Accusing someone of cheating is a big deal and can really damage trust between partners. A woman got accused of cheating because her baby had an unusual eye color — she decided to take a DNA test to prove she was faithful, but what she discovered was totally unexpected.
They discovered a family secret that had been buried in the past.
So, this 25-year-old woman recently had a baby girl, and she noticed something interesting about her daughter’s appearance. «Our daughter has green eyes, unlike everyone else in our families My MIL thinks I cheated,» she wrote. Her husband reassured her, saying it was probably just random genetic things.
This lady’s husband totally trusts her, which is awesome. But his mom and the rest of the family won’t stop going on about their daughter’s green eyes, suggesting she might have cheated. Even her own family is a bit puzzled by it. She got tired of all the gossip and decided to settle it once and for all with a paternity test.
They decided to do two tests: one to check paternity and another to explore their daughter’s ancestry. The mom was curious to see if there might be a distant relative they didn’t know about who could explain their daughter’s unusual eye color.
After much insistence, the husband finally agreed to the tests, and it turns out the little one is indeed his daughter. But here’s the twist — his dad isn’t really his biological father! Now, they’re both thinking about confronting the mom about it, but the wife’s urging caution. She thinks they should take some time to process this bombshell before they make any moves.
They know they should tell the husband’s dad about the DNA test results, but they’re worried about the consequences. They’re exhausted from looking after their newborn, and this news has hit them hard. They’re scared that revealing the truth might cause a huge family drama and even lead to his parents splitting up. It’s a tough situation, and they’re both feeling guilty about how things turned out.
People online were equally shocked by what happened.
- «Another possibility is that the MIL and FIL did in-vitro with a sperm donor and never told their son. The son should have a DNA test as well. This will clear up any of the scenarios, i.e. MIL had an affair, son was switched at birth, sperm donor, etc.» shbrinnnn / Reddit
- «There is a small chance the husband isn’t related to MIL either, though. As in, switched at birth or secretly adopted.» Gaosnl / Reddit
- «I don’t understand why you all are so worked up about the eye color in a 2-month-old. My son had green to hazel eyes until he was almost 2. They finished at about a hazel-leaning brown. Both my husband and I have brown eyes. We never thought anything of it.
Like, if you wanted to do a test just to find your genetic lines or whatever, that might be interesting. But focusing on your husband, cheating and this eye color is just beyond bizarre to me. Anyone who insinuated I might have cheated would get shut down immediately. Maybe your focus should be on laying down clear boundaries with both your families, instead of worrying about jumping through ridiculous hoops to appease them.» KickIt77 / Reddit - «Green eyes are a genetic mutation, they can occur randomly in any family even those without a history of green eyes. In any race. It is just a lucky happenstance that your child got an eye color gene mutation which led to you wanting the test.» Childhood-trauma-87 / Reddit
- «One of my friends did an ancestry test with her sisters, she already knew that her father was a different person than her sisters’. There’s a big age gap, her mom and her sisters’ fathers were not together, and she looks exactly like her dad.
One thing that surprised them was that supposedly her 2 older sisters had different fathers as well. Well… turns out not so much. They were full sisters, not half-sisters as they thought, so at some point, her mother had had an affair.
I don’t know enough to say if she cheated on the first guy with the second and had his kid, then got together with him and had another, or if she had the first guy have a kid, broke up, then she cheated on the new guy with her old ex. Either way, surprise full siblings, and someone, at least one of them, always thought they had a different dad.» scarletnightingale / Reddit - «Who needs to track down the exact person in the family tree that had green eyes? Three of my aunt’s 4 kids have brown eyes and one has blue eyes. Most people would just think, „Wow, genetics are wild!“ Also, why would you get a paternity test if you know you didn’t cheat?» EmmalouEsq / Reddit
- «Whether it was cheating or something else, the fact remains that your MIL kept this from her son for his entire life, and he’s rightfully unhappy about it. Still, you’re making the right call by telling him to wait, and you wouldn’t have found out, to begin with, if it weren’t for his family badgering you over your daughter’s eye color.» Jiang_Rui / Reddit
- «It sounds like MIL was projecting with her passive-aggressive commentary. What did she think would happen? Of course, you’d want to prove to her family that you didn’t cheat. This is her own fault.» fitheferal / Reddit
Check out a story from a mother-in-law who recently met her son’s girlfriend and uncovered something shocking about her. Now, she’s unsure about how to handle this newfound information.
My stepdaughter insisted that I transfer all of her late father’s assets to her – I did as she asked, but it didn’t turn out the way she expected
George’s absence haunts their home, his memory wrapped in his shirt that Mariana clutches each night. Yet, it wasn’t his death that shattered her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s demand for his assets. When she finally gave in, a twist emerged, leaving Susan furious and Mariana oddly at peace.
Moving on after losing a loved one is never easy. Sometimes, I still hear my hubby George’s voice in the back of my head. I wake up clutching his favorite shirt, his scent lingering on the fabric. But while I was still grieving his loss, what my stepdaughter did… it completely shattered me…
I’m Mariana, 57 years old, and I was married to the most wonderful man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, 34, from a previous marriage.
Our relationship with Susan used to be fine. She called me “Mom” and filled the void in my heart of not having a child of my own. I didn’t see her as “someone else’s” child. I loved her as my own daughter, you know.
When Susan got married to the man of her choice, George and I were overjoyed. But after that, everything went downhill when George was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
Susan’s visits dwindled from weekly to monthly, then stopped altogether. She barely came to see her father, occasionally calling me to ask about his condition.
One day, she asked me something that tore me apart. “How many more days does he have left to live?”
I gripped the phone tightly, my voice trembling. “Susan, your father isn’t some product with an expiry date.”
“I just want to know, Mom. I’m busy, you know that… I can’t be visiting often,” she replied.
“Busy?” I echoed, disbelief coloring my tone. “Too busy to see your dying father?”
She sighed heavily. “Look, I’ll try to visit soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never came.
Then, the day I dreaded finally arrived. The hospital called, informing me that George had passed peacefully.
I was shattered, barely able to stand as the news sunk in. My George, my beloved George, was gone.
To my shock and disappointment, Susan didn’t even attend his funeral. When I called her, she had an excuse ready.
“You know that I just delivered my baby last month, Mom,” she said, her voice oddly detached. “The doctors advised against long travel due to some health issues.”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you want to see him one last time?”
“I can’t risk my baby’s health,” she replied curtly. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not really, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, sweetie. Take care.”
As I hung up and sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something had fundamentally changed between us.
Six months after George’s passing, I was startled by a loud knock on my door. Opening it, I found Susan and her husband Doug, accompanied by a stern-looking man in a suit.
Susan barged in without a greeting. “Mom, we need you to sign some papers.”
I blinked, confused. “What papers?”
Doug thrust a stack of documents at me, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. It’s for transferring all the assets into our names.”
“Excuse me?” I stepped back, my heart racing. “What are you talking about?”
Susan rolled her eyes. “Dad’s assets, Mom. We’re here to claim what’s rightfully ours.”
Their audacity left me speechless. If only George had left a will, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I would have ensured my daughter was taken care of before she even knew there was a problem.
But this? Their tone and audacity irked me. How could they think I’d just stand by and let them walk all over me?
“No,” I said firmly, finding my voice. “I want you to leave my house right now. And don’t you dare come back with such awful demands.”
Susan’s face contorted with anger. “You can’t do this! You’re not even my REAL MOTHER!”
Her words hit me like a bag of bricks. I stumbled back, tears welling in my eyes. “Susan, how can you say that? After all these years?”
“Just stick to your boundaries and pass on my father’s assets to me,” she spat.
I felt my blood pressure rising, my vision blurring with tears and rage. “Get out of my house!” I shouted. “Your father would be heartbroken if he knew what a greedy daughter you’ve become. I’m glad my George didn’t live to see this day.”
Susan launched into a tirade, her words becoming a blur of insults and demands.
“How dare you, Mariana? George was my father, not yours, and you have no right to anything here!” she yelled. “You think you can wiggle your way in here and take what’s ours? Over my dead body!”
That did it. Tears sprang from my eyes. Susan… the daughter my George and I had raised practically stabbed me with her words alone.
But no, I wouldn’t let them break me. Not me. Not Mariana.
“This is my home, and you’re not welcome! Take your greed and get out before I call the cops!” I retorted.
“Do you have any idea what you’re putting us through? You’re nothing but a greedy vulture, circling around for scraps my father left behind!” Susan barked.
“If you had an ounce of decency, you’d leave right now! But clearly, that’s asking too much!” I snapped.
“You think a few harsh words will scare us? Just sign the damn papers, lady!” Doug yelled at me.
I felt cornered by the daughter I’d loved and raised. I was furious and heartbroken.
When they refused to leave, my neighbor, hearing the commotion, rushed over. “You heard her! This isn’t your place, and you’re not welcome. Move it!” he physically escorted Susan and Doug out.
As they left, Susan’s furious voice echoed back. “This isn’t over, Mariana! You’ll regret this!”
I slumped onto the couch, my heart aching. Where had all that love we once shared vanished? How could greed twist my daughter into someone I barely recognized?
With trembling hands, I reached for George’s framed photo on the side table. Tears blurred my vision as I traced his smiling face.
“Oh, George,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Why didn’t you take me with you? I’m lost without you.”
A sob escaped my throat as I clutched the frame to my chest. “Our daughter… our sweet Susan… she’s a stranger to me now. What happened to the little girl who used to call me Mom?”
The silence of the empty house pressed in around me, amplifying my grief. I rocked back and forth, the photo cool against my tear-stained cheeks.
“I miss you so much, honey,” I choked out. “I don’t know how to face this alone.”
Susan’s calls didn’t stop after that. Day and night, my phone buzzed with her angry messages and voicemails. Finally, exhausted and desperate for peace, I decided to give in.
I met with my lawyer, determined to give Susan what she wanted and be done with it. But there was something neither of us knew.
A week later, Susan stormed into my home again, her face red with fury.
“HOW DID YOU DO THIS?” she screamed. “I only get $3,000 and an old car? What about everything else?”
I stared at her, a small smile forming on my face. “What are you talking about?”
Susan waved a paper in my face. “This! This pathetic inheritance you told the lawyer to give me! Where’s everything else?”
I took the paper from her, a small smile dancing on my lips. According to this, George only had $3,000 in his bank account, an old Mustang, and some debts.
“What about the house? The SUV? Dad’s old farmhouse?” Susan snapped.
You see, my lawyer, whom I’d called the other day, arrived and explained the situation. And this is what he said:
“Mrs. Anderson, everything the family owned is in your name. The house, the SUV, the farmhouse, everything. Mr. Anderson transferred it all to you years ago, keeping just three grand in his bank account and his old Mustang. It’s up to you now to decide the fate of these assets.”
Until the lawyer dropped the bomb, I’d assumed George had left me nothing. But no! He had made sure I’d be taken care of after he was gone. Bless his soul.
Susan’s face twisted with rage when I spilled the tea. “You’re lying! This can’t be true!” she hissed.
I looked at her, a strange calm settling over me. “Well, Susan, you wanted your father’s assets. Now you have them.”
“This isn’t fair!” she shrieked. “You tricked me!”
I looked up, a gentle smile plastered on my face. “No, Susan. I gave you exactly what you asked for… what rightfully belonged to your father. And now, I’m keeping what rightfully belongs to me.”
In the days that followed, I made a decision. I sold everything — the house, the SUV, the farmhouse, all of it. I made a decent eight figures, and bought a beautiful villa in a place I’d always dreamed of living, far from everyone.
As I settled into my new home, I received a call from an old friend back in town.
“Mariana,” she said, her voice hushed. “I thought you should know. Susan’s trying to start litigation against you.”
I sighed, unsurprised. “Let me guess, it fell through?”
“Yep. Everything was in your name, after all!”
I thanked her for the information and hung up, feeling a pang of sadness and relief.
Weeks passed, and I started to enjoy my new life. I traveled around the world, tried new hobbies, made new friends. But the peace didn’t last.
One day, my phone rang with an unfamiliar number. When I answered, I heard a man’s voice. “Mrs. Anderson? I’m calling on behalf of Susan. She wants to meet with you.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “No,” I said firmly. “I’m not interested.”
“But Mrs. Anderson, she insists—”
I cut him off. “Tell Susan she got what she wanted. I have nothing more to say to her.”
As I ended the call, I couldn’t help but wonder why Susan was so desperate to meet now. What more could she possibly want? The fragments of my remaining peace?
I shook my head, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter. I had a new life now, and I intended to live it to the fullest. After all, isn’t that what George would have wanted?
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