Samantha’s marriage to Daniel came with an unavoidable condition—his mother, Veronica. From the very beginning, Veronica made no effort to disguise her disdain. She criticized, mocked, and belittled Samantha at every turn. What should have been the start of a joyful new chapter instead felt like walking into a battlefield she never enlisted for.
The tension had been brewing since the wedding day itself. Samantha remembered it vividly: Veronica arrived in a long ivory gown with a delicate veil—alarmingly close to a bridal dress. Guests whispered, eyebrows arched, but Veronica beamed as if she were the star of the day. It was her silent declaration that she would never release her “little boy,” no matter his age.
Two years later, Samantha sat quietly in the passenger seat as Daniel drove them to his mother’s house. The silence was heavy, broken only by the hum of the tires. She rested her hands in her lap, gazing out the window, already longing for the drive home.
Veronica despised her. That much was undeniable.
When they pulled into the driveway, Samantha braced herself for another performance—forced smiles, polite nods, swallowing every cutting remark. The door swung open before they even reached it. Veronica, draped in a floral dress and pearls that gleamed in the afternoon sun, rushed forward with open arms.
“Oh, my baby! You’re finally here!” she cried, smothering Daniel in a suffocating embrace.
“Mom,” Daniel chuckled awkwardly, peeling her off, “it’s only been a week.”
But when Veronica’s gaze shifted to Samantha, her smile vanished, replaced by the familiar smirk that twisted Samantha’s stomach.
“Well, Samantha,” she said coolly, eyes sweeping her from head to toe, “I see you’ve put on a few pounds since last time.”
Samantha inhaled sharply, forcing a tight smile. “Good to see you too, Veronica.”
Dinner was torture. Between bites of roast chicken, Veronica launched into her usual attacks.
“She doesn’t know how to cook,” she declared. “Her job isn’t respectable. And her wardrobe—does she even try?”
Each comment was a dagger, her eyes flicking to Daniel as though seeking his agreement. Samantha gripped her fork so tightly her knuckles whitened. She told herself not to react. But then Veronica delivered the blow that shattered her restraint.
“Well,” she said slowly, locking eyes with Samantha, “isn’t it about time you gave me a grandchild? Or maybe…” She leaned back with a sly smile. “Maybe Samantha has… some problems?”
The words struck like a punch. Samantha’s throat tightened. She and Daniel had been trying for months without success—her private ache, now exposed and mocked.
“How dare you!” Samantha burst out, her voice shaking. “Stop meddling in our lives! Maybe your son’s the one with the problem!”
Veronica gasped theatrically, hand flying to her chest. “Absurd! My son is perfectly healthy. But you, Samantha… who knows what you were up to before you trapped him into marriage?”
Humiliation burned through Samantha. “You’re a bitter, spiteful woman!” she cried, turning to Daniel. “And you’re just going to sit there while she tears me apart?”
Daniel, scrolling idly on his phone, barely glanced up. “Work it out yourselves,” he muttered.
The betrayal stung worse than Veronica’s cruelty. Tears pricked Samantha’s eyes.
As if to twist the knife further, Veronica leaned in and whispered, “My neighbor swears by herbal teas. They help women like you. You should try it.”
Samantha’s stomach churned. She shot Veronica a glare. “Why don’t you drink your own tea?” she snapped before fleeing to the bathroom.
When she returned, pale and shaken, she whispered to Daniel, “I want to go home.”
He only nodded.
On the drive back, nausea lingered. A realization gnawed at her. “Daniel, can you stop at the pharmacy?”
With a sigh, he pulled over. Samantha hurried inside, bought a pregnancy test, and clutched it as though it carried her fate. At home, her hands trembled as she followed the instructions.
Minutes later, two bold lines appeared.
Her breath caught. Tears welled as relief, joy, and disbelief collided. She was pregnant.
Rushing to the bedroom, she held out the test. “Daniel,” she said breathlessly, glowing, “we’re going to have a baby!”
He looked up briefly. “Oh. That’s… good,” he muttered, turning back to his phone.
Her heart sank. She had imagined joy, maybe even tears of happiness. Instead, she got indifference.
Weeks passed, Daniel’s distance only growing. On the morning of their first appointment, while waiting for him to finish his shower, his phone buzzed. Samantha rarely touched it, but something urged her.
It was locked. A new passcode. She tried his birthday—the phone opened.
Her stomach flipped. On the screen: a photo of a half-dressed woman with the message, Can’t wait to see you, baby.
Her hands shook as she scrolled. There was no doubt. He had been cheating for months, feeding the woman lies about being wealthy and single.
She saved screenshots—proof.
When Daniel stepped out, towel around his shoulders, she confronted him. “What is this?!”
He froze, then sneered. “None of your business.”
“None of my business?!” she cried. “I’m pregnant, Daniel—your pregnant wife!”
“Maybe you’re the one cheating,” he shot back coldly. “How do I know the baby’s mine?”
Her world tilted. “We’ve been trying for half a year. Now you say this?”
He shrugged. “Six months, nothing. Suddenly it happens? Convenient.”
Tears blurred her eyes. “I saw the messages! You lied to her about everything!”
Daniel crossed his arms. “Doesn’t matter. I want a divorce. I’ll take the house, Mom’s money—you’ll have nothing.”
Samantha’s voice cracked. “This house was bought by my father!”
“It’s in both our names,” he said smugly.
“And the baby?” she whispered.
He shrugged. “Prove it’s mine when it’s born. Until then, too late.” And he walked out, leaving her sobbing.
In her desperation, Samantha turned to the last person she ever expected—Veronica.
At the dining table, she poured out everything: the affair, the threats, the lies. She braced for ridicule. Instead, Veronica’s face drained of color.
“He’s been taking my money too,” she admitted. “Every cent his father left me. Said it was for doctors—because you couldn’t get pregnant.”
Samantha shook her head. “He never went to a doctor. He drained the accounts.”
For the first time, Veronica’s icy mask cracked. “I can’t believe my son would do this.”
“He doesn’t even believe this baby is his,” Samantha whispered.
Veronica’s eyes hardened. “Then we’ll protect you—and this child. You have the screenshots?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I still have his toothbrush here. We’ll get a DNA test when the baby comes.”
Samantha blinked. “You’re helping me?”
Veronica exhaled heavily. “I defended him my whole life. His father was the same—a cheater, a liar. I won’t let another woman suffer like I did. Not you, and not my grandchild.”
Together, they formed a plan. Armed with evidence, Samantha forced Daniel to sign divorce papers, giving up the house in exchange for silence.
But Veronica wasn’t done. She went straight to his mistress, revealing every lie, every betrayal. The woman left him instantly.
Enraged, Daniel later stormed to Samantha’s door, pounding furiously. “You promised you wouldn’t tell!”
Samantha stayed calm. “I didn’t.”
From inside, Veronica’s voice rang out. “I did. Lies have consequences, Daniel.”
“You’re both insane!” he roared. “You’ll regret this!”
Before he could force his way in, police arrived, summoned by neighbors. They dragged him back as he shouted threats.
Inside, Samantha and Veronica sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea. For the first time, they weren’t enemies but allies—united by betrayal, and by something stronger: the will to protect the innocent life growing inside Samantha.
And in that moment, Samantha realized something she never thought possible. She no longer hated her mother-in-law. For once, Veronica had chosen her side—and she was grateful.
Note: 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.
