I Caught My MIL Digging in My Suitcase Before My Work Trip – The Reason Left Me Shaking

My mother-in-law was going through my suitcase the night before my work trip, believing no one was watching. If I hadn’t caught her red-handed, what she did next would have ruined our marriage. The fact that she would go to such lengths to destroy me still bothers me.

One would think that after spending three and a half years with Dave, his mother would have come to terms with the fact that I was here to stay. However, Paula made it her personal goal to ruin my life from the beginning.

She’s not only against me. She completely hates everything about me, including the fact that I occasionally travel out of town for work and the way I prepare dinner for her kid. The way I laugh at Dave’s jokes even annoys her.

When I suggested a meeting in Denver last month, she said, “Do you really need to travel so much for work?” “A good wife should be home with her husband.”

Under the table, Dave gripped my hand. “Mom, Miley’s professional life is significant. We help one another.

Paula had an ice-carved smile on her face. “Obviously, my love. I’m just trying to protect you.”

My MIL specializes in that. She disguises her venom in phony worry and paints me as the villain if I resist her manipulation.

Perhaps things would change when Dave and I were married in June. Perhaps she would at last acknowledge and honor her son’s decision to choose me. I was mistaken.

If anything, she worsened after our wedding, becoming more controlling and invasive in her never-ending quest to show her beloved boy that I wasn’t worthy of him.

She did, however, cross a threshold on Friday night that I did not anticipate.

After supper, Paula declared, “Traffic’s going to be terrible this late,” sinking farther into our couch as if she were preparing to establish herself.

An hour ago, Dave’s father had already left for home, whining about the early hour. Paula, however, kept coming up with excuses to stay.

“My head’s pounding something fierce,” she replied, theatrically placing her palm to her forehead. “I don’t trust myself to drive like this.”

I looked at the time. I had a 6 a.m. flight to Phoenix for a client presentation, and it was already past ten. In the guest room, my suitcase was sitting unpacked, taunting me.

Dave said softly, “Mom, you could always take a rideshare,”

“At this hour? In this locality?” As if he had advised her to hitchhike with serial killers, Paula gripped her chest tightly. “Besides, I’d hate to wake your father stumbling around in the dark.”

Dave gave me an apologetic look. That look was familiar to me. He understood I had to pack, but he still wanted to assist his mom.

Paula said, “It’s actually kind of cozy here with you two,” in a falsely pleasant voice. “Like old times when David still lived at home.”

I gritted my teeth uncontrollably. I had “stolen” her son, and everything served as a reminder.

At last, Dave remarked, “The guest room is all yours, Mom.”

I made an effort to grin. “I’ll just pack later, of course. It contains my suitcase.

Paula grinned as if she had won the lotto. “Miley, you’re such a considerate daughter-in-law. So understanding.”

I ought to have anticipated it. Paula always had a purpose in mind. However, I was too preoccupied with my presentation to make the connection.

I woke up at around 1:30 a.m. with that horrible feeling you get when you forget something important. Rather of placing my passport in my suitcase, I had left it in my jewelry box.

Dave was soundly snoring while he slept next to me. After leaving my bags in the guest room, I padded down the hallway after sneaking out of bed. I noticed the light leaking from the broken door at that point.

I went cold. Was Paula struggling to fall asleep? Perhaps she was simply searching for additional pillows or something. However, as I approached, I could hear the distinct sound of zippers opening and shutting as well as odd rustling sounds of fabric moving around.

As I leaned against the wall and looked through the opening in the door, my heart began to race. Every nerve in my body froze at what I witnessed.

Paula wasn’t, as I had thought, laying in bed with sleeplessness. Instead, she was methodically shifting items around while squatting on the floor next to my bag with her hands deep inside.

I initially assumed she was simply looking through my clothes, which would be intrusive and unsettling but also kind of Paula behavior. My bewilderment quickly gave way to horror as I saw her take something out of her own handbag.

“What the hell?” I said to myself in a whisper.

Despite my trembling hands, I was able to raise my phone and activate the camera. I had a feeling that I would require evidence of whatever was taking place.

My stomach dropped when Paula took the first thing out of her bag. She meticulously stuffed black lace lingerie, barely there items that were unquestionably not mine, with tags still on them and swinging, into my suitcase like evidence at a crime scene.

Then she put a piece of paper on top of the underwear. I could see words written in blue ink over the top, even from where I was standing in the corridor. “Can’t wait to see you again, babe! :)”

The horrible realization nearly made my knees give out. During my business trip, she was carefully fabricating evidence to make it appear as though I was cheating on Dave. She was not done with her perverse plan, though.

Paula took out a man’s navy blue tie with tiny silver stripes from her purse once more; it was utterly different from anything we owned and nothing like the conservative ones Dave wore to work.

To prevent myself from gasping out, I covered my lips. Now the image was quite clear. Paula wanted Dave to discover these items in my bag. Her intention was for him to believe that I was secretly going to Phoenix to meet another man.

All of my instincts told me to go through that door and face her.

However, I was acquainted with Paula. She was an expert at seeming to be the victim. She would cry and say she was only “organizing” my belongings if I barged in. She would spin it all around to paint me as a neurotic, insane wife.

I therefore made myself remain hidden and continue to record.

Paula carefully and precisely zipped my luggage back up. As if nothing had happened, she tucked the covers in place, switched off the lamp, and climbed into bed. For ten more minutes, I stood in that corridor, trembling with anger and shock.

I said, “She actually did it,” into the shadows. “She actually tried to destroy my marriage.”

The image of Paula’s face as she planted that evidence with such methodical coolness and the contented expression she wore when she believed she had effectively ruined my marriage kept me awake the rest of the night.

I meticulously put on my finest poker face in the morning. I was going to wait until the right time to tell her that I had captured her.

“Good morning, sweetie!” As I entered the kitchen, Paula began to chirp. As if she hadn’t spent the night undermining my life, she was already dressed and drinking coffee. “All ready for your big trip?”

“Yes,” I replied, maintaining a steady tone.

Dave showed up carrying my suitcase. “Baby, I’ll put this in the car for you. Traveling to the airport will be extremely difficult due to traffic.

“Have you taken everything, dear?” Paula asked in a charming voice.

My heart pounded. It was this. My MIL had been waiting for this time.

“Dave, honey, could you check it out for a moment? Perhaps she overlooked something crucial.

I cooperated. “Oh, everything must be good. My goal is to avoid being late for my flight.

“It’ll just take a second,” Dave responded, already grabbing the zipper.

“Of course, a five-minute wait won’t hurt!” As Dave unpacked the suitcase, Paula spoke.

In a devastating display, the manufactured evidence spilled out onto our kitchen table. In the morning sunlight, the note, the tie, and the lingerie lay there like damning indictments, ready to wreck my marriage.

Dave’s expression alternated between bewilderment, hurt, and rage as he gazed at the objects. Paula put her hand to her chest in a theatrical gasp.

She said, “Oh my goodness!” with a tone of feigned shock. “What the devil is all this, Miley? Are you unfaithful to my son?

Paula should have won the Academy Award for Best Actress immediately. She appeared truly appalled, perplexed, and deceived on behalf of her kid.

She was unaware of something I had, though. I said, “Funny you should ask,” and took out my phone. “Because I saw exactly how it got there.”

Paula’s face lost color as if someone had yanked a plug.

I pressed the video’s play button. Our kitchen sounded like rustling fabric. As Paula carefully arranged each item in my luggage, I could hear her whispering to herself.

I believed Dave could have cracked a tooth because of how tightly his jaw tightened. He gazed at his mom as if she were a stranger.

“Mom, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Paula’s poise broke like a sheet of ice. “I-I was simply putting her allegiance to the test! David, I was defending you.

“Protecting him from what?” I lost my temper. “From having a happy marriage?”

“She travels too much!” Paula’s voice became almost shrill. “She never comes home! How can you be certain that she is putting effort into these trips?

Dave said, “Because I trust my wife,” with each syllable piercing like a knife. “Something you apparently can’t understand.”

Paula’s eyes began to well up with tears, but they were as phony as the rest of her appearance. “Your mommy is me! You were raised by me! I am aware of what is best for you.

“What’s best for me is not having someone try to destroy my marriage with lies and manipulation,” Dave replied.

The only sound in the kitchen was Paula’s theatrical sniffling. With anxious eyes, she glanced between Dave and me, likely planning her next move in this terrible game she had initiated. However, there was nowhere else to flee to.

Dave said, “Pack your things and leave,” at last. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Paula’s poise was utterly destroyed, her mouth opening and closing in startled silence. “You’re not serious. I’m your mom.

“My mother wouldn’t do what you just did.”

With trembling hands and tears running down her cheeks, Paula picked up her purse. However, I saw a spark of unadulterated hate in her eyes as she walked by me. No regret or remorse. Just frustration that her strategy didn’t work.

Dave grabbed me into his arms as the front door slammed behind her with enough power to rock the glass. He mumbled, “I’m so sorry,” into my hair. “I sincerely apologize for what she did to you. To us.

“You are not to blame. She really attempted to frame me for cheating, which I find unbelievable.

“If you hadn’t caught her…” We both understood what Dave was thinking, but his voice drifted off.

Paula’s devious scheme might have been a complete success if I hadn’t woken up that night and taped everything. Our marriage might not have survived her deliberate sabotage if Dave had thought I was having an affair.

That morning, I took off, and I kept playing the video on my phone the entire way to Phoenix.

Three days later, I arrived home, and Dave embraced me as if he had lost me forever.

When he said, “I blocked her number,” “And I explained everything to Dad. He shares my contempt.”

The parts are still being picked up. It’s possible that Dave and his mother will never get along again. That makes me feel awful in part. Mostly, though, I’m relieved.

I had self-doubt for three and a half years because of Paula. She caused me to question whether I was being overly defensive, sensitive, and paranoid. She made me consider whether or not I was truly suitable for her son.

Dave, however, has now witnessed her true nature. He is fully aware of his mother’s true character. He also picked me. The truth might be painful at times. However, it also releases you. And that’s sufficient.