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Woman spying behind a man with a phone | Source: Shutterstock
Woman spying behind a man with a phone | Source: Shutterstock

My Boyfriend Only Talked to His Mother When I Wasn't Around, So I Decided to Follow Him One Day – Story of the Day

Roshanak Hannani
Jul 10, 2024
07:43 A.M.

Everything was perfect with my boyfriend, Shawn, except for one mystery: He only talked to his Mom when I wasn't around. Something felt amiss. So, I discreetly followed him one day, and what I saw made my skin crawl.

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The scent of chamomile tea lingered in our house as I overheard Shawn whisper into his phone, “Alright, Mom... I'll be there.”

I knocked on our bedroom door and asked, “Can I come in now? Done talking to your mother?”

“Come in, babe!” Shawn, engrossed in his phone, barely looked up.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

“I need to visit her,” he announced.

“Shawn, shouldn’t I meet your Mom by now?” I probed, noting the grimace on his face.

“We'll talk about it, just not today,” he dismissed, avoiding my gaze. “It’s complicated." That was no excuse. I didn't know if he was embarrassed or hiding something. So, without him knowing, I decided to follow him one day.

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Driving behind Shawn’s motorcycle, I reached a secluded house where I saw him intimately greet a young woman. I knew he wasn't meeting his "mother" at all, but I still felt betrayed and heartbroken. Regardless, I stayed and watched, containing my anger until I got the answers I wanted.

They were inside for a while, and just as I was about to leave, Shawn stormed out and got on his motorcycle. My mouth dropped slightly as I saw the woman, who had followed him out, with a face full of tears.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

"Shawn, please," I heard her plead. "Just listen to me. Please stop doing this to me."

He threw his hands up, his jaw clenched tight. "There's nothing left to say!" His voice boomed, echoing in the quiet evening. "If you don't do as I say, you'll regret it big time, Keira."

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Shawn revved the engine and drove off, not noticing me. I watched as Keira wiped her tears, leashed a small dog that had wandered out of the house, and headed toward the town park.

I confronted her there. My voice, laden with anger, cut through the calm. "Keira?" She flinched, making me think she knew about me already, so I asked what she was doing with a man who had a girlfriend.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

At first, all I got were excuses, and she avoided my eyes. But finally, she broke down and told me something I never would've imagined. Keira had borrowed money from Shawn for her Dad's cancer treatment.

"After Dad lost his battle with cancer, I couldn't repay the money to Shawn. He... he forced himself on me," Keira sobbed, her voice breaking. "He took provocative pictures of us in bed. And threatened to post them online if I didn't 'please' him whenever he wanted."

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As Keira detailed the extent of Shawn's abuse, I found myself not just sympathizing, but also... uncontrollably furious. "I want to stop this madness," she added, wiping her tears. "Shawn deserves to rot in hell for ruining my life."

Seizing the moment, I proposed, "Let's end his tyranny together."

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Our plot for revenge took shape in the fading light. Back at Keira's, after a brief moment with her dog, Charlie, we set off to my apartment, ready to ensnare my unscrupulous boyfriend.

The front door creaked open a few hours later, and Shawn stumbled in, his face flushed. He blinked at the unexpected scene, his usual swagger replaced by a look of confusion. The lights were dimmed, and I was dressed in my best lingerie.

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"Surprise, babe. I wanted to make tonight special. Let's have a drink," I cooed, luring him to the dining table where his favorite whiskey awaited, but he had no idea it was spiked with sleeping pills.

He sipped, his guard dropping, and mumbled incoherently as the drug took effect. "Mmm... spaghetti... I... I'm feeling a little..." His voice trailed off until his head plopped on the kitchen table.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

Keira emerged, her laughter tinged with bitterness. "Looks like he's out," she quipped. So, we executed our plan, defacing Shawn with lipstick marks and photographs. There was both retribution and childish mischief in our actions. But my elation soon turned to horror.

Keira's sudden scream shattered our joking moment. "He's not breathing!" she panicked.

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"No," I shrieked. "This can't be happening." I was frozen for merely a second before I started CPR, but Keira pushed me back.

"Wait, Iris! We can't touch him. What about fingerprints?"

"We have to call an ambulance," I choked out, tears blurring my vision.

"We can't call for help," she insisted, "they'll think we murdered him!"

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Trapped in a nightmare, we debated our grim options. The decision was made to hide Shawn's body in the basement, so we did, although he was so heavy.

Afterward, we sat outside in front of my outdoor fireplace, and under the night sky, we shared wine, trying to escape the horror inside, at least in our heads. My tears reflected the firelight, mourning the shattered dreams of a future now impossible.

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I choked out a sob, the diamond on my finger catching the firelight and throwing a mocking sparkle. "A month. Just a damn month away from everything I ever dreamed of." Keira frowned at me, and I continued. "He thought he was being smart. Cheating. Turns out, he's the biggest fool!"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

But I didn't answer her question. "I have enough diamonds and jewels safe in a bank vault... enough to start a new life in Chicago, far away from this mess," I mused, wiping away another tear that escaped. "A fresh start using the legacy I've carefully locked up. No reminders of this nightmare, no whispers. Just me and enough sparkle to forget the darkness."

Keira comforted me and agreed to stay the night, even coming to bed with me. I never imagined I would make a good friend this way, but she and I talked for hours about everything, including what we had to do with Shawn's body the next day.

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I didn't realize I had fallen asleep until I jolted awake. It was still dark and quiet. The silence of the bedroom only amplified my racing heart. Keira still slept soundly, so I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

A sudden, familiar laughter jolted me again, echoing eerily from the shadows. Shawn? “It’s just a nightmare,” I muttered, but the bathroom’s flickering lights had me questioning my sanity. The laughter came again, deep and guttural, mocking my fear, paralyzing me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Returning to the bedroom, I found Keira still asleep. Was it all in my head? Shaken, I slid back into bed, my mind replaying Shawn’s haunting chuckle. "It’s just stress," I reassured myself, but sleep brought little relief.

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Startled awake by Keira’s terrified shouts, I found her pointing at a corner. “Shawn was there, staring at us!” she panicked.

I illuminated the room, revealing nothing but our shared hysteria. “Keira, Shawn is dead,” I insisted, though I was just as afraid as her.

Despite my attempts to calm her, the room’s strange atmosphere heightened our dread. As Keira finally succumbed to sleep again, I lay awake. I refused to believe in ghosts, yet the night’s eerie events left me worried.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

At dawn, Keira and I woke to the grim reality of disposing of Shawn's body. But there was nothing in the basement. "The body's gone!" she wailed.

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“Gone? How?” I whispered, terrified.

Keira shook her head, her eyes filled with a chilling certainty. "What the hell is going on, Iris? There's no way a dead body can get out on its own. The basement door was closed!"

As panic overwhelmed me, the urge to flee my house became irresistible. She followed, trying to stop me, but I raced to my car, desperate to escape. “Get in! We need to go, now!” I yelled at her. Keira was confused and scared, but she joined me without further protest.

Driving recklessly, I headed straight to the bank, intent on grabbing my jewels, the last remnants of a life I needed to leave behind.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

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It took a long time and the paperwork was driving me mad, but after finally retrieving the valuables and getting back in the car, I faced my new friend. "Keira, please," I pleaded. "You have to promise me that you won't tell anyone. Not about Shawn, not about the missing body, none of it. I'm begging you!"

"I won't tell anyone," Keira swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

With that fragile pact sealed, we drove off. But our horror wasn't over. As we neared Keira's house, I caught a glimpse in the rearview mirror of a motorcycle eerily reminiscent of Shawn's. My heart thundered, fear gripping me as the bike appeared to close in.

Dismissing it as a figment of my guilt, I tried to focus, but the motorcycle’s increasing proximity fueled my panic. Keira noticed my distress and insisted on driving.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

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"Iris," she said, her voice clipped and cold. "Pull over. You're not in any condition to drive."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not!" she retorted. "You're having a breakdown. Let me take the wheel."

Before I could protest, she unbuckled her seatbelt and reached across to me. My breath hitched as her cold, clammy fingers brushed against mine.

"This is all your fault, Iris," she hissed. "You killed him. You overdosed him. And now... your guilt is haunting you." With those words in mind, I guided the car slowly to the side and stopped, and we exchanged seats quickly. She went into motion immediately.

"No. That's not true," I said after a while, my voice ragged with fear and indignation. "It was an accident. We both know that." But my eyes went to the rearview mirror, and the motorcycle was still there.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

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Was I losing my mind? Was Shawn just a figment of my guilt-ridden imagination? I got no answers, though. There was only the highway that stretched before us, like an endless ribbon of asphalt winding through unfamiliar terrain.

"There!" I shrieked, pointing a trembling finger towards a neon sign flickering in the distance. "The Sunset Motel. Please, Keira, stop the car." I couldn't stay a minute more driving while a possibly fake bike followed us.

Once in the motel, the isolation and silence weighed heavily on my heart. As I contemplated my jewelry, a sinister click at the door snapped me back to reality. The door creaked open, revealing Shawn’s unmistakable figure, impossible and terrifying.

His slow, menacing approach, accompanied by a malevolent smile, trapped me in a nightmare from which I couldn’t awaken. "Shawn?" I whispered, disbelief and horror congealing together, choking me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock

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Shawn’s eerie smile widened. "You killed me, Iris. Now, it's your turn to pay!" he whispered, his voice a cold rasp.

I recoiled as the room closed in and the stench of decay filled the air. Shawn's ghastly figure demanded, "The jewels, Iris. Give them to me."

Overcome with fear, I stumbled backward, eliciting a small scream in the silence. But escape was a distant dream. The world dissolved into a horrifying haze of sights and sounds. Through blurry eyes, I saw the grotesque silhouette of my dead boyfriend stuffing the jewels into a bag. Then, darkness swallowed me whole, and consciousness slipped away.

***

At the entrance of the motel, I saw Shawn and Keira, both sporting matching sets of handcuffs, being escorted to a waiting police car. A triumphant smile spread across my face.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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"Did you think I would fall for your cheap tricks, you fools?" I taunted them. "I may not be a detective, but I can spot a phony scheme easier than a five-year-old can spot a birthday cake. Your little act was about as convincing as a toddler trying to pass off a crayon drawing as a masterpiece!"

I had seen through their scheme and won. Ha! My suspicions began when I heard Shawn's eerie laughter the previous night. But Keira's easy friendship, the missing body, her seeing Shawn's ghost, and a myriad of other inconsistencies told me what I needed to know.

I had called the police the moment I entered my motel room, after the final nail in the coffin – Keira asking for a separate room. An officer commended my timely call and exposed Shawn and Keira's full scam.

They were con artists who preyed on wealthy women through fabricated affairs and staged deaths. As the police car carrying them disappeared into the distance, I let out a shaky breath, the morning sun warming my face. A new day dawned, and with it, a new beginning.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

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Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends.

"He's a monster. Please save me," a taxi driver gets a chilling note from a young female passenger accompanied by an older man. The cabbie decides to help her, oblivious to the horror awaiting him. Here's the full story.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.

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