We Played a Game Answering Calls and Texts with Family on Thanksgiving — I Accidentally Exposed My Husband’s Second Family

What started as a playful Thanksgiving game turned into Mary’s worst nightmare. When a mysterious text on her husband Emmett’s phone mentioned a daughter she’d never heard of, Mary’s world spiraled. Her investigation uncovers a shocking double life—a second family, complete with a wife and teenage daughter.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. There’s something magical about gathering the people you love the most, laughing over turkey and stuffing and spilled gravy, and sharing stories that never seem to grow old.

This year, my family decided to try something a little different: a phone game we’d seen in a movie.

A Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

A Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

The rules were simple.

Everyone placed their phones in the center of the table, and whenever one buzzed, the person whose turn it was would answer or read the message aloud. It sounded harmless and hilarious, and you know, just a way to spice up the evening.

My husband, Emmett, and I have been married for 25 years. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with salt-and-pepper hair and a charming smile that’s disarmed me since the day we met on our college campus.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I’ve been a little plain compared to him, with my curly brown hair that rarely cooperates and a fondness for sweaters that my kids tease me about.

Emmett, with his tailored shirts and polished shoes, always seemed to be the one who turned heads.

That night, the table was buzzing with energy as we piled our phones into the center and took turns reading texts aloud. When Emmett’s phone buzzed during my turn, I grabbed it with a laugh, expecting something mundane, like a work email or a reminder about a bill.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Instead, the screen displayed a message that made my blood run cold.

Don’t forget, on Thursday, we’re moving Eliza’s things for her performance. Excited for our daughter’s premiere, Em!

I froze.

Daughter?

A lit screen on a phone | Source: Midjourney

A lit screen on a phone | Source: Midjourney

We didn’t have a daughter named Eliza. There was no performance on Thursday, nor any premieres that I knew of. I stared at the message, my stomach churning.

But everyone was watching, waiting for me to share the text. My palms were sweating, and my pulse was racing. I wanted to scream.

Thinking fast, I scrolled to an older, innocuous text about a phone bill and read it aloud instead.

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

“Looks like we need to update the plan on this number, babe,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Damn, I was hoping Emmett would get something juicy!” his brother, Jacob, laughed.

The table laughed together for a moment, and the game continued, but I was spiraling inside.

A man sitting at a table and laughing | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting at a table and laughing | Source: Midjourney

Why would Emmett be so careless? I remembered him fumbling with his phone earlier, mumbling something about needing to call a client.

“I’ll be back in a second, Mary. I just need to sort this out quickly—it’s about a meeting for next week. Plate up for the kids though,” he had said.

At the time, I hadn’t thought twice. Maybe he’d been too distracted to realize how risky this game was.

A man using his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man using his phone | Source: Midjourney

That night, I barely slept. Every single time I closed my eyes, I saw the words from that text.

Daughter? Performance?

My mind raced with so many questions. Who was Eliza? What was Emmett hiding?

Who was Emmett hiding?

And why?

A woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman laying in bed | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, while Emmett was out walking Lila, our dog, before heading off to work, I found the address attached to the follow-up text message. It was all the details about the performance.

Picking up my notebook, I took down the address and the number belonging to a woman named Alice.

Then, I got into my car and punched it in. According to my GPS, the address led to a school theater in a nearby town. I didn’t want to drive there — not yet.

A notebook and phone on a table | Source: Midjourney

A notebook and phone on a table | Source: Midjourney

But soon, I’d know the truth. Thursday would come. Soon.

Instead, I went to work.

I felt beyond ridiculous pulling into the parking lot on Thursday evening, but curiosity and suspicion firmly had their claws in me. Inside the theater, the dim lights illuminated a stage where a teenage girl, around 16, was performing a ballet solo.

A girl performing a ballet routine | Source: Midjourney

A girl performing a ballet routine | Source: Midjourney

She had long, dark hair tied back in a neat bun, and her confidence radiated from the stage.

My breath caught when the music stopped, and she bowed. She looked just like Emmett.

In the audience, I spotted him sitting beside a woman holding a bouquet of flowers. They both looked proud, their smiles glowing as they watched their girl perform.

As if I could hear it, my heart cracked open in my chest.

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

When the performance ended and Emmett stepped away, I forced myself to approach the woman. My legs felt like lead, but my voice was steady when I spoke.

“Hello, I’m Emmett’s wife, Mary,” I said.

Her face went pale immediately, the color drained from her face before I could blink.

“Excuse me, what?” she gasped.

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney

It turns out that this was Alice, and she and Emmett had been married for 20 years.

20 years.

She had no idea about me or our family.

“He told me that work was demanding, Mary. He made it known when we met years ago. I didn’t question it because a job is a job, and it’s important, you know? I also wasn’t working at the time, so Emmett was supporting me. How could I question his job when I didn’t have one?”

I was silent for a moment.

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney

“He said that the holidays were the worst for him. I never thought to question it.”

Neither had I.

Whenever Emmett mentioned work or business meetings, I didn’t ask anything beyond where he was staying and when he’d be back. Then, I would help him pack his clothes and pack enough snacks for his trip.

Look at my life now…

Containers of food on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Containers of food on a counter | Source: Midjourney

The next day, Alice and I met at a coffee shop. We pieced together Emmett’s double life over matcha lattes neither of us finished.

We learned that he had been moving Alice and their daughter, Eliza, closer to his “primary residence” while claiming work required him to travel frequently.

He’d built two entire lives — one with me and our three children, and another with Alice and Eliza.

Lattes on a table | Source: Midjourney

Lattes on a table | Source: Midjourney

Alice was petite with short, caramel-colored hair and kind eyes, but there was an edge of hurt and anger in her gaze that mirrored my own.

I could see her hesitation when we first sat down, as if she wasn’t sure whether to trust me.

“I almost didn’t come, Mary,” she admitted. “I wasn’t sure if you were part of this… scheme. I know it sounds so bad, but nothing feels real anymore.”

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

I sighed, nodding.

“I understand exactly what you mean,” I said. “But trust me, I’ve been in the dark as much as you… Do you know that last night, when I sat across from him at dinner, he looked so unfamiliar? It was like I hadn’t seen him before.”

She nodded.

“But I think we both deserve answers and justice.”

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

She nodded again, and from that moment, Alice and I were allies.

Over the next few weeks, Alice and I stayed in touch, sharing more details and uncovering more lies than we had ever thought possible.

We realized that we weren’t just two victims of Emmett’s deceit — we were the heads of two families connected by his betrayal.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“The most difficult part is coming, Mary,” Alice told me on the phone one day.

“I know. Telling the kids is going to be… devastating.”

And sure enough, getting our kids involved was the hardest part. My grown children — Mark, 23, Cami, 21, and Jenelle, 18 — were furious and confused.

Jenelle cried for days; suddenly, she wasn’t the last born. Suddenly, she wasn’t the apple of her father’s eye.

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

Mark paced the living room, constantly cursing Emmett’s name. Cami was the only one who remained nonchalant.

“What do you want me to say, Mom?” she asked when I went into her bedroom to check on her. “The others have always been closer to Dad. I’m just the middle child.”

“I want you to tell me how you feel, darling,” I said.

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t… care. It’s disgusting that he did this to you and Alice. What self-respecting man does this to two women? Two families? I don’t care what he does, but he’s not my father anymore.”

Alice’s daughter, Eliza, was blindsided, and her teenage world came crumbling down at her feet. It turned out that she and Emmett were really close. She couldn’t take the heartbreak when she discovered the truth.

Eventually, after long conversations and reassurances, we convinced the kids to join us for a joint “celebration” under the guise of blending families.

A nonchalant young woman | Source: Midjourney

A nonchalant young woman | Source: Midjourney

Emmett arrived at the restaurant, unaware of what awaited him. When he stepped into the room, his confident stride faltered. His face twisted as his gaze darted between me, Alice, and our children, all standing together.

“Your deceit ends today, Emmett. We all deserve better. You’re pathetic.”

Emmett stammered, his usual charisma failing him for once.

“I can… explain,” he began.

The interior of a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“No, you’re a horrible excuse for a father and husband, and we’re not interested in your excuses,” Mark said.

Emmett sputtered, attempting to spin a tale about “complicated feelings” and wanting to “keep everyone happy,” but the united strength of both families left him speechless.

In the weeks that followed, Alice and I worked together to untangle the mess Emmett left behind. We sought legal counsel to address any and all financial matters, ensuring our families’ futures were secure.

A lawyer sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney

A lawyer sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney

Unsurprisingly, Emmett tried to fight back. He claimed he’d acted out of love and that it was fine to love more than one person. But honestly, going the legal route was the best we could have done. His bank statements, travel logs, and more left him with little ground to stand on.

Ultimately, he slunk away, defeated.

My kids struggled to process the betrayal—Cami too, although she pretended she was fine. I spent many sleepless nights sitting on my window seat, questioning everything I thought I knew.

A man standing in a hallway with suitcases | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a hallway with suitcases | Source: Midjourney

Therapy helped a bit, as did Alice’s support. Eliza and Jenelle worked through their pain together. Over time, Alice and I built a strong friendship — one silver lining in an otherwise dark cloud.

Our children, despite the strange circumstances, began forming sibling-like bonds. They leaned on each other, finding strength in their shared pain.

Thanksgiving will never be the same.

But we’ve created new traditions, ones rooted in honesty and mutual respect. Emmett’s betrayal shattered our families, but in the aftermath, we found something unexpected: a new family.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

Greg thought he and Natalie had figured out the whole co-parenting thing — until a late-night phone call shattered that illusion with news he never saw coming.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

We settled into a house that had previously been owned by a man who had passed away, and a dog visited us daily. One day, I decided to follow it

When Maggie moves into a new house with her son, Ethan, and husband, Kyle, she is more than ready for a new start. Her son needed fresh scenery and a new school, and Maggie just wanted him to be happy. But one day, a husky wanders into their yard, eating their food and growing close to Ethan. Soon after, the husky leads Maggie and Ethan into the woods, ready to show them something devastating…

When we moved into our new house, I had a good feeling. It was a new chapter in our lives, and I was more than ready for it. Kyle, my husband, and I were excited to give our son, Ethan, a fresh start. He had recently gone through a bullying experience at school, and we all wanted to just put it behind us.

The house had belonged to an older man named Christopher, who’d passed away recently. His daughter, a woman in her forties, sold it to us, telling us that it was too painful to keep and that she hadn’t even lived in it since her father’s death.

“There’s too many memories in there, you know?” she told me when we first met to walk through the house. “And I don’t want it to get into the wrong hands. I want it to be a home to a family who will love it as much as my family did.”

“I know exactly what you mean, Tracy,” I said reassuringly. “We’ll make this house into our forever home.”

We were eager to settle in, but from the first day, something strange happened. Every morning, a husky would show up at our front door. He was an old dog, with graying fur and piercing blue eyes that seemed to look right through you.

The sweet boy didn’t bark or make a fuss. He would just sit there, waiting. Of course, we gave him some food and water, figuring that he belonged to a neighbor. After eating, he’d wander off like it was routine.

“Do you think his owners just don’t feed him enough, Mom?” Ethan asked one day when we were at the grocery store getting our weekly groceries and food for the husky, too.

“I don’t know, E,” I said. “Maybe the old man who lived in our house fed him, so it’s part of his routine?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Ethan said, adding some dog treats to our cart.

At first, we didn’t think much of it. Kyle and I wanted to get Ethan a dog; we just wanted to wait until he was settled down at his new school first.

But then, he came the next day. And the day after that. Always at the same time, always sitting patiently by the porch.

It felt like the husky wasn’t just any stray. He acted like he belonged here. Like we were just temporary guests in his home. It was strange, but we didn’t think much of it.

Ethan was over the moon. And I knew that my son was slowly falling in love with the husky. He spent as much time as he could running around with the dog, tossing sticks for him, or sitting on the porch, talking to him like they’d known each other forever.

I would watch from the kitchen window, smiling at the way Ethan had immediately bonded with this mysterious dog.

It was exactly what Ethan needed after everything he had been through at his old school.

One morning, while petting him, Ethan’s fingers traced the dog’s collar.

“Mom, there’s a name here!” he called out.

I came over and knelt down next to the dog, brushing away some of the fur covering the worn leather collar on him. The name was barely visible, but there it was:

Christopher Jr.

My heart skipped a beat.

Was it just a coincidence?

Christopher, just like the man who had owned our house? Could this husky have been his dog? The thought sent a chill down my spine. Tracy hadn’t mentioned anything about a dog.

“Do you think he’s been coming here because it used to be his home?” Ethan asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.

I shrugged, feeling a little unsettled.

“Maybe, sweetheart. But it’s hard to say.”

At the same time, it felt like the husky wasn’t just any stray. He acted like he belonged here. Like we were just temporary guests in his home. It was strange, but we didn’t think much of it.

Later that day, after Christopher Jr. had eaten, he began to act strange.

He whined softly, pacing back and forth near the edge of the yard, his eyes darting toward the woods. He had never done that before. But now, it was almost like he was asking us to follow him.

The dog stopped and stared straight ahead, and that’s when I saw it.
“Mom, I think he wants us to go with him!” Ethan said excitedly, already pulling on his jacket.

I hesitated.

“Darling, I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

“Come on, Mom!” Ethan said. “We’ve got to see where he’s going and what’s going on. We’ll take our phones and I’ll text Dad so that he knows. Please?”

I didn’t want to do it, but I was curious. There was something about the dog’s urgency that made me think that this was more than just a random walk in the woods.

So, we followed.

The husky led the way, glancing back at us every so often to make sure we were still there. The air was crisp, and the woods were quiet, except for the occasional snap of a twig under our boots.

“You’re still sure about this?” I asked Ethan.

“Yes!” he said excitedly. “Dad has our location, don’t worry, Mom.”

We walked for about twenty minutes, deeper and deeper into the forest. Deeper than I’d ever been before. I was just about to suggest turning back when the husky stopped abruptly at a small clearing.

The dog stopped and stared straight ahead, and that’s when I saw it.

There was a pregnant fox, trapped in a hunter’s snare, barely moving at all.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, rushing toward the fox.

She was weak, her breathing shallow, her fur matted with dirt. The trap had dug into her leg, and she was trembling with pain.

“Mom, we’ve got to help her!” Ethan said, his voice shaking. “Look at her, she’s hurt!”

“I know, I know,” I said, my hands fumbling to free her from the cruel trap. The husky stood close, whining softly as if he understood the fox’s pain.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to loosen the trap. The fox didn’t move at first. She just lay there, panting heavily.

“We have to get her to the vet immediately, E,” I said, pulling out my phone to call Kyle.

When Kyle arrived, we gently wrapped the fox in a blanket that he brought and rushed her to the nearest vet clinic. The husky, of course, came with us.

It felt like he wasn’t going to leave the fox, not after all of this.

The vet said that the fox needed surgery, and we waited nervously in the small, sterile room. Ethan was quiet, sitting next to the husky, his hands resting on the dog’s thick fur.

“You think she’ll make it, Mom?” Ethan asked.

“I hope so, honey,” I said, squeezing his shoulder. “She’s tough. And we did everything we could.”

The surgery was successful, but when the fox woke up, she was howling, her cries echoing through the clinic.

The vet couldn’t calm her down, and neither could Kyle. But when I walked into the room, she stopped. Her eyes locked onto mine, and she let out one last soft whimper before falling silent.

“It’s like she knows you helped her,” the vet said.

We went back for her two days later, and brought her home. We set her up in a small den in the garage where she could rest and recover. CJ, the husky, as Ethan had taken to calling him, stayed with Vixen the fox the entire time.

A few days later, she gave birth to four tiny kits. It was truly the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. And she let me be a part of it.

“She only lets us near her babies,” Ethan told me one day when we went to check on Vixen and the babies. “She trusts us.”

I nodded and smiled.

“And the dog too,” I added. “Little CJ seems to be right at home with us.”

When the babies were old enough, Kyle and I knew it was time to let them go. We built a proper den for them back in the forest and watched as Vixen disappeared into it with her babies.

Now, every weekend, Ethan, CJ, and I walk to the forest to visit them. The fox always comes out to greet us, her kits trailing behind her, just as curious as ever.

What would you have done?

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