
But this time, what started as a cherished family tradition became the worst time of my life.
A woman at the beach | Source: Midjourney
Being a working mom has never been easy, but I’ve always prided myself on finding the balance between career and family.
My job keeps me so busy that I sometimes arrive home long after dinner has been eaten and the lights have been dimmed.
Despite that, I’ve always ensured my family had everything they needed.
A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney
My husband, Mark, also used to have a steady job, but things changed when he got laid off a couple of years ago. He picked up odd jobs here and there, contributing what he could, but the bulk of our household expenses landed squarely on my shoulders.
Honestly, I didn’t mind. That’s what you do for your family, right?
But lately, I’d started noticing the cracks.
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
My job left me with less time to connect with Mark because he’d already be asleep by the time I got home, making me feel we were growing apart.
However, I didn’t think much about it. I thought we’d reconnect on our annual vacation.
Our annual vacation is a tradition we’ve kept alive through the years. No matter how tough things got financially, we always set aside time to escape for a few days together.
A couple holding their bags | Source: Pexels
It was something I cherished because I saw it as a chance to reconnect as a family and make memories that would last a lifetime.
This year, I wanted the trip to be extra special. Especially because lately, Mark had been struggling to find a decent job. I thought this would cheer him up.
“We need this,” I told Mark one evening after a particularly grueling day at work. “A few days away from everything, just the three of us.”
“But I don’t have a job, and—”
“No buts,” I said. “I’ll take care of everything. And I’m sure you’ll land a job when you return from the trip with a fresh mind. Don’t worry, okay?”
“Okay,” he smiled. “Thank you for all that you do for us. I’m sure Eric will love the trip too.”
A man sitting in his house | Source: Midjourney
Our son, Eric, is 20 and in college. Like most kids his age, he’s absorbed in his world of parties, friends, and social media. But when I called him to share our vacation plans, he sounded genuinely excited.
“Yeah, Mom, I’m in!” he exclaimed. “Can’t wait to spend time with you guys.”
It warmed my heart to hear that.
A day later, though, Eric called me back with a request. “Mom, would it be okay if I brought my girlfriend along?”
His girlfriend? That was news to me.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Uh, I guess so,” I said hesitantly. “What’s her name?”
“Jessica,” he said. “She’s great. You’ll love her.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the idea. Our vacations had always been just the three of us, and adding a new person, someone I’d never met, felt strange. But Eric seemed so excited, and I didn’t want to dampen his enthusiasm. He told me he’d been seeing her for three months now.
“Alright,” I said finally. “She’s welcome to join us.”
As the trip approached, I threw myself into planning. I wanted everything to be perfect.
A woman writing in her diary | Source: Pexels
Little did I know, this vacation wouldn’t be about bonding or relaxation. It would turn out to be one of my worst nightmares.
Jessica joined us at the airport, looking like she had just stepped out of a magazine. Her sleek outfit, perfectly styled hair, and radiant smile immediately caught everyone’s attention, including Mark’s.
He seemed particularly charmed by her, pulling her suitcase and even complimenting her choice of shoes. I brushed it off as politeness.
After all, she was Eric’s girlfriend. What was there to worry about?
A young woman | Source: Midjourney
At first, Jessica seemed nice, but soon, little things started to feel weird.
Over dinner on our first night, I thought I’d try bonding with her.
“Jessica, have you had a chance to see Eric play basketball yet?” I asked.
Her eyes widened, and she hesitated before replying, “Basketball? We’ve never talked about that.”
My eyebrows shot up. Basketball had been Eric’s passion for years. His social media was plastered with team photos and game highlights. How could his girlfriend of three months not know that?
I glanced at Eric, who was busy texting and didn’t notice.
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The next day, Eric suggested we all try jet-skiing. His face lit up as he described how much fun it would be, but Jessica frowned.
“I’m not really into water sports,” she said.
Wait… did Eric not know that already? I thought. That’s strange.
At that point, Eric’s excitement dimmed, but he quickly recovered and suggested we should go sightseeing instead.
Later, while everyone relaxed by the pool, I overheard Jessica asking Eric about his major.
“Biology, right?” she said with a giggle. “I can’t believe I keep forgetting that!”
A young woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
My heart skipped a beat. What was going on here?
This young woman who claimed to be my son’s girlfriend had no idea about his passion for basketball. She didn’t know his major. And she didn’t even seem particularly interested in learning. And Eric? He was doting on her constantly, getting her drinks, carrying her bag, and even taking over the sun lounger she didn’t like.
Calm down, Colleen, I told myself. Don’t overthink. Relationships are complicated, and maybe Jessica just needed more time to connect with Eric.
Still, something didn’t sit right.
A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney
Midway through the trip, I was looking for sunscreen in Eric’s suitcase when I stumbled upon a small velvet box. Curious, I opened it to find a stunning diamond necklace.
It looked SUPER EXPENSIVE, and I couldn’t believe my son had bought something so elegant for his girlfriend.
How did Eric manage to save up for it? I thought.
Later that evening, I brought it up casually.
“Eric, I found the necklace in your suitcase,” I smiled. “It’s beautiful, and I’m sure Jessica’s going to love it.”
A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney
He looked at me with wide eyes as if I’d said something I wasn’t supposed to say.
“Yeah, I-I,” he stammered. “I’ve been saving for a while. I, uh, I really liked it and I thought I’d get it for her. After all, she deserves it.”
“That’s amazing!” I faked a smile. “I’m so proud of you!”
I wasn’t ready to believe that my son, a college student on a tight budget, could afford something so extravagant. I decided not to press him, but my gut told me there was more to this necklace than he was letting on.
A silver pendant with diamonds | Source: Pexels
Jessica’s indifference to Eric’s life, her lack of genuine interest, and now this mystery necklace? Things weren’t adding up.
On the final morning of our trip, the hotel was quiet. Mark was having breakfast downstairs, and Eric and Jessica were lounging by the pool.
I stayed in the suite, sipping coffee and trying not to overanalyze the situation.
That’s when Eric’s phone, left charging on the counter, buzzed with a notification.
It was a text. I glanced at it absentmindedly, but my eyes widened when I read it.
A phone on a table | Source: Pexels
It read, +$500 to our deal. Thanks for covering up for me with the necklace.
The sender? Mark. My husband.
My stomach dropped as my mind tried to connect the dots. I immediately grabbed Eric’s phone and entered the passcode (I knew it because I’d watched him unlock his phone once).
I knew it wasn’t right to invade his privacy, but something told me I had to see more.
The message thread unraveled a web of betrayal I couldn’t have imagined.
A woman reading messages on her son’s phone | Source: Pexels
Mark and Eric had been plotting for weeks, and Jessica wasn’t Eric’s girlfriend. She was Mark’s mistress.
Eric had been pretending to date her as a cover so Mark could bring her on the trip without arousing my suspicion. The “deal” they had struck involved money Mark had promised Eric in exchange for his silence. And the necklace? Mark had paid for it with my money.
I stared at the screen as dozens of questions popped into my mind.
A woman looking at her son’s phone | Source: Midjourney
How could Mark do this to me? And Eric? Why did he go along with it? They thought they could betray me like this?
I was angry. I was heartbroken.
But I knew I couldn’t let this slide.
That evening, I called everyone to dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. I dressed carefully, choosing a nice dress and pairing it with the diamond necklace my husband had bought for his mistress.
I wanted to look composed and strong, even if I felt like falling apart inside.
A woman wearing a necklace | Source: Midjourney
When I walked into the restaurant, they turned to look at me. Jessica’s eyes lit up, but her smile faded when she realized I was wearing her necklace.
“Mom, why are you wearing Jessica’s necklace?” Eric asked. “That’s her gift.”
“Oh, really?” I chuckled. “That’s odd. Because your dad bought it with MY MONEY.”
Mark’s face turned pale.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” he stammered. “What—”
A man sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Stop pretending, Mark,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Then, I turned to Jessica. “I don’t know what my husband has told you, but he’s currently unemployed. He got laid off years ago, and since then, he’s been struggling to find a decent job.”
“But, I—”
“Shh!” I cut her off. “Let me finish. You see, I’ve been paying for everything ever since he lost his job. Everything including this trip, the necklace, and even the money he promised Eric to play along with this charade.”
“Mom, I didn’t mean to… I mean—” Eric began.
A young man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“I never thought my son could do something like this,” I glanced at Eric as tears streamed down my cheeks. “I had no idea I was paying my own son to lie to me.”
That was the last thing I said to the three of them. I stood up and walked back to my room.
The next day, I flew home alone. Eric and Mark kept calling me, but I refused to answer any of their calls.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
A week later, I filed for divorce. Jessica vanished when she realized Mark had no money, leaving him humiliated and alone.
As for Eric, we’re working on rebuilding our relationship. He made a mistake, but he’s still my son, and I’m hoping he won’t do anything like this again. I guess he just wanted some money and didn’t really care what his father wanted him to do. I pray he grows up and understands what Mark did that day was totally unacceptable.
I hope Eric never follows in his father’s footsteps.
To Save My Father, I Pretended to Be a Stranger’s Fiancée, But I Never Expected to Fall for the Wrong Brother — Story of the Day
I was drowning in hospital bills when a stranger in a suit offered me a deal: pretend to be his fiancée, and he’d save my father’s life. I had no choice but to say yes. Then I met his brother…
The day started like any other, but by noon, my entire world had collapsed.
My phone buzzed just as I was locking my apartment door. I almost didn’t answer: spam calls had been relentless lately, but something made me pick up.
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“Miss Carter?” The voice was calm and professional. “This is Dr. Reynolds. I’m calling about your father.”
“Is he okay?” My voice cracked on the last word.
There was a pause, a measured breath. “His condition has worsened. He needs surgery immediately. Without it… his chances are low.”
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I pressed my back against the doorframe, gripping the phone so hard my fingers ached.
“How much?”
The number crashed over me like a tidal wave. Too high. Impossible. I barely heard anything after that.
I just murmured a weak “I’ll figure it out” before ending the call.
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But I had nothing. No savings. No family to ask for help. Just a café job that barely covered rent.
By the time I arrived at work, my chest felt hollow. I barely noticed the smell of coffee beans or the familiar chime of the bell as I pushed through the door. I made a beeline for my manager.
“Lisa, I… I need an advance. Please. Anything you can spare.”
Lisa’s face softened, but her hands twisted nervously.
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“Sophie, I wish I could do more. Two months’ salary is the best I can offer.”
It wasn’t enough. But I forced a nod, blinking hard.
“Thank you. I… I appreciate it.”
The weight in my chest only grew heavier. Two months’ salary wasn’t nearly enough. It wouldn’t even cover half of what I needed.
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I blinked hard, willing the sting behind my eyes to disappear. Crying wouldn’t fix anything. Exhaling shakily, I turned back toward the café floor. And that’s when I felt it.
Someone was watching me.
The sensation crawled up my spine, a quiet, lingering gaze that felt too deliberate to ignore. I glanced up. A man sat near the window, his eyes locked onto me.
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He wasn’t pretending to skim a menu or glance around absentmindedly. He was watching. Listening.
The café wasn’t loud. My conversation with Lisa hadn’t been a whisper. He must have caught every desperate word. Heat rushed to my cheeks.
Who is he?
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For months, another man always sat in that spot. We had never spoken beyond polite exchanges, but I noticed him. He never rushed, never buried himself in his phone, never seemed in a hurry to leave.
He always ordered the same thing. Black coffee. No sugar. No cream.
I even started adding an extra cookie to his plate. He never said anything, never questioned it, but he always smiled before leaving.
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And I had foolishly imagined, just once, that maybe one day he’d do more than smile.
But that day, he wasn’t there. Instead, a different man sat in his place.
Older. Sharper. Dressed in a suit that radiated quiet authority. He stirred his coffee with slow, deliberate movements, his gaze flicking toward me before shifting away.
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I forced myself to move, to pretend I hadn’t noticed. But my stomach twisted.
I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know what he wanted.
And I had no idea that by the end of the night, he would change everything.
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***
Later that evening, I walked home, my body aching from the long shift, my mind tangled in numbers, hospital bills, and the crushing weight of impossibility. I barely noticed the cold creeping through my thin jacket or the flickering streetlights overhead.
I just kept walking. The streets were quiet, the usual city hum softened by the late hour.
Then, a car slowed beside me.
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I stiffened, gripping my bag a little tighter. The tinted window rolled down, and a deep, controlled voice called my name.
“Sophie.”
I froze mid-step.
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It was him. The man from the café. The one who had taken the seat of my regular customer that day—the one I always brought an extra cookie to.
Every instinct screamed at me, “Keep walking! Ignore him. This is how true crime documentaries start.”
But something about his tone made me pause. It wasn’t commanding. It wasn’t threatening. It was… certain.
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“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. “I just want to talk.”
I turned, keeping a cautious distance. “Who are you?”
“Steven.”
He leaned slightly toward the open window, his dark eyes sharp, assessing.
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“Get in. I’ll explain everything.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
His lips twitched.
“Fair enough.”
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He exhaled, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “Then I’ll talk here.”
“I’m listening.”
His gaze met mine.
“My father is handing over control of our family business soon. But there’s a condition—he wants to see me as a settled man. Stable. Engaged.”
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“And that affects me how?”
Steven studied me for a moment. Then, with a quiet certainty, he said, “Because I need a fiancée.”
I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
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He let the silence stretch just long enough before adding, “And you need money. I heard you talking to your manager.”
My fingers curled into fists. “You were listening?”
“I see an opportunity, I take it. You need money. I need a fiancée. It’s simple.”
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Simple. Right. Except nothing about this feels simple at all.
“You… want me to pretend to be your fiancée?”
“A few weeks. Public appearances. My father believes I’ve finally settled down, and in return… I’ll pay for your father’s surgery.”
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I could refuse. Walk away. Pretend this conversation never happened. But then what? My father would suffer. His condition would worsen.
I didn’t remember saying yes. But an hour later, I was in a dressing room, surrounded by silk dresses and designer heels, staring at a reflection I didn’t recognize.
The girl in the mirror looked polished. Elegant. Someone who belonged in Steven’s world.
I wasn’t that girl. But for the following few weeks… I would have to be.
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***
Steven’s father’s birthday came. It was our grand debut as a couple.
The mansion was breathtaking. It wasn’t just big, the kind of place you saw in magazines, the kind of house that didn’t feel real.
A live band played soft jazz in the background, and waiters in crisp black uniforms weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne.
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I kept my shoulders back, my posture perfect, just as Steven had instructed. Every movement mattered. Every glance, every smile. We were on display.
Steven played his part flawlessly. He smiled at all the right moments and whispered small reassurances whenever I hesitated.
“Relax,” he murmured in my ear as we walked further into the room. “You look perfect.”
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His father, a tall, commanding man approached us. His sharp eyes scanned me from head to toe.
“Father,” Steven said smoothly. “This is Sophie.”
“Ah, so this is the young woman you’ve been hiding from us,” his father said, his voice rich with skepticism. “Lovely.”
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And then I saw him. My regular. The man whose absence I had felt that very morning. The one I had secretly admired for months without knowing his name.
But finally, I did. Steven’s father introduced him with a proud smile.
Oliver. Steven’s brother.
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His gaze locked onto mine, and I knew instantly—he recognized me too. He didn’t approach right away. He waited. He watched. And then, when the moment was just right, he made his move.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he said casually, stepping closer.
“Oliver…”
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“You know, I’ve spent months trying to work up the nerve to ask you out. But it turns out I didn’t need to. My brother beat me to it.”
“I…”
“I came to that café every morning just to see you,” he continued, ignoring my attempt to speak. “I thought maybe one day, I’d stop being a coward and say something. But I never did.”
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He let out a quiet laugh. “Instead, I followed you home a few times. Not in a creepy way…”
“Oliver.”
“…just because I couldn’t find the right words.”
I could tell him the truth. I could explain everything and end the lie before it spiraled any further.
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But then my father’s face flashed in my mind. The hospital. The money.
I turned away, slipped my hand into Steven’s, and leaned up to kiss him.
The first time a lie had ever tasted so bitter.
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***
The next morning, Steven placed a check in front of me.
“Here.”
I stared at the paper. The amount was more than enough to cover my father’s surgery and keep him comfortable for months. My hands trembled as I picked it up. But instead of relief, all I felt was emptiness.
“You are playing your part well. Maybe we should continue this… see if there’s something real between us.”
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I set the check back on the table.
“I can’t. I thought I could pretend, but even one more day would be unbearable. The truth is… from the very beginning, I’ve been in love with your brother.”
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For a moment, Steven said nothing. His jaw tightened, his fingers tapping against the table. I braced for anger, accusations, something. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm.
“I can’t keep you here. Thank you for the evening.”
His eyes flicked to the check on the table before he pocketed it without a word. Then, without another glance, he walked out, leaving me alone.
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***
The following night, just as I was locking up the café, the door opened.
Oliver! He stepped forward, holding something out.
“Take it,” he said, pressing the paycheck into my hands. “Even if we never see each other again. I want to help your father.”
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He knew. Steven must have told him everything.
“Oliver, I…”
“You didn’t have to lie,” he interrupted gently. “You could’ve just asked. I would have helped. No deals. No charades.”
Tears burned at the back of my eyes. I looked down at the check, then back at him.
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“I was always happy when you came to the café. I used to put an extra cookie on your plate, hoping you’d notice.”
“I noticed.”
“I made a desperate choice. I just wanted to help my father…”
“You don’t have to explain. Steven realized his mistake because of how honest you were. And because of that, I get to be here with you now.”
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The burden of guilt, of fear, of uncertainty, it wasn’t all gone, but it was lighter. Oliver glanced at the check in my hands, then back at me.
“Come on. Let’s go to the hospital and talk to the doctor about your dad’s treatment.”
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of everything settle into something new. Something right. I nodded, letting him take my hand. That time, I wasn’t walking my road alone.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: The elderly man at my café ordered dinner for two, but no one ever came. When I learned why, I couldn’t walk away. His love had vanished a year ago—without a trace. What I uncovered changed everything.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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