My Husband Left Me With His Dying Mother For A “business Trip,” But I Found Photos Of Him In Miami With Another Woman. He Thinks He’s Inheriting Everything, But My Mother-in-law Left It All To Me. How Do I Break The News?
The Greedy Return
Two days later, Michael appeared at the door of our suburban house. He was dragging his designer suitcase and entered with an air of exhaustion, feigning the fatigue of a long journey from Europe. In reality, he had only flown two hours from Miami.
The moment he saw me, he did not ask how I was, nor did he bother to light a candle for his mother at the small altar I had improvised. The first question that came out of his mouth as his eyes greedily scanned the room was, “Where is the metal box and the papers Mom left? Show them to me now.”
I was sitting on the sofa, fiddling with a cup of cold tea, calmly observing the man I once called my husband. Only a few days had passed, but he still looked impeccable, with a sun-kissed tan that contrasted sharply with my own haggard and exhausted appearance after the funeral.
I put the cup down on the table and pushed a thick stack of papers toward him. Michael pounced on them like a hungry beast. But as he opened them, the greedy smile on his face vanished, replaced by astonishment and disbelief.
Inside there were no deeds or wills, but a pile of hospital bills, receipts for medication, funeral expenses, and cremation costs. I had stapled them all together neatly. The total came to $22,000.
Michael looked up, glaring at me. “What is this? What are you trying to pull?”
I looked him straight in the eye, my voice firm. “These are all the expenses for Mom’s treatment for the last three months and the cost of the funeral. I had to empty my savings account and borrow money from friends to cover everything. You are her only son and the one with the good job abroad. You have to pay this amount to settle the debts. Then we can talk about the inheritance.”
Michael threw the bills on the table, his face flushing red. “Are you crazy? I just got here. I have not been paid for the project yet. Where am I supposed to get that much cash right now? Besides, Mom was in a public hospital. How could it be so expensive? Medications outside the formulary, specific treatments… did you think they were cheap?”
I growled, the resentment that had been building for so long about to erupt. “While you were vacationing in your ‘Germany,’ I had to scrape together money from everywhere so Mom could pass away in peace. You have not contributed a single cent or a single day of care, and now the first thing you ask about is the inheritance?”
Michael was caught; his gaze became evasive. He softened his tone, trying to reclaim his image as a responsible husband. “I know you had a tough time, but we will sort out the money. The important thing now is Mom’s will. I need to know what she left so I can take care of everything properly. Give me the real box.”
I saw through his dark soul. He had no intention of paying the debts; he just wanted to take whatever was left. His greed and indifference were now laid bare without the cloak of respectability he used to wear.
“The box and the important documents are in a safe in her hometown.” I stood up, brushing off my sleeves as if to remove some invisible dirt. “If you want to see them, you will have to come with me there. Before Mom’s spirit, we will talk things out clearly.”
Michael frowned, annoyed at having to travel again, but his greed won. He nodded. “Fine, let’s go. I need to light a candle for Mom too.”
What a hypocritical thing to say. He was not going back for his mother; he was going back because he believed a treasure was hidden under the roof of that humble house.
The Shocking Truth Revealed
The house in the small town greeted us with a sullen silence. The afternoon sun cast long, uneven patches of light across the old tile floor, dust motes dancing in the air thick with the scent of time.
I led Michael to the back room where I had placed a small safe I had just bought to store the important evidence. Michael stood behind me, his breathing shallow and anxious.
I turned the combination dial. The lock clicked open. I took out the yellowed adoption certificate and my mother-in-law’s handwritten letter and placed them on the wooden table in the center of the room.
“Look, this is what Mom wanted you to know.”
Michael picked up the paper. At first, his expression was one of curiosity, but soon his hands began to tremble violently. His face drained of color, going from red to a deathly pale. He read the word “adoptive” over and over.
He stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. “What… what is this? This is a joke. This paper is fake.”
I calmly poured a glass of water, my voice cold. “It is a document with the official seal of the county clerk’s office from that time. Look at it closely. Mom kept this secret for over 30 years. You are not her biological son. You are a baby who was abandoned at the clinic and she took you in.”
“Impossible! You are lying!” Michael shouted, crumpling the paper in his hand. “I am her only son. She spoiled me rotten. How could I be adopted?”
“It is precisely because she loved you more than her own flesh and blood that she hid it from you your whole life.” I looked him straight in the eye, my gaze sharp. “But how did you repay her? You abandoned her on her deathbed to go party with your mistress. You let her die alone.”
Michael froze. His initial aggression vanished in the face of the overwhelming secret and the raw truth I had just revealed. He collapsed into a chair, clutching his head, his face a mask of confusion. His pride as the only son, the authority he had always assumed to decide everything in the family, crumbled in an instant.
