Three years of marriage, two years of dating & I thought I knew my husband. He was never the v!0lent type until the night he found his sister in bed with our neighbor.
They’ve always been close. She spends more time at our house than at their parents. My husband pays her b1lls, covers her tuition & buys her everything from the latest iPhone to designer clothes. Sometimes, l’d feel very jealous as my own brothers only took from me.
But that night, he became someone I didn’t recognize. He pounced on our neighbor, who’d been like a brother to him, and nearly be@t him to de@th. It took the strength of multiple neighbors to pull him off, and even then, his rage was unyielding. He screamed, “In my house?! Sleeping with my sister?!”
After they dragged our bl00died neighbor away, my husband turned on his sister. “How could you?” he shouted. “After everything l’ve done for you, how could you do this?” She sobbed & begged, but he was inconsolable, his face wet with tears. I eventually gave up trying to calm him and left them alone.
Later that night, he came home stark drunk, disheveled, and barely coherent. I told myself it was the shock, the betr@yal. But still, I couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at me.
The next morning, I found him crying alone in the bathroom. Over the next few days, he stayed out late, always coming home drunk, his mood spiraling deeper.
One night, as he lay passed out, I took his phone, needing answers. Nothing. No chats with his sister. They were close, closer than we were. It was impossible that they hadn’t been talking. As I was about to put the phone down, a message popped up. I opened it.
It was her. Begging his forgiveness for “cheating on him” with the neighbor. Swe@ring it only happened once. “I didn’t enjoy it like I do with you,” she wrote.
My bl00d turned to ice. Another message followed: “I miss you. If you kee yourself like you said, I’ll do it too. I can’t live without you.”
I felt sick. This was his bl00d sister. Since I’d known him, they’d been inseparable. How long had this… this h0rr0r.
Then she sent another message-her núd£ photo. “I’m tired of waiting,” she wrote. “Come when she’s asleep. I need you.”
Numb, I forwarded the messages to myself and put his phone back.
They want to die? Fine. With the evidence I have, no one will question it when they “take their own lives.” I’ll leave behind the proof of their secret— a story of betrayal and m@dness.
Tonight, my husband and his sister will fall into a sleep they won’t wake from. And the world will finally see the twisted truth they tried to hide.
