I Found a Lace Robe Hidden in My Husband’s Closet – Then I Saw My Stepmother Wearing It

When Calla stumbles upon a lace robe tucked away in her husband Jason’s closet, she initially believes it’s meant to be a romantic gift. But her world is turned upside down when she later sees her stepmother, Lorraine, wearing the very same robe. What follows is a spiral of doubt, suspicion, and shocking revelations as Calla uncovers Lorraine’s sinister plot.

After my father passed away last year, it felt as though his home lost its essence. He had built the house himself—a spacious two-story structure that always carried the scent of pine and fresh paint.

Following his death, my husband Jason, our six-year-old daughter Emma, and I decided to move in to help my stepmother, Lorraine. She and my father had been married for five years, and Lorraine made it clear to everyone that she had been his “rock” during his final moments.

“You can’t deny it, darling,” she’d told me at the funeral. “If I hadn’t postponed my trip to Thailand, your father would’ve passed away all alone. Poor man.”

Living with Lorraine, however, felt like a constant balancing act. Everything about her was sharp—her stilettos, her words, even the way she glanced at Jason when she thought I wasn’t watching. But family is family, and I tried to make the arrangement work.

That is, until I found the robe.

It began innocently enough. I was folding Jason’s laundry, something I’d done countless times without a second thought. As I opened his closet to hang a shirt, something caught my eye—a small, glossy gift bag shoved into a corner, partially hidden beneath his jackets.

Curiosity got the better of me. I pulled it out, my heart pounding as I peeked inside. There it was: a sheer, lacy robe that exuded intimacy.

My initial thought was that Jason had bought it for me. With Christmas around the corner, I allowed myself to believe he was planning a romantic surprise. Jason wasn’t typically the type to make grand gestures, but the idea of him stepping out of his comfort zone made me smile.

If only that had been the case.

A few days later, Lorraine summoned me to her room in a tone that dripped with syrupy sweetness—a sound that always put me on edge. The room, which she’d redecorated since my father’s passing, was now draped in deep maroon tones, exuding a mix of luxury and something more… suggestive. It was a far cry from the warm, inviting space it used to be.

“Oh, Calla, darling,” she cooed. “You won’t believe what my new boyfriend gave me!”

New boyfriend? This was news to me.

As I stepped into the room, my stomach sank. There she was, twirling in the very robe I’d discovered in Jason’s closet. The delicate lace floated around her like some cruel punchline to a joke only she found amusing.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” she purred, her smirk daring me to react. “He has impeccable taste, doesn’t he? And wait until you see the heels I’m pairing it with.”

My breath caught in my throat. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Was Jason…? No. He couldn’t have. Lorraine? Would he?

“Where… where did you get that?” I managed to stammer.

Her smirk only deepened.

“My boyfriend got it for me,” she replied, feigning exasperation. “I just told you, Calla! You never listen to a word I say. Don’t worry—maybe you’ll get one too. He’s discreet like that.”

I stumbled out of her room, her mocking laughter ringing in my ears. A storm of emotions churned within me, each one more troubling than the last.

Later that night, after reading to Emma and tucking her in for her school’s “Dress as Your Favorite Character” day—she’d chosen Belle—I confronted Jason. My voice trembled as I asked, “Jason, I need to know the truth. Did you give Lorraine a robe? The lace one I found in your closet?”

Jason looked bewildered. “What? No way! What are you even talking about?”

“She was wearing it tonight,” I said, tears threatening to fall. “The same robe I found.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. “You think I’d give her something like that? Are you serious?”

“Then how did she get it?” I demanded, doubt creeping in despite his adamant denial.

“I have no idea,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “But I swear, Calla, I didn’t give her anything. The only thing I handed Lorraine today was garlic bread at dinner!”

Though his frustration seemed sincere, my unease lingered. Over the next few days, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Lorraine’s smug demeanor, Jason’s denial—it all felt like an unsolvable puzzle.

Then, one afternoon, while organizing Emma’s art supplies, I overheard Lorraine on the phone. Her words sent chills down my spine.

“Yes, Kerry, I planted it,” she whispered. “That fool of a husband didn’t even notice. It’s just a matter of time before they implode. Once they’re gone, the house will be mine. I knew they moved in to take it from me.”

My blood ran cold. She’d orchestrated everything. Lorraine had planted the robe in Jason’s closet to frame him, all in an effort to drive us out of the home my father had left behind.

That night, I told Jason what I’d overheard. Fury flashed across his face as he crushed his beer can, spilling its contents. “She’s trying to wreck our marriage,” he said through gritted teeth. “This ends now.”

The next morning, over breakfast, I casually mentioned that Jason and I were considering moving out. Lorraine’s face lit up, though she tried to mask her excitement with feigned concern.

“Oh, well, if you think that’s for the best…” she said, her barely concealed glee betraying her true feelings.

That evening, we invited a lawyer friend over under the guise of being a realtor. During dinner, Lorraine couldn’t stop talking about how much she preferred living alone. Jason and I played along, but we had other plans.

A week later, we called a family meeting. Lorraine strolled in, radiating confidence, as if she’d already won.

Jason handed her a stack of papers. “This is the deed to the house,” he explained calmly. “Turns out, Calla and I are the rightful owners. You don’t own this house. We do.”

Lorraine’s face turned ghostly pale. “That’s not possible! Your father would never leave me with nothing!”

“He didn’t,” I replied. “He left you with plenty. But this house? He wanted it to stay in the family.”

Before she could argue further, Jason interjected. “We’re not going anywhere, Lorraine. But you might want to start packing.”

Within a week, she was gone. Peace finally returned to the home my father had cherished. I transformed Lorraine’s old room into a cozy reading nook for myself and a play area for Emma.

As for the robe? I donated it along with the remnants of Lorraine’s belongings. It wasn’t something I wanted lingering in my life.

What would you have done?