I had long suspected something was wrong between my husband and me — something corrosive, something eating away at our relationship. Then one day, I discovered he was cheating. And you won’t believe who it was with.
So I decided to teach him a lesson — at the moment when he least expected it.
One evening, I sat in the living room, waiting for my husband to come home. The clock ticked past eleven, and I felt the same irritation I’d been carrying for months. He was always late.
I had told him many times that I needed him, that I felt alone in this marriage, but he never listened.
Around midnight, I heard the front door open. He walked in, dropping his keys on the table like nothing was wrong.
“Do you realize what time it is?” I snapped.
He sighed, loosening his tie. “I had work.
Stop nagging, will you?”
“Work? You call this work? You come home at midnight every night.
Do you even care about me anymore? Do you even care about this marriage?”
He rolled his eyes. “Here we go again.
You’re imagining things, like a typical woman.”
That cut deep. I stood up. “Don’t you dare call me that.
I’m not imagining the perfume smell on your shirts. I’m not imagining lipstick on your collar. I’m not imagining you hiding your phone every time I walk into the room.”
He slammed his briefcase down.
“You’re paranoid. Maybe you should see a doctor because you’re making up stories in your head.”
My chest tightened with anger and humiliation. He walked toward the bathroom to wash his hands, and in that moment, I grabbed his phone from the table.
My hands shook as I unlocked it.
There it was. A message notification. The contact name read Plumber.
But the message made my stomach turn: “Tomorrow at six, I’ll be waiting.”
I froze. My suspicion was real. He wasn’t hiding some late project.
He was hiding someone.
When he came back, I quickly placed the phone back where it had been. He looked at me suspiciously, but I forced a smile.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said quietly. “Maybe I overreacted.
I’m just tired, that’s all. I think I need some sleep.”
He seemed almost relieved. “Finally.
You should calm down more often.”
I nodded and walked to the bedroom. Inside, my heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear my own thoughts. I wasn’t going to make a scene now.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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