My MIL Left the House Every Thursday & Returned Smelling Terribly — I Went Pale When I Discovered Why

They say you never really know someone until you’ve lived with them. I thought I knew my mother-in-law, but everything changed when I decided to follow her. What I uncovered wasn’t just a secret; it was a ticking time bomb that threatened the peace of our home.

I used to think my life was predictable, with its comforting routine. I worked as a freelance graphic designer, which gave me the flexibility to be home most days while still bringing in a decent income.

A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney

A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney

Xander, my husband, worked long hours at his law firm, so I often had the house to myself. It was peaceful until my mother-in-law, Cordelia, moved in three months ago.

After her husband passed away, she called us one night, her voice trembling.

“Olive, dear… I don’t know how to do this on my own,” she’d sobbed over the phone. “The house is so empty, so lonely… I just need to be around my family.”

An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

I glanced at Xander, and he nodded, looking concerned. We agreed to let Cordelia move in; it felt like the right thing to do for a grieving woman who’d just lost her partner of 40 years. But from the start, something felt off.

Cordelia had always been a little strange, but now her behavior was unpredictable. Every Thursday, she would leave early in the morning and return late in the evening, her clothes carrying a terrible stench: something rotten and damp, like decay. It lingered, clinging to the air and making me question what she was really up to.

A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney

“Mom, where were you today?” Xander asked her one Thursday evening as she shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes avoiding ours. I stood by the stove, pretending to stir a pot of soup, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell.

“Oh, just out with some old friends,” she said, waving a hand dismissively, her smile tight and unconvincing.

A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

“Every Thursday?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. “That must be some social circle.”

She glanced at me, her eyes lingering a moment too long, then shrugged. “We like to meet regularly. It’s good for the soul, you know, catching up with old friends.”

But that smell — it was like she’d been crawling through a sewer. The scent lingered long after she’d passed, a pungent blend of garbage and something wet and decayed. I could feel my curiosity gnawing at me, the way you can’t help but poke at a sore tooth.

A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

One Wednesday night, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Xander,” I whispered, nudging him awake. “Are you seriously buying that story?”

He blinked sleepily. “What story?”

“Your mom’s ‘out with old friends’ story,” I replied. “Every Thursday? And that smell… it’s not normal.”

He sighed. “Maybe she’s just grieving in her own way, Olive. People cope differently.”

I felt my jaw tighten. “And what way is that? Dumpster diving?”

He chuckled softly, half-asleep, “Let it go, love. It’s probably nothing.”

A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

But it didn’t feel like “nothing.” It felt like a secret, and I needed to know.

The next Thursday, I called in sick and decided to follow her. I waited by the window, peeking through the blinds like some kind of amateur detective. Cordelia left the house at her usual time, dressed in her oversized coat, clutching her handbag tightly.

I kept a safe distance as she walked down the street, turning left at the end and then another left into an alley I didn’t even know existed. My heart pounded in my chest as I tailed her.

A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She stopped at the corner and looked around like she was checking for someone or something.

“Where are you going, Cordelia?” I whispered, more curious than ever.

I was expecting something harmless, maybe even laughable, like an old ladies’ knitting club or maybe a bingo night in a creepy basement. But what I found inside was nothing like that.

Cordelia didn’t meet up with friends. Instead, she made her way through the shadiest part of town, slipping into an old, run-down building that looked like it could collapse at any moment.

A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney

I hesitated outside, the walls covered in graffiti and the windows boarded up, but I took a deep breath and followed her inside. The air was thick with smoke, the kind that sticks to your skin, and the room was filled with the low hum of murmurs and distant laughter.

That’s when I saw it: a hidden, illegal casino tucked away in the back, reeking of stale smoke and the sour smell of desperation. The dimly lit room was filled with flashing lights and the sounds of poker chips clinking filled the air.

Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels

Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels

And there, in the middle of it all, was my mother-in-law. Not just “hanging out with friends,” but gambling away every penny she could get her hands on, her eyes fixed on the cards in front of her, her hands trembling with each bet she placed.

I stayed in the shadows, barely breathing, watching her play hand after hand. She looked different, haggard, almost like she was wearing the weight of every decision she’d ever made. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the noise.

A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney

A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney

I saw her lose money, win a little, then lose it all again. She seemed almost possessed, her fingers shaking as she reached for the chips, her face lined with a mixture of desperation and obsession.

I wanted to pull her out of there, to grab her by the arm and drag her home, but I couldn’t move. I felt frozen, glued to the spot. I needed to see how far she would go. She didn’t leave until late in the evening, and when she finally did, she looked exhausted.

A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Her eyes were glazed over, and her shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of her losses on her back.

I waited until she turned the corner before I followed, keeping my distance. As we walked back, I felt a wave of anger and pity twisting in my stomach. What had she gotten herself into? And why hadn’t she told us?

The next morning, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. At breakfast, I set my coffee cup down a little too hard. “Cordelia, where were you yesterday?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She barely looked up from her cereal. “With friends, like I told you.”

“Stop lying, Cordelia,” I snapped. “I followed you. I know where you were.”

Her spoon clattered against the bowl, and she went pale. “You… you followed me?”

Xander looked between us, confused. “What’s going on?”

“She wasn’t with friends, Xander,” I said, my gaze fixed on her. “She was at an illegal casino, gambling. And from the looks of it, she’s been doing it for a while.”

A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Cordelia’s face crumpled, and she broke down. “I… I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’ve lost everything… everything. I had nowhere else to go. That’s why I begged you to let me stay. I was ashamed, and I didn’t know how to tell you…”

Xander’s face turned a deep shade of red. “You mean to tell me you’ve been lying to us this whole time? Using us?”

“I didn’t mean to!” she cried. “I didn’t know how to stop. I thought maybe… maybe I could win it all back.”

A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney

A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney

I felt a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the anger boiling inside me. “You’ve been draining us, Cordelia. We took you in because we cared, not so you could feed your addiction.”

She looked at me, her face streaked with tears. “I know, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll change. Just… don’t throw me out. Please.”

That night, Xander and I lay in bed, unable to sleep. “We have to do something,” I whispered. “We can’t just let her keep doing this.”

Xander sighed deeply. “What do you suggest, Olive? Tough love?”

A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

I nodded. “Exactly. If she’s not going to stop on her own, then we’ll have to make her stop.”

The following Thursday, I handed her a large sum of cash, more than she had seen in one place since she’d moved in with us. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw that familiar spark of greed.

“Go ahead,” I said, forcing a smile. “Take this and do whatever you want with it.”

A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She hesitated for just a second before snatching the money and stuffing it into her purse.

“Thank you, Olive,” she murmured, her voice shaking, but she didn’t meet my eyes. And then she was gone, practically running out the door.

Xander stood behind me, his arms crossed. “Are you sure about this?”

“Trust me,” I replied. “She won’t get far.”

Earlier that day, I had made a few calls, and by the time Cordelia reached the casino, the place was swarming with undercover cops. The raid went down right as she was about to hand over the cash.

Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney

I wasn’t there to see it, but I could imagine the look on her face: shock, maybe a little betrayal, as they caught her red-handed, along with the owners of the illegal casino.

That evening, the phone rang. It was the police. “Mrs. Fields?” the officer said. “We have your mother-in-law in custody.”

“We know,” I replied calmly. “And we’re not bailing her out. You should know she’s been struggling with a gambling addiction. We want her to get help.”

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

The officer seemed taken aback but eventually agreed to include our statement in the report. The judge showed no mercy; Cordelia was sentenced to mandatory rehabilitation and a hefty fine.

Months later, when she was released from rehab, Cordelia looked different. She seemed smaller, more fragile. She stood in our doorway, wringing her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I know I hurt you both, and I’m ready to make it right. I want to rebuild my life.”

A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney

Xander and I exchanged a look. He stepped forward, his expression soft but firm.

“We’re willing to give you another chance, Mom,” he said, “but on our terms. We’ve found you a modest apartment nearby. We’ll cover the rent, but only if you keep your word and attend your support group meetings.”

Cordelia nodded eagerly, tears in her eyes. “I will. I swear. Thank you… thank you for giving me a chance.”

As we watched her walk away to her new home, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope mixed with the fear of another betrayal.

A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney

We’d done all we could, and the rest was up to her. The ball was in her court, and only time would tell if she could truly change.

But when Natasha starts to see a change in Marlene’s behavior, she begins to get worried about the old woman. Eventually, when the truth is revealed, Natasha doesn’t know what to do.

Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels

Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels

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.

Kids with kids: Where are Britain’s youngest parents now

When the story of then 13-year-old Alfie Patten went viral, then Prime Minister David Cameron stated, “I just thought how worrying that in Britain today children are having children.”

Even before reaching the legal age to buy party poppers, Alfie became the youngest ever father in Britain. It was later determined that another young man, slightly older than Alfie was the real father, and this incident ruined Alfie’s life completely. Even today, he’s facing plenty of issues, including alcohol abuse and problems with the law.

However, the story of Alfie and the girl who gave birth to his alleged daughter isn’t the only one of youngsters becoming parents in Britain.

Tressa Middleton, the youngest mother in Britain, who gave birth to her first daughter at the age of just twelve, recently announced she’s expecting her fourth child.

The now 29-year-old mom shared the news of her pregnancy on the social media by posting a photo of the ultrasound. She welcomed her latest child 17 years after she made headlines for being the youngest mother Britain has ever seen.

“So guys, it’s another girl!!” she captioned her post. “Four girls, I can’t believe it. Good luck, Darren.”

Former Britain’s youngest mum Tressa Middleton with her daughter in 2006

Tressa’s story is a heartbreaking one. Her parents were alcohol and drug abusers and her childhood was a tough one, to say the least.

She fell pregnant at the age of 11 and gave birth at 12, shortly after finishing elementary school.

Following the birth of her daughter, the young mom battled depression and started using drugs and alcohol, which resulted in losing the custody of her girl. The baby was put up for adoption.

The father’s identity was kept a secret until 2009, or three years after Tressa gave birth.

At one point, she broke down and confessed that her daughter was her brother’s who s******y assaulted her from the time she was seven years old.

The 34-year-old Jason was found guilty and sentenced to four years in prison in 2009.

Speaking to the Daily Mail in 2011, Tressa confessed that “sometimes he blackmailed or bribed me to do it.

“He’d say he was going to tell Mum. He’d give me things – joints, drink, cigarettes. Or he’d threaten me.”

Since then, Tressa has battled to put her life back on track and overcome her addictions, which cost her around £400 every day.

Up until 2011, Tressa was considered to be the youngest mother in Britain. But then, the news of an 11-year-old girl who gave birth filled the headlines.

The girl’s identity was kept a secret, but what is known, as per The Sun, that she was s******y assaulted and her family was unaware of that.

“It has come as a big shock,” a family friend said in 2021 to The Sun.

“She’s now being surrounded by expert help. The main thing is that she and the baby are OK.”

Prior to the case of Alfie, it was Sean Stewart who was thought to be the youngest father in Britain.

In 1998, Sean’s next door neighbor, Emma Webster, 15, got pregnant with his child. At the time, Sean was 11 years old.

A month after turning twelve, Sean’s son, Ben Louis, was born and Sean was granted a day off from school.

Sean and Emma were neighbors and according to her, he would climb to her rooftop to see her.

“He said he was 12, I’d never have gone out with him if I’d known he was 11,” she told The Sunday Telegraph at the time.

Shortly after giving birth, Emma married someone else and moved to a £200,000 house, while Sean continued attending his local school before leaving Bedfordshire in his early adolescence.

According to The Daily Mail, in the early 2000s, he was incarcerated for seven months for stealing.

Speaking of him, Emma said at the time, “I don’t know where Sean is or what he is doing. I don’t want to talk about it anymore because I don’t think it helps Ben.”

No matter how unbelievable these stories sound, the one that is the most shocking of all is that of Lina Medina from Peru who gave birth at the age of just five. Today, Medina is 89 years old.

When she gave birth in 1939, she became the youngest mother in the history. Allegedly, she suffered from “precocious puberty,” a disorder that causes puberty to start earlier than usual.

At the time, it was believed that Medina’s child was her father’s but he was eventually freed of all charges because of insufficient evidence.

Teenage couples of a comparable age who have consensual s*x in the UK and are under the legal consent age of 16 are unlikely to face legal action.

But all s****l activity with children under the age of 13 is illegal.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*