“Thinking you could pin your baby on my husband? Not a chance.” — I exposed my sister’s lying scheme

When Lena called me that Friday evening, I knew at once something wasn’t right. Not because of her voice—it sounded the same as always, with those familiar little inflections—but because of the hour. Lena never called after eight. She knew that was my time with Igor, when we ate dinner, talked, and made plans.

“Anya… can I come by tomorrow?” she asked. There was something pleading in her tone, almost pitiful. “I need to talk to you. A real talk. Something serious.”

I agreed, of course. Lena and I had always been close despite the four-year difference. I was the older sister, and I’d spent my whole life feeling responsible for her. Mom used to say, “Anya, you have to set the example.” And I tried. I did well in school, married young—a reliable man—and built a stable life. Lena was always the opposite: impulsive, careless, forever getting herself tangled up in some new drama.

That evening Igor—my husband—was especially withdrawn. We’d just come back from the doctor, and the news hadn’t been encouraging. For the third year we’d been trying for a child, and every month ended with another disappointment. The doctors kept saying everything looked fine, that we just needed time and less stress… but the waiting had become its own kind of torment.

“What does she want to talk about?” Igor asked after I hung up.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She just said it’s serious. She’ll come tomorrow afternoon.”

He nodded and sank back into his thoughts. I knew exactly where his mind was: the nursery we still hadn’t put together. The empty space that grew between us with every negative test. Igor wanted kids even more than I did. From the very beginning of our relationship, he’d dreamed of a big family—a noisy house, laughter, little footsteps.

Lena arrived the next day at exactly two. I noticed right away that her face looked thinner, even though her body seemed, if anything, a little rounder. She wore a loose dress I’d never seen before. She walked into the kitchen, refused tea, sat across from me, and stayed silent for a long time, studying her hands.

“I’m pregnant,” she finally managed.

The first thing I felt was jealousy—sharp, instant, painful. Then I felt happy for my sister. Then the questions rushed in.

“That’s… wonderful,” I said, forcing my voice to sound warm. “What about Misha? Is he happy?”

Misha was her husband. They’d gotten married two years earlier, in a hurry—like everything Lena did. I rarely saw them together; they lived across town in a rented place, and I knew their marriage wasn’t easy.

Lena lifted her eyes, and I saw tears.

“It isn’t Misha’s,” she whispered.

I went still. A thousand thoughts flew through my head, but I made myself stay quiet and wait.

“It’s Igor’s,” she added, and her voice shook. “Your Igor’s.”

The world tilted. Cold spread through my body; my fingers went numb. It couldn’t be real. Igor? My Igor—who came home on time every evening, who told me he loved me, who dreamed of our baby?

“What are you talking about?” My voice sounded чужим, too high, not like me.

“Anya, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” She started crying for real. “It happened in July, remember? When you went to Grandma’s for two weeks. I came by to pick up those books you promised. Igor was home. We drank some wine. I don’t know how it happened. He said you two were fighting about the baby, that you were pulling away, that he felt unwanted…”

“Stop.” I stood up so abruptly my chair tipped over. “Get out of my house.”

“Anya, please, listen to me!” She spoke fast, desperate. “I didn’t want this. He started it—he seduced me. He said things… I thought you and he were basically done. And I didn’t know I’d get pregnant. But now the baby exists, and the baby has a right to know their father. I thought… maybe you two would take the child. I can’t tell Misha—he’ll kill me. And Igor wants kids so badly…”

I stood with my back against the refrigerator, unable to move. My ears rang. Lena kept talking, but the words blurred into noise.

“Leave,” I said again. And finally she stood up and went.

When the door closed behind her, I slid down to the floor and sobbed. I cried until there was nothing left—only emptiness and a dull ache in my chest.

Igor came home at seven. I met him in the hallway.

“Lena was here,” I said without any lead-in. “She says she’s pregnant by you.”

I watched his face change—surprise, then confusion, then something close to horror.

“What?” He went pale. “Anya, that’s insane. I didn’t… we never… what is she even saying?”

“She says it happened in July when I went to Grandma’s. She says you complained about us and seduced her.”

“My God, Anya.” He reached for me, but I stepped back. “I didn’t see Lena in July at all. I was on a business trip almost the whole week you were away—you know that. And when I got back, I went straight to you in the village. I still have the tickets on my phone if you don’t believe me.”

I stared at him, trying to decide if he was lying. Igor had never been a good liar. If he lied, his ears turned red and he started blinking too much. Now he just looked straight at me—open, desperate.

“Show me the tickets,” I said.

With shaking hands he pulled up his phone and showed the purchase history. A business trip to Yekaterinburg from July 8 to July 14. Then a train ticket to the station near Grandma’s village—July 15. I remembered him arriving exhausted but happy to see me. I remembered us walking in the woods, picking mushrooms, Igor helping Grandma in the garden.

“She’s lying,” Igor said quietly. “I don’t know why, but she’s lying. Anya, I love you. Only you. I would never… especially not with your sister.”

I sank onto the couch. My head spun. So Lena had lied. But why? Why accuse Igor? Why come to me with something so outrageous?

“I need time,” I said. “I need to sort this out.”

That night we slept in separate rooms. Even if I believed he hadn’t done it, I couldn’t lie next to him. Lena’s words were stuck in my head like a splinter I couldn’t pull out.

In the morning I called Mom.

“Mom, tell me the truth—Is Lena okay? I mean… with her marriage.”

Mom hesitated. I heard her sigh.

“How do you know? She asked me not to tell you, so you wouldn’t worry.”

“Not tell me what?”

“She and Misha are getting divorced. They’ve been living apart for months. He moved back in with his parents. He says he’s tired of her behavior, the constant fights. Lena’s crying, begging him to come back, but he won’t.”

The pieces started to fit.

“And is she seeing someone?” I asked. “Do you know anything?”

“I don’t know,” Mom said uncertainly. “She mentioned some man—someone from work, I think. I didn’t ask questions. Anya, what happened?”

“I’ll explain later, Mom. Thank you.”

I began replaying the summer. After I returned from Grandma’s, Lena really had been odd. She called often, asking how things were between me and Igor—if we were fighting. I’d assumed she was worried about her own marriage and projecting. A few times she stopped by “just passing through” when Igor wasn’t home, and asked questions about his schedule and business trips.

I opened her social media and scrolled through the last few months. Lena posted everything. And then I saw it: a photo from an office party in August. Lena with her arm around a man around forty—handsome, expensive suit. Caption: “With my favorite colleague.” The comments were jokes and emojis… and one message from a woman’s account: “Oleg, maybe you’ve flirted enough at work—time to come home.”

I clicked his profile. Oleg Semyonov, thirty-eight, married, two kids. Works in the same company as Lena, in sales management. I scrolled through his pictures: smiling family, beach vacations, kids on bikes—the usual polished image of happiness.

Then I went back to Lena’s page and started reading the comments under other photos. Oleg showed up constantly, always complimenting her, sometimes with lines that sounded far too personal for “just coworkers”: “Beautiful,” “You look unbelievable,” “Why are all the gorgeous women so unreachable?”

I called a mutual friend who worked in the same company.

“Marina, hi. Strange question… do you have an Oleg Semyonov there?”

“Yes,” Marina answered cautiously. “Why?”

“Is he sleeping with my sister?”

A long, telling pause.

“Anya, I don’t want to get into other people’s business…”

“Marina, please. It’s important.”

“…Okay,” she finally said. “Yes. They’re having an affair. About four months now, I think. Everyone at the office knows, they just pretend they don’t. His wife came in recently and caused a huge scene right at reception. She thought Lena didn’t know he was married, but honestly? Lena knew. And she didn’t care. Lena never told you?”

“No,” I said, forcing myself to swallow. “Thanks, Marina.”

So that was the truth. Lena was pregnant by a married man who had no intention of leaving his family. Her husband had already walked out on her. And she decided to pin the baby on Igor—my husband, who was desperate to be a father. A man who might, in a moment of heartbreak, agree to raise that child if he believed it was his.

Anger rose inside me like a tide. Not just hurt—pure rage. How could she? How could my own sister—the one I’d always protected—try to destroy my family, manipulate us, weaponize our pain?

I called Lena. She didn’t pick up right away.

“Anya?” Her voice was wary.

“I need to see you,” I said. “Today. Right now.”

“I can’t. I’m at work…”

“Lena, either you come to me now, or I’ll come to your office. And we’ll talk in front of your coworkers. Including Oleg Semyonov.”

Silence. I could hear her breathing.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” she said at last.

She came. She sat in the same chair as the day before, but she held herself differently now—tense, braced for a fight.

“I know everything,” I said immediately. “I know about Oleg. I know Igor was on a business trip in July. I know you lied.”

Lena went pale but didn’t speak.

“So it’s true?” I leaned forward. “You really thought you could pin your baby on my husband? Use the fact that we can’t have children? You thought we were so desperate we’d accept anything?”

“Anya, you don’t understand,” she rushed out, stumbling over her words. “I didn’t know what else to do. Oleg said he wasn’t leaving his family—that it was a mistake. Misha left me. I’m alone, pregnant, no money, nowhere to live. I thought… Igor wanted a child so much. I thought it could be a solution for everyone. You’d get the baby you’ve dreamed of, and I…”

“And I would get what?” I cut in, my voice turning ice-cold. “Child support from my husband? Or were you hoping he’d leave me once there was ‘his’ baby?”

“No!” she cried. “I just… I didn’t think you’d find out so fast. I wanted to—”

“So you really planned to hang your child on my husband?” The words came out heavy, each one hurting my chest. “Not a chance. Do you know, Lena, I’ve defended you my whole life. Always took your side even when you were wrong. Mom called you irresponsible, Dad called you selfish, and I defended you. I told them you were just lost, that you were kind underneath it all. But now… now I see they were right.”

Lena cried—real tears, not the performance from the day before.

“Forgive me, Anya. Please. I was desperate. I didn’t know what to do. I did something horrible, I know. But I’m your sister…”

“A sister wouldn’t do what you did,” I said, standing up. “Get out. And don’t come back. Don’t call. Don’t message me. I need time to decide if I’ll ever be able to forgive you. Right now, I don’t want to see you.”

She left, shoulders hunched, and I stayed alone in the kitchen. I sat on the floor, leaned my back against the cabinet, and shut my eyes.

Igor came home early. He’d taken time off work because he couldn’t focus.

“I figured it out,” I told him when he walked in. “You were right. She lied. She’s pregnant by a married coworker who doesn’t want responsibility.”

Igor didn’t say anything—he just stepped closer and hugged me. Hard, so tight I could barely breathe. I pressed my face into his shoulder and finally let myself cry again.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry you had to go through this. Sorry she did this to you.”

“I thought I knew her,” I said through tears. “I thought there was trust between us. And she was ready to blow up our marriage for her own benefit.”

“People do terrible things when they’re scared,” Igor said quietly. “I’m not excusing her. But maybe she really was desperate.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t.”

We stood there for a long time, silent, holding each other in the kitchen. Outside, evening settled in—streetlights flickering on, the world returning to its normal rhythm.

“You know,” I said finally, “all this time I was terrified that if we didn’t have a baby, it would ruin our marriage. And it turns out the real threat came from a completely different direction.”

“But we made it,” Igor said, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “We made it because we trust each other. Because we’re a team.”

“Yes,” I managed, smiling through tears. “A team.”

A few days later Mom called. She’d heard everything from Lena.

“Anya, I know what she did was awful,” Mom said. “But she’s your sister. Your only sister. Sooner or later you’ll have to make peace.”

“I don’t know, Mom,” I said, staring out at the autumn rain. “I’m not sure I can forgive her.”

“Don’t forgive her today,” Mom said gently. “But don’t lock the door forever. Family isn’t only joy. Sometimes it’s work. Sometimes it’s pain. But it’s what we have.”

I thought about Mom’s words later that night. Igor was asleep beside me, breathing slow and steady. I watched his face in the dim light and thought about how easy it is to lose everything. How fragile trust is. How terrifying betrayal can be.

And I thought about Lena, too. About her being alone, pregnant, scared. And even after everything she’d done to me, somewhere deep inside I still remembered the little girl with braids who used to chase me into the yard and beg me to take her along.

Will I ever forgive her? I don’t know. But maybe one day—after time passes, after the pain dulls—we’ll be able to talk. Really talk. Without lies. Without manipulation.

For now, I needed to heal. To rebuild the sense of safety Lena had shaken. To restore what matters most in a marriage: trust.

In the morning I woke up to the smell of coffee. Igor was in the kitchen making breakfast—vegetable omelet, my favorite.

“Good morning,” he smiled when I walked in. “How’d you sleep?”

“Okay,” I said, hugging him from behind and pressing my cheek to his back. “Thank you for being here.”

“No need,” he answered simply.

And in that simple phrase was everything: a promise, loyalty, love. Something you can’t buy and can’t steal. Something you build over years—and something that can collapse in a single moment if you don’t protect it.

We made it through. Somehow, we made it through. And maybe the ordeal even made us stronger, proved how much we truly trust each other.

As for Lena… Lena made her choice. Now she would have to live with the consequences—alone, with a child she tried to use like a bargaining chip. I felt sorry for her—yes, even after all the anger and pain, I still felt sorry. But I couldn’t help her. Not now.

Some wounds are too deep to heal without leaving a scar. Some actions are too serious to simply forget. And even if Mom is right that family matters, there’s a line—beyond which blood ties don’t excuse betrayal.

Lena crossed that line. And now she’ll have to find her path without me—without my support, without my forgiveness. At least for the time being.