My MIL Needed Chemotherapy – A Year Later, I Learned Where the Money Really Went

I had never snooped through Ethan’s things before, but now, I felt as if my entire life depended on it. He never thought I would need to look. In a folder marked “Finances,” I found it.

There were documents labeled “House.” And along with it were mortgage pre-approvals and interior mock-ups. And there, next to Ethan’s name, the co-applicant: Jenna M. My stomach turned.

“Who the heck is that?” I murmured to myself. I dug even deeper, desperate for context, and found the emails. At first, they seemed simple enough — just logistics, really.

There were notes about furniture deliveries, landscaping quotes, and even a quote about a hot tub installation. Then I stumbled on the emails that made bile rise in my throat. “Kate suspects nothing.

Haha.”

“Money’s coming in steadily. We’ll be covered soon.”

“Soon the house will be ours and we can live our dream!”

My hands shook so violently that I nearly deleted all the emails. After a while, I snapped the laptop shut and stood frozen in the dark office, my breath shallow, my legs unsteady.

Somehow, I made it back to bed, lying beside a man who had been orchestrating my humiliation for over a year. The next morning, I forced myself into my routine. I brewed coffee, scrambled eggs, and toasted bread.

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