My MIL Put Spyware in My Phone — She Didn’t Like My Surprise in Response

My MIL Put Spyware in My Phone — She Didn’t Like My Surprise in Response

Living with my mother-in-law has been a nightmare. But when she insisted on fixing my broken phone, I thought it was a small step toward mending our strained relationship. Little did I know that her helpful gesture would lead to a shocking discovery that forced me to confront her schemes and ultimately redefine our household’s boundaries.

A woman and her mother in law arguing | Source: Pexels

A woman and her mother in law arguing | Source: Pexels

My life has been hell ever since my Mother-In-Law (MIL) moved in with me and my husband. My name is Emily, 25, and I have been married to my husband Andrew, 28, for five years now. We stay with my MIL, Sophia, who moved in with us due to ill health about three years ago.

From the day I married her son, she made it clear that she thought I wasn’t good enough for him. Our relationship was strained at best, and we did our best to stay out of each other’s paths to keep the peace at home.

Two women who are not getting along | Source: Vecteezy

Two women who are not getting along | Source: Vecteezy

Now, a few months ago, I broke my phone, and my MIL, who was watching me closely on that day, had a whole rant about how “irresponsible I was” and how I should act “more mature.” Sophia complained incessantly about the cost of fixing the phone, grumbling about how much money I was wasting and how this could have been avoided if I had been more careful.

A mother-in-law repremanding her son's wife | Source: Pexels

A mother-in-law repremanding her son’s wife | Source: Pexels

Yet, despite her constant complaints, she was surprisingly adamant about taking my phone to get it fixed herself since she stayed at home. I was a bit confused about why she wanted to go so badly, but I just let her go, as I thought she was making a kind gesture to bring us close. She came back with my phone fixed, and everything seemed normal.

A woman using her working phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her working phone | Source: Pexels

Fast forward two months, I noticed how my phone started to act weird. I asked Sophia if she had taken it to a reputable technician. “Of course,” she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I took it to the best place in town.”

“I’m asking because the phone has been acting really weird,” I explained.

Sophia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You’re being dramatic, Emily. It’s probably just your imagination.”

A woman trying to figure out what is wrong with her phone | Source: Vecteezy

A woman trying to figure out what is wrong with her phone | Source: Vecteezy

I decided to leave the matter alone but at work weird data-like things kept popping up on its screen, making it almost impossible for me to use the phone. So, after work, I took the phone to the local tech support kiosk.

To my SHOCK, the tech support guy opened it up and said, “Someone put a chip in your phone.”

I blinked, trying to process his words. “A chip? What do you mean?”

A woman with her phone that is giving her problems | Source: Pexels

A woman with her phone that is giving her problems | Source: Pexels

He pointed at a small, unfamiliar piece of hardware. “This chip allows someone to see your messages, your location, and your emails. It’s a form of spyware.”

My heart raced. “Are you serious? Who would do this?”

He shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but it must be someone who had access to your phone for a while.”

A spyware transmitting data and information | Source: Vecteezy

A spyware transmitting data and information | Source: Vecteezy

The only person who could do it was Sophia since my husband worked in another city for three months. I was mad as HELL and as I left the shop, I quickly formulated a plan.

In my mind, I thought, ‘She wants to spy on me? Okay, then I’ll give her something to see.’ So, I decided to leave the chip in my phone.

A woman plotiing | Source: Pixabay

A woman plotiing | Source: Pixabay

I started signing up for adult shops, videos, and other 18+ content. Then, I began driving to men’s clubs and sending explicit messages to my husband, all while knowing my MIL was watching every move. My MIL became increasingly annoying but she couldn’t say anything specific about what was happening.

An annoyed woman | Source: Vecteezy

An annoyed woman | Source: Vecteezy

When my husband came back, my MIL set us at the table and began accusing me of cheating and all the things she had seen.

“I can’t believe this, Emily!” Sophia started, her face flushed with anger. “I’ve seen the messages you’ve been sending to strange men! And the places you’ve been visiting! Adult shops? Men’s clubs? How could you do this to my son?”

A mother-in-law making accusations | Source: Vecteezy

A mother-in-law making accusations | Source: Vecteezy

Andrew looked bewildered. “What are you talking about, Mom?”

Sophia continued, her voice rising. “I’ve seen it all on her phone! Explicit messages, shady locations, and subscriptions to all sorts of adult content. She’s been betraying you, Andrew!”

“How do you know all this?” I asked calmly.

She hesitated, then blurted out, “I saw it on your phone! There’s a chip that… well, it shows everything you’re doing!”

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

I feigned shock. “A chip? In my phone? How could that happen?” I exclaimed, widening my eyes in disbelief. “Who would do such a thing? This is outrageous! How did it even get there?”

My MIL’s face turned red. “I… I put it there to keep an eye on you. I knew you were up to something! I knew you were not good enough for my son. A liar and a cheat!”

An accusing finger | Source: Pixabay

An accusing finger | Source: Pixabay

I smirked a hint of satisfaction in my voice. “Oh, I knew about the chip. And I decided to have some fun with it. You wanted to spy on me? I gave you a show.” I leaned in slightly, my eyes glinting with defiance. “Every adult shop, every explicit message, every shady location—you saw exactly what I wanted you to see. How does it feel to be played at your own game?”

A woman smirking with satisfaction | Source: Pixabay

A woman smirking with satisfaction | Source: Pixabay

My husband looked between us, stunned. “You both knew? What the hell is going on?”

My MIL stammered, “She was… she was doing all those things on purpose?”

I nodded, laughing. “Yes. To show you that spying on someone is wrong. You invaded my privacy, and I wanted you to see how it feels to be manipulated.”

A woman laughing with satisfaction | Source: Pixabay

A woman laughing with satisfaction | Source: Pixabay

My husband finally spoke, his voice firm. “Mom, this is unacceptable. You can’t just spy on people. We need to have boundaries in this house.”

My MIL, looking defeated, muttered, “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“Apology accepted,” I said, “but from now on, let’s respect each other’s privacy. Agreed?”

Mother-in-law and her son's wife reconclie | Source: Vecteezy

Mother-in-law and her son’s wife reconclie | Source: Vecteezy

My MIL nodded reluctantly, and my husband added, “We’ll make sure this never happens again.”

And with that, the tension began to dissipate, and we started to rebuild trust, setting clear boundaries for the future.

When I Got Home Early from Work, My Husband Offered to Give Me a Foot Massage – It Felt Suspicious, and I Was Right

I got home early, and Greg greeted me with an unusual smile and an offer to massage my feet—something he’d never done before. I wanted to believe it was kindness, but a faint click from the bathroom told me the truth: my husband was hiding a devastating secret.

It all started six years ago. I was 29, fresh out of a long-term relationship, and feeling like I’d never find someone again.

A sad young woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

A sad young woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

Then, one evening, Greg walked into my life. I was sitting at a bar, nursing a glass of wine after work, when he strolled over with that confident, easy smile of his.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, gesturing to the stool beside me.

He was tall, handsome, and had a twinkle in his eye. He was the kind of guy who seemed like he had the whole world figured out. I smiled shyly and nodded.

A man in a bar | Source: Pexels

A man in a bar | Source: Pexels

He sat down and immediately started talking. “You look like you’ve had a long day. Let me guess—accountant?”

I laughed. “Close. Marketing.”

“Ah, I knew it. You’ve got that creative, problem-solving vibe,” he said, grinning.

From that moment, I was hooked. Greg had a way of making me feel seen, like I was the most interesting person in the room. We started dating, and within a year, we were married.

A woman leaning against a man who's smiling while working on his laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman leaning against a man who’s smiling while working on his laptop | Source: Pexels

At first, it was perfect. He was funny, charming, and affectionate. He made me feel like I could do anything. I thought he brought out the best in me.

But as time went on, little things started to bother me. Greg didn’t want kids. He said it wasn’t the right time, but I knew deep down he’d never change his mind. It broke my heart because I had always dreamed of a big family.

A sad woman with her back turned to a distraught man | Source: Pexels

A sad woman with her back turned to a distraught man | Source: Pexels

And then there was his tendency to prioritize everyone else over me. His brother needed help moving? Greg was there. His friends wanted to hang out? He’d cancel our plans without a second thought. I told myself it was just who he was, but it hurt.

Over the years, our marriage settled into something… quiet. Too quiet. The spark that had once been there was gone. We were more like roommates than a couple.

A woman talking to her husband in the corridor | Source: Pexels

A woman talking to her husband in the corridor | Source: Pexels

That evening, I got home early from work for the first time in weeks. I was exhausted after back-to-back meetings and just wanted to kick off my heels and relax.

When I walked in, Greg was waiting for me by the door. He had this huge grin on his face, the kind that made his dimples show.

“Long day?” he asked, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

“Yeah,” I said, dropping my bag on the console table. “Exhausting.”

A tired woman | Source: Pexels

A tired woman | Source: Pexels

“Perfect,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll give you a foot massage.”

I blinked. Greg? Offering a foot massage? He usually groaned when I asked him to hand me the remote.

“Are you serious?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he said, guiding me to the couch. “You deserve to be pampered.”

A couple kissing at home | Source: Pexels

A couple kissing at home | Source: Pexels

Too tired to argue, I let him slip off my shoes. His hands were surprisingly gentle as they worked on my aching feet.

“This is… nice,” I said hesitantly.

He laughed, a little too loudly. “Can’t a guy spoil his wife without it being suspicious?”

I forced a smile but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. This wasn’t Greg. At least, not the Greg I’d been living with for the past few years.

A serious woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A serious woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney

Then, I heard a faint click coming from down the hall.

I sat up straight. “Did you hear that? Like the bathroom door…”

Greg laughed nervously. “Must be the pipes. You know how this old house is.”

My stomach tightened. “Greg, what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” he said, his voice pitching higher than usual. “You’re just tired. Sit down, relax…”

A nervous man in his living room | Source: Midjourney

A nervous man in his living room | Source: Midjourney

Ignoring him, I got up and walked toward the bathroom.

“Wait!” he called after me, panic creeping into his voice. “Where are you going?”

The hallway felt longer than usual as I made my way toward the bathroom. My pulse pounded in my ears, each step making my unease grow.

A woman walking along a corridor | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking along a corridor | Source: Midjourney

When I flung the bathroom door open, the air hit me first. It was warm and humid, like someone had just stepped out of the shower. The mirror was slightly fogged.

My heart pounded as I scanned the room. That’s when I saw it: a tube of crimson lipstick lying on the counter.

I picked it up, holding it in front of him as he approached hesitantly. “Whose is this?”

Greg’s face turned pale. “Uh… it’s yours?”

An angry woman holding her lipstick | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman holding her lipstick | Source: Midjourney

“Don’t insult me,” I snapped. “You know I don’t wear this color.”

Before he could respond, a muffled sneeze came from the bedroom.

My breath caught. I looked at Greg, who was visibly sweating now.

“Care to explain that?” I asked, my voice icy.

A couple arguing in their home | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing in their home | Source: Pexels

He stammered, “It’s nothing. Really. I swear…”

I didn’t wait to hear the rest. With my heart racing, I headed for the bedroom.

Greg scrambled behind me, his voice rang out, desperate. “Wait, don’t!”

Ignoring him, I flung the closet door open.

An angry woman opening her closet | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman opening her closet | Source: Midjourney

A woman crouched there, clutching a pair of high heels to her chest. She looked startled, like a deer caught in headlights. Her hair was mussed, and she was wearing a silk robe that I instantly recognized as mine.

I stared at her, my mind reeling. “Who are you?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I’d ever heard it.

An angry woman shouting at her husband's mistress | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman shouting at her husband’s mistress | Source: Midjourney

She stood up slowly, her face flushing red. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said, brushing at the robe like that would somehow make everything better.

Greg stepped into the room, his hands raised like he was trying to calm a wild animal. “Honey, please, let me explain.”

An apologetic man holding his hands up | Source: Freepik

An apologetic man holding his hands up | Source: Freepik

I turned on him, the fury rising in my chest. “Explain? Explain what, Greg? That there’s a strange woman hiding in our bedroom? Wearing my robe?” I gestured to the woman, who was now fidgeting awkwardly.

“Listen, I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” the woman said weakly.

A shocked woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

“Find out what?” I snapped, my voice shaking. “That my husband is a lying cheat? That he brings his little girlfriend here when I’m at work? Don’t try to defend him!”

“Babe, please, don’t do this,” Greg begged, stepping closer to me.

“Don’t you dare call me ‘babe,'” I hissed, stepping back. “You think you can sweet-talk your way out of this? Pack your things and go. Now. Both of you.”

An angry woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

The woman looked at Greg, wide-eyed. “I thought you said she wouldn’t be home.”

My stomach churned at her words, but I refused to let the tears fall. I turned back to Greg. “Get her out of my house. And don’t bother coming back.”

Greg held his hands up in surrender. “Just give me a chance to explain—”

“Leave!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls.

A woman shouting in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A woman shouting in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

The woman grabbed her shoes and scurried out of the room. Greg hesitated for a moment, his mouth opening as if to argue. But when he saw the look on my face, he seemed to think better of it.

He left without another word, following her out the front door.

I stood in the middle of the bedroom, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on me. For a moment, I felt numb. But then something shifted.

A sad woman in the middle of her living room | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman in the middle of her living room | Source: Midjourney

This was my house. My life. And I wasn’t going to let Greg taint it any longer.

I grabbed a box from the garage and started packing his things. His clothes, his toiletries, even the stupid coffee mug he loved went into the box. I worked quickly, methodically, not letting myself dwell on the memories tied to each item.

As I was finishing up, I called my brother. “Can you come over?” I asked, my voice steady but tired.

A tired woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

A tired woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “What’s going on?”

“Greg’s gone,” I said simply.

My brother arrived half an hour later, his presence a welcome relief. He didn’t ask many questions, just hugged me and helped me carry Greg’s belongings to the front door.

By the time Greg returned the next night, I was ready.

A nervous man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney

A nervous man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney

He walked in, looking sheepish and hopeful. “Can we talk?” he asked softly.

I pointed to the pile of his belongings by the door. “No, Greg. We’re done.”

“Please, just hear me out—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said firmly. “Take your things and go.”

An angry woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

He stood there for a moment, as if he thought I might change my mind. When I didn’t, he sighed, grabbed his things, and walked out the door for the last time.

The next day, I filed for divorce. It felt strange, almost surreal, but also like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

Divorce papers on the table | Source: Pexels

Divorce papers on the table | Source: Pexels

Over the next few months, I started to reclaim my life. I redecorated the house, filling it with things that made me happy. I spent time with friends and family, people who reminded me of who I was before Greg came along.

It wasn’t easy. There were moments when I felt angry, hurt, and lonely. But each day, I felt a little lighter. A little freer.

A woman looking out of her window | Source: Pexels

A woman looking out of her window | Source: Pexels

One evening, as I sat in my newly redecorated living room, I looked around and realized something: I was happy. Truly happy.

Greg’s betrayal had been painful, but it had also been a wake-up call. I had spent so much time trying to make our marriage work that I’d forgotten my own worth. Now, I was finally putting myself first.

A tired woman in her office | Source: Pexels

A tired woman in her office | Source: Pexels

As I closed the chapter on my marriage, I felt hopeful for the future. Whatever came next, I knew I was strong enough to face it.

Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: When a charming stranger knocked on my door, mistaking me for the cleaning lady, I decided to play along. But what began as an amusing misunderstanding quickly unraveled into a shocking revelation.

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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