The Wedding Night That Changed Everything: A Wife’s Discovery and a Mother’s Obsession

At dawn, I returned upstairs to wake Ethan for breakfast. The door was half-open.
The sheets were tangled, the room thick with the smell of perfume and wine.

And there, on the edge of the bed, was something that stopped my breath — a reddish stain, faint but unmistakable, on the white linen.

Margaret sat up suddenly, too alert for someone “drunk.”
“Oh dear,” she said with a bright smile, pulling the blanket higher. “I must’ve spilled something last night. I slept so soundly!”

Ethan kept his back turned, pretending to sleep. He didn’t say a word.

I left the room shaking. Later, when I gathered the laundry, I found a pair of red lace underwear — not mine. That was the moment I realized something was deeply wrong in that house, something far darker than I had ever imagined.

A Mother’s Grip

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