How am I supposed to go on now—I still don’t understand. My own sister turned out to be a traitor.
My husband and I were, as they say, thick as thieves. Everyone envied us—a quiet, steady, warm family. He was always kind to me, at home and in public. Even my girlfriends were surprised, saying it wasn’t normal for a household to always be so peaceful. They’d mutter, *”It won’t last.”* I just laughed back then. A mistake, clearly. Maybe they jinxed it.
Everything fell apart without warning. It started when my younger sister hit a rough patch—she lost her job. Left with no income and a crushing guilt, she was adrift. We’d always been close, especially after Mum passed; I became like a mother to her. Without a second thought, I invited her to stay with us until she got back on her feet. We gave her the spare room.
At first, it was fine. But soon, the atmosphere shifted. My husband grew tense, irritable. The little things that once made him happy no longer did. The smile that used to greet me after work vanished. He snapped over trifles, picked unnecessary fights, and kept complaining about my sister—how she misplaced mugs or hung laundry wrong.
I brushed it off as stress. One day, I tried gently hinting to my sister to be more mindful of our routines. She just nodded and said she understood.
Then came the moment that shattered everything.
That day, I came home earlier than usual. The flat was silent. I assumed everyone was out—until I pushed open the bedroom door and my legs gave way. There, in *our* bed, under *our* sheets, I saw them. My husband. And my own flesh and blood.
They didn’t even try to explain. I shut the door softly and walked to the kitchen. My heart pounded like a drum, my ears rang. The world collapsed in an instant. Everything I’d built, everything I believed in—a lie.
No screaming, no scene. Just packed his things and left them by the door. My sister, I threw out right then. Her tears and excuses were wasted on me. How could she do this? How do you tear apart your own family—and someone else’s too?
Months have passed, and I still don’t have answers. How do you survive betrayal like this? Can you ever forgive—*should* you? My soul’s hollow now. Everyone I loved betrayed me.
But I keep breathing. Each day, it gets a little easier. They say time heals. I’m not sure. But I believe, someday, I’ll learn to trust again. Just never that blindly.
