I Had No Doubt My Son Brought His New Girlfriend on Our Family Trip – Until I Accidentally Saw a Text on His Phone

I planned our family vacation, hoping it would be a chance to bond with my husband and son. Instead, it led me to a betrayal that turned our perfect getaway into a nightmare. What happened there was something I’ll never forget.

Family vacations are supposed to bring you closer together, right? At least, that’s what I’d always believed.

But this time, what started as a cherished family tradition became the worst time of my life.

A woman at the beach | Source: Midjourney

A woman at the beach | Source: Midjourney

Being a working mom has never been easy, but I’ve always prided myself on finding the balance between career and family.

My job keeps me so busy that I sometimes arrive home long after dinner has been eaten and the lights have been dimmed.

Despite that, I’ve always ensured my family had everything they needed.

A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

My husband, Mark, also used to have a steady job, but things changed when he got laid off a couple of years ago. He picked up odd jobs here and there, contributing what he could, but the bulk of our household expenses landed squarely on my shoulders.

Honestly, I didn’t mind. That’s what you do for your family, right?

But lately, I’d started noticing the cracks.

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

My job left me with less time to connect with Mark because he’d already be asleep by the time I got home, making me feel we were growing apart.

However, I didn’t think much about it. I thought we’d reconnect on our annual vacation.

Our annual vacation is a tradition we’ve kept alive through the years. No matter how tough things got financially, we always set aside time to escape for a few days together.

A couple holding their bags | Source: Pexels

A couple holding their bags | Source: Pexels

It was something I cherished because I saw it as a chance to reconnect as a family and make memories that would last a lifetime.

This year, I wanted the trip to be extra special. Especially because lately, Mark had been struggling to find a decent job. I thought this would cheer him up.

“We need this,” I told Mark one evening after a particularly grueling day at work. “A few days away from everything, just the three of us.”

“But I don’t have a job, and—”

“No buts,” I said. “I’ll take care of everything. And I’m sure you’ll land a job when you return from the trip with a fresh mind. Don’t worry, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled. “Thank you for all that you do for us. I’m sure Eric will love the trip too.”

A man sitting in his house | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in his house | Source: Midjourney

Our son, Eric, is 20 and in college. Like most kids his age, he’s absorbed in his world of parties, friends, and social media. But when I called him to share our vacation plans, he sounded genuinely excited.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m in!” he exclaimed. “Can’t wait to spend time with you guys.”

It warmed my heart to hear that.

A day later, though, Eric called me back with a request. “Mom, would it be okay if I brought my girlfriend along?”

His girlfriend? That was news to me.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Uh, I guess so,” I said hesitantly. “What’s her name?”

“Jessica,” he said. “She’s great. You’ll love her.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about the idea. Our vacations had always been just the three of us, and adding a new person, someone I’d never met, felt strange. But Eric seemed so excited, and I didn’t want to dampen his enthusiasm. He told me he’d been seeing her for three months now.

“Alright,” I said finally. “She’s welcome to join us.”

As the trip approached, I threw myself into planning. I wanted everything to be perfect.

A woman writing in her diary | Source: Pexels

A woman writing in her diary | Source: Pexels

Little did I know, this vacation wouldn’t be about bonding or relaxation. It would turn out to be one of my worst nightmares.

Jessica joined us at the airport, looking like she had just stepped out of a magazine. Her sleek outfit, perfectly styled hair, and radiant smile immediately caught everyone’s attention, including Mark’s.

He seemed particularly charmed by her, pulling her suitcase and even complimenting her choice of shoes. I brushed it off as politeness.

After all, she was Eric’s girlfriend. What was there to worry about?

A young woman | Source: Midjourney

A young woman | Source: Midjourney

At first, Jessica seemed nice, but soon, little things started to feel weird.

Over dinner on our first night, I thought I’d try bonding with her.

“Jessica, have you had a chance to see Eric play basketball yet?” I asked.

Her eyes widened, and she hesitated before replying, “Basketball? We’ve never talked about that.”

My eyebrows shot up. Basketball had been Eric’s passion for years. His social media was plastered with team photos and game highlights. How could his girlfriend of three months not know that?

I glanced at Eric, who was busy texting and didn’t notice.

A man using his phone | Source: Pexels

A man using his phone | Source: Pexels

The next day, Eric suggested we all try jet-skiing. His face lit up as he described how much fun it would be, but Jessica frowned.

“I’m not really into water sports,” she said.

Wait… did Eric not know that already? I thought. That’s strange.

At that point, Eric’s excitement dimmed, but he quickly recovered and suggested we should go sightseeing instead.

Later, while everyone relaxed by the pool, I overheard Jessica asking Eric about his major.

“Biology, right?” she said with a giggle. “I can’t believe I keep forgetting that!”

A young woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A young woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

My heart skipped a beat. What was going on here?

This young woman who claimed to be my son’s girlfriend had no idea about his passion for basketball. She didn’t know his major. And she didn’t even seem particularly interested in learning. And Eric? He was doting on her constantly, getting her drinks, carrying her bag, and even taking over the sun lounger she didn’t like.

Calm down, Colleen, I told myself. Don’t overthink. Relationships are complicated, and maybe Jessica just needed more time to connect with Eric.

Still, something didn’t sit right.

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

Midway through the trip, I was looking for sunscreen in Eric’s suitcase when I stumbled upon a small velvet box. Curious, I opened it to find a stunning diamond necklace.

It looked SUPER EXPENSIVE, and I couldn’t believe my son had bought something so elegant for his girlfriend.

How did Eric manage to save up for it? I thought.

Later that evening, I brought it up casually.

“Eric, I found the necklace in your suitcase,” I smiled. “It’s beautiful, and I’m sure Jessica’s going to love it.”

A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

He looked at me with wide eyes as if I’d said something I wasn’t supposed to say.

“Yeah, I-I,” he stammered. “I’ve been saving for a while. I, uh, I really liked it and I thought I’d get it for her. After all, she deserves it.”

“That’s amazing!” I faked a smile. “I’m so proud of you!”

I wasn’t ready to believe that my son, a college student on a tight budget, could afford something so extravagant. I decided not to press him, but my gut told me there was more to this necklace than he was letting on.

A silver pendant with diamonds | Source: Pexels

A silver pendant with diamonds | Source: Pexels

Jessica’s indifference to Eric’s life, her lack of genuine interest, and now this mystery necklace? Things weren’t adding up.

On the final morning of our trip, the hotel was quiet. Mark was having breakfast downstairs, and Eric and Jessica were lounging by the pool.

I stayed in the suite, sipping coffee and trying not to overanalyze the situation.

That’s when Eric’s phone, left charging on the counter, buzzed with a notification.

It was a text. I glanced at it absentmindedly, but my eyes widened when I read it.

A phone on a table | Source: Pexels

A phone on a table | Source: Pexels

It read, +$500 to our deal. Thanks for covering up for me with the necklace.

The sender? Mark. My husband.

My stomach dropped as my mind tried to connect the dots. I immediately grabbed Eric’s phone and entered the passcode (I knew it because I’d watched him unlock his phone once).

I knew it wasn’t right to invade his privacy, but something told me I had to see more.

The message thread unraveled a web of betrayal I couldn’t have imagined.

A woman reading messages on her son's phone | Source: Pexels

A woman reading messages on her son’s phone | Source: Pexels

Mark and Eric had been plotting for weeks, and Jessica wasn’t Eric’s girlfriend. She was Mark’s mistress.

Eric had been pretending to date her as a cover so Mark could bring her on the trip without arousing my suspicion. The “deal” they had struck involved money Mark had promised Eric in exchange for his silence. And the necklace? Mark had paid for it with my money.

I stared at the screen as dozens of questions popped into my mind.

A woman looking at her son's phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her son’s phone | Source: Midjourney

How could Mark do this to me? And Eric? Why did he go along with it? They thought they could betray me like this?

I was angry. I was heartbroken.

But I knew I couldn’t let this slide.

That evening, I called everyone to dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. I dressed carefully, choosing a nice dress and pairing it with the diamond necklace my husband had bought for his mistress.

I wanted to look composed and strong, even if I felt like falling apart inside.

A woman wearing a necklace | Source: Midjourney

A woman wearing a necklace | Source: Midjourney

When I walked into the restaurant, they turned to look at me. Jessica’s eyes lit up, but her smile faded when she realized I was wearing her necklace.

“Mom, why are you wearing Jessica’s necklace?” Eric asked. “That’s her gift.”

“Oh, really?” I chuckled. “That’s odd. Because your dad bought it with MY MONEY.”

Mark’s face turned pale.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” he stammered. “What—”

A man sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Stop pretending, Mark,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Then, I turned to Jessica. “I don’t know what my husband has told you, but he’s currently unemployed. He got laid off years ago, and since then, he’s been struggling to find a decent job.”

“But, I—”

“Shh!” I cut her off. “Let me finish. You see, I’ve been paying for everything ever since he lost his job. Everything including this trip, the necklace, and even the money he promised Eric to play along with this charade.”

“Mom, I didn’t mean to… I mean—” Eric began.

A young man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A young man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“I never thought my son could do something like this,” I glanced at Eric as tears streamed down my cheeks. “I had no idea I was paying my own son to lie to me.”

That was the last thing I said to the three of them. I stood up and walked back to my room.

The next day, I flew home alone. Eric and Mark kept calling me, but I refused to answer any of their calls.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A week later, I filed for divorce. Jessica vanished when she realized Mark had no money, leaving him humiliated and alone.

As for Eric, we’re working on rebuilding our relationship. He made a mistake, but he’s still my son, and I’m hoping he won’t do anything like this again. I guess he just wanted some money and didn’t really care what his father wanted him to do. I pray he grows up and understands what Mark did that day was totally unacceptable.

I hope Eric never follows in his father’s footsteps.

The Mothers of a Couple Turned Thanksgiving Into a Living Hell for Their Newlywed Kids — Story of the Day

Two stubborn mothers arrive at Thanksgiving with their own plans, sparking a rivalry that fills the kitchen with smoke and tension. As surprises unfold, the family faces one unforgettable holiday where tempers flare, loyalties are tested, and a last-minute twist reminds them of what truly matters.

Thick, dark smoke swirled through the house, making it hard to breathe. Kira coughed, struggling to take in air as she pressed her hand over her mouth. Her other hand protectively rested on her pregnant belly, and she glanced at Michael with wide, anxious eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

They moved cautiously toward the kitchen, where the thickest smoke seemed to gather. There, like two children caught in the act, stood Margaret and Rebecca, each looking as startled as the other.

Their faces were smudged with black soot, their eyes wide and guilty, while the oven door hung open, revealing a turkey charred beyond recognition.

“What is going on here?!” Michael yelled, his eyes darting from his mother to his mother-in-law, then to the smoky kitchen around them.

“This old woman—” Rebecca started, pointing an accusing finger at Margaret.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Old woman? Look who’s talking!” Margaret interrupted, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms.

Rebecca glared. “If you hadn’t barged in here—”

Margaret shot back, “Barged in? You’re the one who can’t cook!”

Their voices grew louder, words tumbling over each other, turning into a mess of jabs and shouts, each trying to talk over the other. Insults flew back and forth as if they’d forgotten anyone else was there.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Please, stop,” Kira whispered, clutching her belly, but they didn’t hear her.

Kira winced, feeling a sharp pain. “Stop! I’m in labor!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Both women froze, their faces stunned. Then, suddenly, the turkey burst into flames in the oven. Margaret and Rebecca shrieked, grabbing towels to fight the fire, while Kira moaned in pain, and Michael stood there, helpless, eyes wide in shock.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

One Week Earlier…

Margaret drove up to her daughter Kira’s house, feeling a spark of excitement. She held a fresh-baked pie on her lap, proud of the surprise she had planned.

Without calling ahead, she parked, stepped out, and walked up the front steps, smiling at the thought of catching them off guard. She knocked firmly, and before long, Michael opened the door, blinking in surprise.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Margaret… what are you doing here?” he asked, blinking in surprise.

“I decided to surprise you,” Margaret replied cheerfully, holding out a pie. “I thought a little treat might be nice.”

Michael took the pie, glancing back toward the kitchen, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “Thanks, Margaret. Um, come on in.”

Margaret stepped inside, slipping off her coat, and instantly heard voices from the kitchen. She paused, recognizing the tone of Rebecca’s voice. With a raised brow, she followed the sound and found Kira seated, listening as Rebecca talked in her usual, commanding way.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca was in mid-sentence, her words calm yet firm. “It’s important to establish good habits early. Babies need a routine, structure.”

Margaret felt a surge of irritation. “Why are you bothering my daughter?”

Rebecca looked over, blinking, and gave a tight smile. “I’m just giving her a little parenting advice.”

Margaret scoffed. “Parenting advice? And what do you know about raising kids?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca’s smile vanished. “Excuse me? Your daughter is married to my son, after all. I think that gives me some right to speak.”

“Oh, well, apologies accepted,” Margaret said with a dry laugh. “Though I recall your son didn’t even know how to wash his own dishes when he started dating Kira. I had to teach him myself!”

“How dare you!” Rebecca snapped.

Michael stepped into the kitchen. “Please, calm down. Let’s keep things peaceful, all right?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Kira gave a tired sigh. “There will be a little baby in this house soon,” she said softly. “We want a positive atmosphere here. No fighting.”

Margaret nodded, sitting down at the table. “You’re right, Kira. I want the best for this family. And, well, since we’re all here, even if some people weren’t exactly welcome…” Her gaze shifted pointedly to Rebecca. “Why don’t we talk about Thanksgiving? I’ll make my signature turkey—”

Rebecca cut her off. “Actually, I was going to suggest we celebrate at my place this year.”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “We celebrate at my place every year. It’s tradition.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca crossed her arms. “Traditions can change. I’m tired of sneezing from your silly cat.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow. “Better to have a cat than to celebrate in a snake’s den.”

Rebecca’s voice rose. “Who do you think you are?!”

Kira sighed heavily, covering her face with her hands. Michael gently patted her back. “I think we should celebrate here this year,” he offered quickly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What?” Kira blurted, surprised.

“It’ll be fine, Kira. I’ll help you with the cooking,” Michael assured her.

Margaret shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“It’s better than all this arguing,” Michael replied.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Kira nodded wearily. “He’s right. My head is pounding.”

Rebecca softened a little. “At least let me help. I can make the turkey.”

Kira sighed. “Fine.”

“But what about my signature turkey?” Margaret asked, hurt.

“Just this once, Mom,” Kira pleaded.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Margaret paused, then gave in with a nod. “All right. For you, Kira,” she said, though a secret plan was already forming in her mind.

On Thanksgiving morning, Margaret rose early, her mind set on her plan. She was ready, having spent the entire week gathering the perfect ingredients. She packed up her turkey, herbs, spices, and everything needed to create her well-loved recipe.

She carefully tucked everything into a basket and drove over to Kira and Michael’s house. She knew Kira and Michael were out, so there was no time to waste.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She reached their front door, taking out the spare key Kira had given her, meant only for emergencies. But today, Margaret felt this was important enough.

As she stepped inside, she paused, listening. A muffled noise drifted from the kitchen—pots clanging, cabinets closing. Margaret froze, her mind racing. Kira and Michael’s car wasn’t outside, so it wasn’t them.

Her eyes darted around, and she spotted an umbrella by the door. She grabbed it firmly and walked toward the kitchen, her heart pounding. She raised the umbrella as she peeked inside.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

There, bent over the counter, was Rebecca, elbows deep in turkey preparations. Margaret stopped short, barely holding back from swinging the umbrella.

“Are you completely insane?!” Rebecca shouted.

Margaret glared back. “I thought you were a burglar! What are you even doing here?”

Rebecca crossed her arms. “Kira gave me permission to cook here. But what are you doing here?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Margaret calmly set her basket on the counter. “I’m here to make my turkey.”

Rebecca scowled. “That wasn’t the deal.”

Margaret smirked. “What’s wrong? Afraid mine will taste better?”

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “We’ll just have to see about that!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The kitchen was soon filled with the sounds of clanking pots and muttered complaints as Margaret and Rebecca worked side by side, each determined to make the best turkey.

They bumped elbows, snatched spices from each other’s reach, and exchanged pointed glares. Margaret sprinkled her herbs, pretending not to notice when Rebecca nudged her arm slightly, causing salt to spill. Rebecca hummed loudly, ignoring Margaret’s muttering about “rookie mistakes.”

Finally, Margaret finished her turkey, carefully placing it in the oven with a triumphant grin. She noticed the irritation in Rebecca’s eyes but ignored it, brushing her hands off as she headed to the living room to relax.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After a while, a strange, burnt smell filled the air. Alarmed, Margaret rushed back to the kitchen, finding Rebecca desperately waving a towel, trying to fan away thick smoke billowing from the oven.

“What did you do?!” Margaret shouted, glaring at Rebecca.

Rebecca crossed her arms. “I didn’t do anything! Maybe you don’t know how to cook.”

Margaret stormed over to the oven, eyeing the controls. She noticed the temperature had been changed. “You did this! You’re trying to ruin my turkey!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca leaned in with a smirk. “I didn’t touch it. If it’s ruined, it’s your own fault!”

Margaret pulled open the oven door, only to be hit by a wave of thick, black smoke that poured out into the kitchen. She coughed and squinted, trying to see through the haze.

There, in the center of the oven, was her turkey—charred to a solid black lump. It looked nothing like the golden masterpiece she’d imagined.

Moments later, Michael and Kira walked through the door, both stopping short at the smoky mess. Instantly, Margaret and Rebecca began shouting, each blaming the other.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But suddenly, Kira doubled over, clutching her belly. “Michael… it’s time!” she gasped, gripping his hand.

As Michael guided Kira to the car, Margaret watched, her heart pounding with worry for her daughter.

“Take a cab,” Michael said firmly. “I don’t want either of you stressing Kira out with more arguments.” With that, he helped Kira into the car, then got in and drove off without waiting for their reply.

Margaret huffed. “Well, we can take my car.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca nodded, looking tired herself. “Fine, let’s go.”

When they arrived at the hospital, the nurse informed them that only Michael was allowed in the room with Kira. Margaret and Rebecca found two chairs in the hallway and sat down, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them. They fidgeted, glanced around, and avoided each other’s eyes.

Finally, Margaret cleared her throat. “I think we need a truce,” she said quietly. “We almost ruined Thanksgiving, and if Kira hadn’t gone into labor… well, we would have ruined it for her.”

Rebecca nodded slowly, her face softening. “I agree. I don’t want my granddaughter thinking her grandma’s a nutcase.” She paused, then looked at Margaret directly. “So, peace?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Margaret nodded, extending her hand. “Peace,” she repeated.

Rebecca took her hand, giving it a firm shake.

Just then, Michael stepped out, smiling. “You can see your granddaughter now,” he said, motioning for them to come in.

Both women leapt up, hurrying to the room. Inside, Kira lay on the hospital bed, smiling, with a tiny bundle cradled in her arms.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Rebecca leaned over, her eyes filling with tears. “She’s beautiful,” she said softly.

Margaret nodded, reaching out to touch the baby’s tiny hand. “And she looks like both of you,” she added with a smile.

A nurse walked in, carrying a tray. “Dinner for the new mom,” she announced, setting it on the bedside table. “Since it’s Thanksgiving, we went with a holiday-themed meal.” The tray held slices of turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green peas.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Margaret chuckled. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new Thanksgiving tradition.”

“No way!” Kira exclaimed with a laugh. “I am not going through this every year!”

Everyone burst out laughing, and though it wasn’t the Thanksgiving they’d planned, it was the one they truly needed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When Rick returns to his small hometown after his grandmother’s passing, he inherits her old bookstore—a place full of memories from his childhood. But as he starts cleaning, he uncovers hidden secrets about his grandmother’s life that change everything. Read the full story here.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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