I Came Home with My Newborn Twins to Find the Locks Changed, My Stuff Thrown Out, and a Note Waiting for Me

After giving birth to my first children, I thought my husband would start choosing us more over his mother, but that wasn’t the case. This time, he’d chosen her side over me for the last time, so I exposed her for the bully and liar she was.

You’d think bringing home your newborn twins would be one of the happiest moments of your life. For me, it started like that, but it soon turned into an absolute nightmare!

An upset mother with her newborn babies | Source: Midjourney

An upset mother with her newborn babies | Source: Midjourney

After three days in the hospital, recovering from a grueling delivery, I was finally discharged and ready to head home with my beautiful twin daughters, Ella and Sophie. I’d imagined this moment for months: Derek, my husband, picking us up at the hospital with flowers, tears of joy in his eyes as he took one of the girls into his arms.

But instead, at the last minute, I got a hurried phone call that changed everything…

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, baby,” my husband said, his voice clipped. “I am so sorry, but I can’t come pick you guys up as planned.”

“What?” I asked, adjusting the swaddle around Sophie. “Derek, I just had twins. What’s so important that you can’t—”

“It’s my mom,” he interrupted. “She’s in bad shape. Hectic chest pains. I need to pick her up and take her to that hospital close to her.”

His words hit me like a bucket of cold water. “What? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Derek, I need you here.”

“I know,” he said, exasperated. “But this happened suddenly, and it’s serious. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

An anxious man on a call | Source: Midjourney

An anxious man on a call | Source: Midjourney

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to scream because of how disappointed and frustrated I felt, but I replied, “Fine. I’ll just get a taxi.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled before hanging up.

My husband’s mother lived in a different city, so the chances of him getting back that same day to get me and the babies were unrealistic. Knowing how obsessed Derek was with his mother, he wasn’t going to leave her by herself, hence the taxi.

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney

As the line went dead, my heart sank. I wanted to believe Derek wasn’t being callous, just overwhelmed and a mama’s boy. Still, the disappointment stung. The same mother-in-law (MIL) who insisted we make a separate set of keys to our house so she could help me with the babies was now suddenly unwell.

I tried shaking it off as I bundled the girls into their car seats that their father had dropped off the previous day and got us into a cab.

A woman in a cab with her children | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a cab with her children | Source: Midjourney

When we pulled into the driveway, I froze. My suitcases, diaper bags, and even the crib mattress were scattered across the front lawn and by the doorstep! A knot formed in my stomach. I paid the driver and stepped out with the twins, glancing around nervously. Something was obviously very wrong…

A messy front yard | Source: Midjourney

A messy front yard | Source: Midjourney

I approached the front door, fumbling with my keys while absentmindedly calling out my husband’s name, even though I knew he couldn’t be home yet. The key wouldn’t turn. Confused, I tried again. Nothing. Then I saw it, a folded piece of paper taped to a suitcase.

Get out of here with your little moochers! I know everything. Derek.

My breath caught, and my heart stopped. My hands trembled as I read the note again and again, trying to make sense of it while hoping it was a hallucination. This couldn’t be happening. Not Derek…

A shocked woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

Not the man who held my hand through every doctor’s appointment, who cried when we heard our daughters’ heartbeats for the first time. Then the worst part of that day began…

Wanting answers, I called him immediately. Straight to voicemail. Again. Voicemail. Panic set in as Sophie’s cries joined Ella’s. I rocked their car seats, forcing myself to think.

A stressed woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

A stressed woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

“Mom,” I whispered. My hands shook as I dialed her number.

“Jenna?” Mom answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong? Are the twins okay?”

I choked out the words, barely able to hold it together. I hadn’t wanted to involve my mother due to her ailing condition, but I believed this was one of those dire moments.

“Derek… He changed the locks. He threw my stuff outside. Mom, he left this awful note.”

“WHAT?!” Her voice shot up. “Stay there. I’m coming.”

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

Minutes felt like hours before she arrived. Mom took one look at the mess and narrowed her eyes, fuming.

“This doesn’t make sense! Derek wouldn’t do this; he loves you and the girls!”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, rocking Ella to calm her cries. “But he’s not answering. And what does ‘I know everything’ even mean?” I asked showing her the offensive note.

“I am so sorry, my darling,” she said while hugging me close. “Let’s go to my place until we can get a hold of your husband, okay?”

An older woman hugging a younger one | Source: Midjourney

An older woman hugging a younger one | Source: Midjourney

She helped me load the bags into her car and whisked us back to her place. After my mother and I dissected what had happened and repeatedly called Derek with no answer, my anxiety spiked. That night, I barely slept.

The next morning, I decided I needed answers. Leaving the twins with Mom, I drove back in her car to the house. The yard was empty, my belongings gone. I knocked on the door. No response. I walked around to the back, peering through the windows, and froze.

A shocked woman peaking through a window | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman peaking through a window | Source: Midjourney

Derek’s mother, Lorraine, sat at the dining table, sipping tea! I banged on the door, and she looked up, startled, almost spilling her tea before she saw me and smirked.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, banging on the door.

Lorraine rose leisurely and opened it just a crack. “Jenna. You’re not welcome here, didn’t you see the note?”

“Where’s Derek?” I snapped. “Why did he—”

“He’s at the hospital in my city,” she said smoothly. “Taking care of his sick mother.”

A nonchalant older woman standing by a door | Source: Midjourney

A nonchalant older woman standing by a door | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, disbelief washing over me. “Sick? You’re standing right here!”

She shrugged, her lips curling into a malicious smile. “Maybe I’m feeling better. Miracles happen.”

“You lied to him, didn’t you? You faked being sick!”

Her smile widened. “And?”

My hands balled into fists. “Why? Why would you do this?”

She crossed her arms, her smugness growing.

A smug older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smug older woman | Source: Midjourney

“I told Derek from the start that our family needs a boy to carry on the name. But you? You gave us two girls. Useless,” she confessed unapologetically, finally speaking her truth after all these years I’ve been with her son.

Her words knocked the air out of me. I was too stunned to speak, and she took my silence as permission to keep going.

“I knew you’d ruin my son’s life, so I took matters into my own hands. The note was a bit much, but I needed you to believe he wanted you gone. I even ensured he couldn’t call you by taking his phone right out of his pocket when he wasn’t looking. You were supposed to take your things and get out of our lives, but here you are…”

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t breathe. This woman had orchestrated everything, lied to her son, and got him to take her to the hospital under false pretenses before sneaking away, locked me out of my home, and stole his phone all because she disapproved of my daughters!

“You threw us out over that?”

“Of course,” she said, unbothered. “I even bribed a nurse at the hospital to keep him there. And it worked, didn’t it?”

I felt sick. “You’re deranged!”

“Call me what you want,” she sneered. “I call it protecting my family. Besides, my Derek always takes my side and will see things my way as usual.”

An arrogant older woman | Source: Midjourney

An arrogant older woman | Source: Midjourney

Her words echoed in my mind as I drove to the hospital where my husband was still waiting. With every mile, my anger grew. How could she justify such cruelty? My hands gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles white with fury.

I knew my MIL was mean, but I didn’t think she was evil! She never approved of my relationship or marriage to her son, always believing Derek deserved someone wealthier and fancier, unlike me.

An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney

When I reached the hospital, I found my husband pacing in the waiting room, his eyes shadowed with worry.

“Jenna!” he said, rushing toward me. “Where have you been? I don’t have my phone or know your number by heart, so I couldn’t call you!”

“Your mother took your phone,” I cut him off. “She faked her illness and locked me out of the house!”

He froze, confusion and anger flashing across his face. “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

A man at a hospital | Source: Midjourney

A man at a hospital | Source: Midjourney

“She set me up, wrote a fake note from you sending me away, and bribed a nurse to lie to you,” I said, my voice trembling. “Lorraine’s at our house, sipping tea like she’s the queen of the world!”

“Wait. What? Why would she…”

“Because our daughters aren’t boys,” I said bitterly.

The shock turned to rage on his face. Without saying a word, he grabbed his keys and stormed out, with me following close behind. When we got home, Lorraine was exactly where I’d left her, looking utterly unbothered.

An older woman having tea | Source: Midjourney

An older woman having tea | Source: Midjourney

But her smugness vanished when she saw the determined look on Derek’s face.

“Mom,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “What did you do? I thought you were in the hospital?”

She opened her mouth, likely to lie, but Derek cut her off. “Save it. I know everything.”

“Derek, I was just trying to—”

“You’ve done enough,” he snapped. “You made me abandon my wife and children for a fake emergency! Then you locked my wife, who just gave birth, and our newborn babies out of our home! On top of that, you cut our ability to communicate during such a crucial time by stealing my phone!”

An angry man shouting | Source: Midjourney

An angry man shouting | Source: Midjourney

“Derek, darling… I just wanted to keep you safe. This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” my MIL replied pleadingly.

“Keep me safe from my wife and children? Who told you I wanted boys? What makes you think my girls aren’t good enough for me just because of their gender? That’s a problem you have, not me, and if you want sons, I suggest you go make them yourself!”

I stood with my mouth agape, having never seen Derek this angry! I won’t lie, a part of me was proud that he was proving himself worthy of me by defending my and the children’s honor. At that moment, I loved him more than ever before!

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

“Pack your things and leave,” he demanded.

She gaped at him, tears forming. “You can’t mean that. I’m your mother!”

“And Jenna is my WIFE! Those are my daughters! If you can’t respect them, you’re not part of our lives!”

For once, Lorraine was speechless. She stormed upstairs to pack, slamming doors as she went. Derek turned to me, his eyes full of remorse.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t know.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tension easing just a little. “I just want us to move forward.”

A happy woman with her man | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman with her man | Source: Midjourney

Lorraine left that night. My husband apologized repeatedly, vowing to make things right. And he did. He changed the locks, blocked his mother’s number, and even reported the nurse who had taken the bribe!

It wasn’t easy, but for months we worked on rebuilding our life. One evening, as I rocked Ella and Sophie to sleep, I realized Lorraine had tried to destroy us but only managed to bring us closer together.

A happy couple with their twins | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple with their twins | Source: Midjourney

Sadly, Jenna isn’t the only daughter-in-law who has had to face a difficult MIL. In the following story, Michelle’s MIL surprises her and her husband with a DNA test for their son thinking it would finally break them up. But things didn’t play out in her favor, the way she imagined.

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.

I Received an Old Letter from My Husband That Said, ‘I Did This for Us but You Must Keep Silent’ — the Truth Left Me Stunned

I was so excited to receive a letter sent by my husband when we were teenagers. But the cryptic note inside and photos of our classmates, including one of a friend who drowned, left me questioning our entire lives.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon, the kind where nothing particularly exciting happened. My husband, Ernest, was tending to the garden. Our kids, 15 and 14, were out with their friends.

Happy man gradening | Source: Midjourney

Happy man gradening | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, I was sitting in the kitchen of our cozy suburban home, sifting through the day’s mail. There was nothing unusual, at first. Bills, advertisements, and a random catalog I’d never requested.

But tucked between a grocery coupon and a credit card offer, I spotted a yellowed envelope with frayed edges. That was odd, yet what was even more surprising was the postmark dating back 20 years.

Upon closer inspection, I recognized Ernest’s messy handwriting. Had he sent it? Based on the date, we must have been in high school still. He and I started dating a couple of years after graduation and got married 15 years ago.

A bride walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney

A bride walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney

The idea that he’d sent me something even before that was extremely exciting and romantic, so I smiled as I ripped into the envelope.

Inside was a single piece of paper and ten small photographs. There was a message on the note and the words immediately made my smile disappear:

“I DID THIS FOR US, BUT YOU MUST KEEP SILENT.”

What did that mean? I really had no idea, so I glanced at the photos, hoping they might explain.

Photos on a table | Source: Pexels

Photos on a table | Source: Pexels

Most of them featured the teenagers from our high school, faces I recognized immediately. Well, some more than others. I saw myself, Ernest, my best friend Cynthia, etc. But one in particular stood out, and not for a good reason.

Thomas.

I gulped as the memories came back. Soon, tears started stinging my eyes.

Thomas had been a friend of ours, too. He was a sweet, goofy guy who had tragically drowned one summer. It was a horrific event. I always thought the best of him. I always… well. But staring at his photograph, I noticed something else.

A teenager by a lake | Source: Midjourney

A teenager by a lake | Source: Midjourney

Thomas was standing by the lake where he met his end, while everyone else’s photos were taken at the school. Why was his image different? And why did my husband write that strange note? Were those two things related?

Either way, something wasn’t right.

I was still holding the photos and the note when the back door creaked open. Ernest walked into the kitchen, his gloves and hands streaked with dirt from yard work.

A man in gardening clothes | Source: Midjourney

A man in gardening clothes | Source: Midjourney

He smiled briefly at me, but as soon as his eyes landed on what I was holding, the smile vanished.

“Where did you get that?” he asked sharply.

I hesitated. “It came in the mail,” I said, holding the envelope up. “Ernest, what is this? You sent it 20 years ago? And this note…” I unfolded the paper, showing him the bold words.

My husband’s eyes darted between the note and the photos in rapid succession, but he didn’t say a thing.

“What does it mean?” I urged.

A woman looking worried | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking worried | Source: Midjourney

At last, he let out a laugh, a breathless sound.

“Wow, I can’t believe it really showed up after all this time,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “There was a company that offered to send you packages in the future. I was just messing around back then. I thought they went bankrupt.”

I frowned. Was there really such a thing? Like a time capsule messenger service? I had no idea, but in any case, it didn’t explain the note.

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

“But then, what does this message mean?” I insisted. “‘I did this for us, but you must keep silent.’ I don’t understand.”

Ernest laughed awkwardly again.

“I was trying to get better at photography back then. I wanted to be a photojournalist, remember? I think I was also trying to impress you. You’d friend-zoned me in high school. But also, I didn’t want others to know. It wasn’t exactly the coolest thing for a guy to be into. I probably wrote that just in case the package was sent immediately by mistake. I didn’t want you to tell anyone.”

A teenager with a camera | Source: Unsplash

A teenager with a camera | Source: Unsplash

He took a deep breath after finishing that long-winded explanation and turned, removing his gloves and beginning to wash his hands.

I studied his back. It was tight, and his movements were jerky. “What about Thomas?” I asked, holding up a specific photo. “Why did you take this by the lake, instead of the school like everyone else?”

A man washing his hands on a kitchen sink | Source: Midjourney

A man washing his hands on a kitchen sink | Source: Midjourney

Ernest turned slightly and frowned, but he didn’t meet my eyes. “Oh, I probably didn’t catch him at school and took another photo at the lake instead. He was my friend, too, you know,” he sighed as he dried his hands. “It’s sad to see that picture at all and know what happened later.”

With a nod and a deep breath, my husband left the kitchen. He didn’t rush, but his back was still stiff. I stayed back and stared at the photos again as if I could see something new; some clue I hadn’t spotted before.

His explanation made perfect sense, but something in my gut told me there was more to this story.

A woman looking worried | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking worried | Source: Midjourney

As a matter of fact, there was a time when… if things had been different… Thomas could have been my….

I didn’t even notice that 30 minutes had passed until Ernest returned to the kitchen, freshly showered. I tracked his movements as he poured himself some water and drank it casually.

“Ernest,” I began.

“Yeap?” he said, too nonchalantly, widening his eyes in curiosity.

“Are you sure nothing else is going on?” I insisted, holding up Thomas’s photo again.

A woman's hand holding up a photo | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s hand holding up a photo | Source: Midjourney

He frowned. “What are you really asking, Suzanne?”

I looked down at the table and licked my lips. I didn’t know how to express myself without any… accusation.

“It’s just that your face and your body language were pretty strange when I showed you the note and the photos,” I said and smiled, hoping to be reassuring. “Is there something else you’re not telling me? You know I love you. You can tell me anything. We’ll get through it.”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

“Look, baby,” Ernest said, walking around the kitchen but not meeting my eyes once. “I was shocked by the package, the memories, what happened to Thomas. I don’t know. And what I said before is the only explanation I can think of for that message. God, I don’t even remember what I had for breakfast today, so maybe, something else happened.”

He exhaled and put the water glass down on the counter.

“Maybe, there was some inside joke between us,” Ernest suggested, shaking his head. “Again, I don’t know. But we can just throw this out if it’s worrying you.”

A man frowning while leaning on a counter | Source: Midjourney

A man frowning while leaning on a counter | Source: Midjourney

My hands instinctively placed Thomas’s photo behind my back, like I was shielding it. Ernest raised an eyebrow at me, so I started speaking.

“No, no,” I smiled wider, hoping he didn’t notice it was forced. “I was just being silly. This is actually really nice. It brings back so many memories.”

“Okay, then,” he said, approaching me. His hands touched my shoulders, and he kissed me quickly before going to the living room to watch TV.

A man's hand holding a remote in a living room | Source: Unsplash

A man’s hand holding a remote in a living room | Source: Unsplash

Once he was out of view, I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. I also tried to push down my crazy imagination before the idea of two teen boys standing by a lake appeared behind my eyes.

No. I was not going there.

Instead, I pictured the Ernest I knew: the great husband, who massaged my feet when I was pregnant, the unbelievable father who never missed our kids’ games, and the amazing provider who gave us a beautiful home, tended to the garden, and occasionally grilled the best steak in town.

Meat and potatoes on a grill | Source: Unsplash

Meat and potatoes on a grill | Source: Unsplash

And with those very real memories in mind, I let my worries go. I put the photos and the note back into the envelope and stored them in a drawer where we kept random things.

I finally left the kitchen and smiled sweetly at my husband as I passed through the living room toward our bedroom. Once in bed, I reached for my phone.

Phone | Source: Unsplash

Phone | Source: Unsplash

The AirPods settled into my ears, and I clicked play on one of my favorite podcasts about unsolved mysteries. The stories always calmed me. I must have fallen asleep because Ernest woke up me with a kiss.

He had even prepared dinner, and our teens were already at the table, chatting wildly about their day. My husband laughed and asked them questions while we dug into the food.

It was then that I took a good look at us, at this perfect moment in time with our family. I knew that in 50 years, I would still remember how happy we were.

A man smiling at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

And I wanted more of that. So, I looked at Ernest and squeezed his hand before turning to my kids with a smile. I listened intently to their conversation. It was a great dinner.

Later that night, I slept in my husband’s arms, holding him tightly as if he might disappear.

I had a wild imagination. I knew that. What’s more, I also knew that the podcasts I listened to tended to make me paranoid, even if I thought they were soothing.

But this was my reality. This was the truth and what mattered. I wasn’t going to jeopardize that by coming up with crazy scenarios and questioning Ernest’s words. I believed him fully, and I still do.

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

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.

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