I was the idiot who babysat my sister’s kids while she slept with my husband.
But the secret she thought I’d take to my grave?
That became my sweetest revenge.
Everyone said I was kind. Too kind. I believed if I gave enough love, it would come back to me. I believed marriage meant loyalty.
After the wedding, that belief faded. And so did Jack.
He spent his evenings stretched out on the couch, phone glowing in his face, barely noticing me anymore. We stopped taking walks. Stopped going out. He didn’t even glance up when I stood by the door in my coat, hoping he’d ask where I was going.
That night, I tried anyway.
“Jack, remember when we used to dream about weekend trips?”
He didn’t look up. “Why are you doing this now? I have work tomorrow.”
“We don’t even eat together anymore.”
He shrugged. “You’re here. I’m here. What more do you want?”
His phone buzzed. He smiled at the screen.
Mine buzzed too.
Linda.
“Marie! Please tell me you can watch the kids tonight. You’re my angel!”
“Linda, I was there until midnight the other night…”
“Oh, don’t start. I don’t even have a husband anymore. I need to build a life before I get old and dry up. You have Jack.”
I swallowed. “Fine. Thirty minutes.”
“Knew it! You’re the best.”
She hung up without waiting for an answer.
Jack didn’t even notice me leave.
Linda’s house was quiet. The kids were already asleep. I sat on the couch, tea going cold in my hands. Midnight passed. Then one. Then two.
Seven hours.
I checked on the kids. Billy was tucked in. Cindy slept with her old stuffed monkey. Tommy lay sprawled across his dinosaur pillow.
I loved them.
Then my chest tightened.
Not now.
I reached for my inhaler. Empty.
Panic crawled up my spine. I found an old one in my bag—nearly finished. Breathing hurt. I stepped outside for air.
Linda’s neighbor Gloria was watering her plants.
“Marie? Are you alright?”
“I—I’m out of my asthma meds,” I gasped. “I need to go home. Can you stay with the kids?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Go. I’ll watch them.”
I drove home shaking, one thought pounding in my head: Just get the inhaler.
The house was dark.
Except for the bedroom light.
And Linda’s car.
Laughter floated down the stairs. A man’s voice. A woman’s. From the bathroom.
I moved slowly, dread soaking into my bones.
Clothes were scattered on the stairs. Jack’s shirt. Linda’s bracelet.
I threw the bathroom door open.
They were in the tub. Wine glasses. Soap bubbles. Laughing.
“Are you out of your minds?” I screamed.
Linda stared at me like I’d interrupted her evening.
“Marie, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be with the kids.”
“I trusted you with my husband!”
Jack lifted his glass. “Guess I picked the wrong sister.”
My chest burned. I ran to the bedroom, grabbed my inhaler, collapsed to the floor, gasping.
Their laughter echoed through the walls.
That was the moment the soft, forgiving Marie died.
And someone else stood up.
At sunrise, I returned to Linda’s house.
The kids were still asleep. Cindy’s hair stuck to her cheek. Tommy drooled on his pillow.
People always said he didn’t look like Linda. Or her ex.
I brushed his hair gently and pulled one blond strand from his brush. Just one.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This isn’t about you.”
Gloria slept in a chair. I woke her and broke down.
“They think I’m weak,” I sobbed. “They think I’ll forgive them.”
Her grip tightened on my shoulder. “Then don’t.”
Two weeks later, the envelope arrived.
DNA results.
70% match.
Enough to ruin lives. Not enough to reveal the whole truth. I folded the paper and slipped it into my purse.
Two nights earlier, Jack had packed his suitcase.
“I’m moving in with Linda.”
I smiled. “Good luck.”
That evening, I knocked on their door.
Linda opened it in silk, lipstick perfect. Jack stood behind her with a beer.
“We need to talk.”
I sat on their white sofa.
“Jack, you ever wonder who Tommy’s father is?”
“I don’t care,” he snapped.
I handed him the paper.
His face drained. “Seventy percent? Is he mine?”
Linda lunged. “She’s lying!”
“Tell me the truth!” Jack shouted.
Linda laughed—sharp and ugly.
“You think I’d stay broke? Tommy’s father is your brother. Rick.”
Silence exploded.
“He pays me,” she continued. “Monthly. For my silence. Clothes. Trips. Everything. You were just a bonus, Jack.”
Jack looked sick.
“You used me.”
“You’re not special,” she sneered. “You’re not even the favorite son.”
I stood. “Looks like you picked the wrong sister after all.”
The kids peeked from the hallway. I knelt and smiled.
“Coats on. Ice cream time.”
Linda screamed behind me. Jack’s voice shattered.
Outside, the sun warmed my face. Two small hands slipped into mine.
“Sister’s biggest secret,” I thought.
“My sweetest revenge.”
“Chocolate or strawberry?” I asked.
And for the first time in a long time, I smiled.
