My Perfect Sister Stole My Husband While I Was Pregnant but Soon Regretted It and Begged Me for Help – Story of the Day

When I pulled into the driveway, I turned off the engine and took a deep breath. I needed to calm down.

But the moment I stepped inside, something felt wrong. Then, I heard noises coming from upstairs.

Soft, muffled sounds that shouldn’t have been there. My heart pounded as I climbed the stairs.

My hands shook as I reached for the bedroom door. I swung it open and froze.

Henry and Stacy. In my bed.

Tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t move. For a moment, the world stopped. Henry was the first to see me.

His eyes went wide with panic as he jumped out of bed, scrambling to put on his clothes.

“May! What are you doing here?!” Henry shouted, his voice filled with panic.

I couldn’t believe my ears. “What am I doing in my own house?!” I screamed, my voice shaking.

“You were supposed to be at your grandmother’s!” Henry barked, pulling on his shirt.

“That’s all you have to say?” I asked, my eyes filling with tears. “I just caught you in bed with my sister, and that’s your excuse?”

“So what?” Stacy said, sitting up in bed. A smirk spread across her face. “I’m better than you. I always have been. No wonder Henry realized it too.”

“How dare you!” I yelled, my anger boiling over.

“But it’s true,” Henry said, his tone cold and cruel. “Stacy is prettier. She always looks good, wears makeup, and stays in shape.”

“And she doesn’t work!” I snapped.

“Having a job doesn’t matter,” Henry said. “And let’s be honest. You’ve gained weight.”

My stomach dropped. My hand instinctively touched my belly. “Because I’m pregnant! With your child!” I screamed.

Henry’s face hardened. “I don’t know if that’s true,” he said. “Stacy and I talked. I’m not sure the baby is mine.”

My mouth fell open. I could barely breathe. “Are you kidding me?! You’ve been the one cheating on me over and over!”

“Maybe you cheated too,” Henry said, crossing his arms like he was the victim.

“Yeah, right!” Stacy chimed in, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Shut up!” I yelled at her, my hands shaking.

“She can say whatever she wants,” Henry said. “I’m done with this. I’m filing for divorce.”

“Are you serious?!” I screamed, my heart pounding.

“Yes. Pack your things and leave by tonight,” Henry said coldly. “The house is in my name.”

I scoffed, wiping my tears. “We’ll see how long you last without me,” I said, then turned to Stacy. “Just so you know, he’s been unemployed for six months. He can’t even find a job.”

“He still bought me expensive gifts,” Stacy said with a smug grin.

“I wonder whose money he used!” I shot back, my voice full of disgust.

I packed my things, stuffing clothes into bags. By the evening, I was gone. I had nowhere else to go.

My heart shattered as I drove to the only place I knew I’d be safe. I stood at my grandmother’s door and rang the bell.

When she opened it and saw me, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears streamed down my face as I whispered, “You were right.”

She pulled me into her arms. “There, there, everything will be fine,” she said softly, stroking my hair.

Henry and I divorced, and he took everything. The house, the furniture, and even some of the things I bought myself.

All I had left was my car. I didn’t care. I was just glad to be free from him. My grandmother was the only one who stood by me through everything.

She gave me a place to stay and made sure I didn’t feel alone. I was incredibly grateful for her love and support.

One evening, as I was folding laundry, my grandmother walked into the room. Her face looked serious. She sat down beside me and took my hand. “May, we need to talk,” she said softly.

My heart sank. “What happened?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I guess I have to,” she said. “When I started feeling unwell, the doctor said I had only a few years left.”

I froze. “What?…” I whispered, my throat tightening.

“I didn’t say anything because I thought I had more time,” she said gently. “But now… the doctor says I only have a few months.”

My eyes filled with tears. “No… this can’t be happening,” I murmured.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to help you with my great-grandchild,” she said, her voice full of sadness.

“Please, Grandma,” I begged. “Promise me you’ll live long enough to meet him. Promise me you’ll see him.” Tears streamed down my face as I hugged her tightly.

She stroked my hair, her touch gentle. “I can’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep,” she whispered.

With each passing day, my grandmother grew weaker. I could see it in her eyes and the way her hands trembled.

I tried to spend as much time with her as possible. I stopped going to the office and started working from home.

I wanted to be close in case she needed me. I cooked her favorite meals, even though she barely ate.