My Husband Cheated with His Sister-in-Law

My little grandson’s childish yet chilling words echoed in my ears.

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

If I hadn’t gotten up tonight to drink water, I never would’ve discovered the peanut oil he had poured on the stairs.

If I had walked down those steps tomorrow morning...

I didn’t dare imagine what might have happened.

My most beloved grandson—just because I refused to buy him ice cream—wanted me dead.

I let out a bitter laugh.

The last bit of affection in my heart vanished completely.

This house, and everyone inside it, filled me with suffocating disgust.

I returned to my room. Just then, the real estate agent called. A buyer had been found—ready to pay 9.5 million in full.

The handover and contract signing would take place in four days.

I agreed without hesitation.

Four days from now—the exact day Jameson was holding the golden wedding celebration for Sabrina.

With everyone gone to play their happy family, I could settle the deal quietly.

By the time they came back from their wedding, they would find the house gone.

I also booked a plane ticket to leave the country that same day.

By the time they realized anything, I’d be far away—untraceable.

The private investigator had given me all the photos.

Dozens, nearly hundreds of snapshots capturing Jameson and Sabrina’s affair—intimate moments, hotel records, spanning from their youth to now.

I stared at the images. At first, I laughed. Then, tears slowly streamed down my cheeks.

I wasn’t crying over his betrayal—I was grieving the fifty years I had wasted on a man like him.

—

On the fourth day, for the first time in fifty years, I allowed myself to sleep in.

I didn’t get up to make breakfast for the family.

But I was jolted awake by my daughter-in-law’s shrill shouting and furious pounding on the door.

“Mom! Open the door! Hurry up!”

When I opened it, she stood there fuming with anger.

Without even a greeting, she snapped at me, “Why didn’t you make breakfast? The whole family went to work hungry because of you!”

I looked at this woman—who hadn’t cooked a single breakfast in fifty years—and without a word, I slapped her hard across the face.

Then I gave a cold laugh and said, “If I don’t make breakfast, can’t you?”

She never expected me to hit her. Eyes brimming with tears, she ran off to complain to my son and husband.

When I went downstairs, they were all waiting—Jameson, my son, and my grandson, who was wailing dramatically in the corner.

Jameson barked, “Can you stop throwing tantrums? Look at what this house has become!”

“You don’t cook, you don’t do laundry, and now you’re even hitting your daughter-in-law. What kind of mother-in-law are you?”

I let out a cold laugh. “Then let Sabrina be the mother-in-law.”

“Starting today, I’m done. No more housework. Whoever wants to do it can do it!”

Jameson’s face turned dark with rage. “Julienne, don’t regret this! Even if you beg me later to take you back, I won’t forgive you!”

My son chimed in bitterly, “If you’re going to be this heartless, don’t expect me to take care of you in your old age.”

I said nothing. Just turned and went upstairs.

In a few minutes, I packed everything I needed, dragging my suitcase down the stairs toward the door.

As I passed through the living room, Sabrina happened to come in.

Seeing me with my suitcase, she feigned surprise. “Oh? Leaving already?”

“You’re all too much. How can you let Julienne go out alone at her age?”

Jameson’s voice dripped with mockery. “She’s old but still wants to run away from home—who can stop her?”

No one tried to stop me.

No one asked where I was going.

They were just waiting to see me fail.

As I pulled my suitcase through the front door, Jameson suddenly called out behind me, like he remembered something.

“Don’t forget—you’d better show up to help at Sabrina’s wedding in three days! Otherwise, don’t even dream about ever coming back to this house again!”