When Nancy discovers a hidden letter in her husband David’s laundry, her seemingly stable life unravels. The letter, written by David, invites a mysterious woman to celebrate their “seven-year anniversary.” What else will the dirty laundry reveal?
Laundry was just another Mom thing in our household. David helps out with the kitchen and the kids — but the laundry and the bathroom are two things he will never tackle.
A person doing laundry | Source: Pexels
“I can’t do the hair in the drain,” David said, grimacing when I asked him to take over the chores.
“It’s my hair. And our daughter’s,” I chuckled.
“Still gross,” he retorted.
But the sounds of the washing machine and the hum of the dryer soon became my perfect quiet chore — and I loved that it was mine.
Except for the time when laundry day revealed more than just dirty stains.
A woman washing her hair | Source: Pexels
As I shuffled through my husband’s laundry, the soft crinkle of paper disrupted the mindless actions of my hands. A folded letter, elegant and unsuspecting, slipped from between the folds of his shirt, falling to the floor.
Happy anniversary, babe! These 7 years have been the best of my life! Meet me at Obélix on Wednesday night, 8 p.m. Be in red.
My husband’s handwriting was unmistakable. The loops of his letters and the hard pressure with which he wrote.
A man writing on a piece of paper | Source: Pexels
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
Seven years? David and I had been married for eighteen years. We had two daughters. Our anniversary wasn’t for another six months.
And Obélix? The fanciest restaurant in town? After David had specifically told me that we needed to cut down our expenses.
A fancy restaurant | Source: Pexels
“We need to cook at home more, Nancy,” he said. “Less takeout. The girls will just have to get used to the idea — we’ve been spending unnecessarily, lately.”
“Are we in trouble?” I asked, thinking that we were falling down some financial hole that we hadn’t been expecting.
“No, we’re not,” David reassured me. “But it’s just good to be mindful.”
A person packing takeout into a brown bag | Source: Unsplash
Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. It was all I thought about for days. I wanted to get to the bottom of David’s secret letter. A day after I found the note in his shirt pocket, I went back to see if it was still there — but the pocket was empty.
Signed, sealed, and delivered, I thought.
“I’m working late tonight, honey,” David said that morning while I began the breakfast routine.
A person making breakfast | Source: Pexels
“Should I leave you a plate, or will you grab something?” I asked, knowing full well that he had dinner plans with some mysterious woman in red.
“I’ll get something on the way home,” he said, walking out the door with his travel mug.
The day dragged on with me doing school drop-offs and the afternoon lift club consisting of five noisy schoolgirls. But even through that, I couldn’t get David out of my mind.
I took the girls back home and made them snacks for when they were sitting outside, while trying to figure out what to do.
Two little girls outside | Source: Pexels
“You’ve got the time and the location, Nancy,” my mother said when I phoned her for clarity.
“So, you think I should go? Really?” I asked.
Of course, I wanted to go. I wanted to be the one to catch David in the act. But I was also scared of breaking my own heart.
“Yes. Your entire marriage rests on this evening, darling,” she said. “I know that it’s going to be difficult, but at the end of the day, at least you’ll know what your next move will be.”
“I suppose,” I said.
A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels
“Don’t you think you owe it to the girls?” she asked.
I arranged for a nanny to look after the girls — my mother could have done it, but it was too short notice to fetch her and still get to the restaurant in time.
I stood in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear. I was torn between being a wallflower — easy for David to miss me, while I watched from afar.
“Stop it, Nancy,” I barked at myself in the mirror. “You’re going to be bold.”
A rack of clothing | Source: Pexels
I slipped into a stunning red dress that David had bought me for my birthday some time ago. It still fit perfectly. And I remembered the conversation clearly.
“Red has always been your color,” David said, removing the dress from the box.
A woman in a red dress | Source: Pexels
I looked in the mirror — I was bold, striking — a symbol of the confrontation that was about to come. But although I knew that I looked good, at the heart of it, I was just hurt and betrayed.
I arrived at the restaurant a little early, the hum of anticipation and the clinking of glasses around me.
And there she was, the other woman. She was dressed in red, too — as per David’s instructions. She had a carefree smile as she held her phone at different angles, taking photos of herself.
Taking a deep breath, I took the table next to her, ensuring that my back was to the door. I didn’t want David to see me first. I needed him to see me at the right moment.
A fancy restaurant | Source: Pexels
The moment my husband walked in, the air shifted. He approached her with a warmth and intimacy that sent a jolt through my heart.
A long time ago, David had looked at me in that way, too.
I took a sip of the wine I had ordered — I needed something to help settle my nerves.
A glass of wine on a table | Source: Pexels
David’s eyes were soft as he pulled a chair to sit next to the woman, instead of across from her. It was something he did with me, too. So that he could put his hand on my knee. He handed her a large bouquet of flowers and a white box.
“Isabelle,” he said, leaning in for a kiss that lingered too long for my comfort. “You look stunning as always, darling.”
Her laughter was light, and as carefree as her selfie session from before.
“David, you always know how to make a girl feel special. Seven years already? Can you believe it?”
A bouquet of white tulips and a giftbox | Source: Pexels
In that moment, his eyes met mine, the warmth in his smile froze, replaced by a dawning realization and fear.
Without a word, he rose from his seat, mumbling an excuse to use the restroom to Isabelle.
“Don’t you dare, David!” I exclaimed.
He stopped, a look of panic crossing his face. Isabelle, now a confused and flustered mess, watched the scene unfold.
David, caught between his wife and his secret lover, stood rooted to the spot. I could see the wheels turning in his head, calculating his next move.
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
Turning to Isabelle, I introduced myself with a calmness I didn’t quite feel.
“I’m Nancy,” I said. “David’s wife of almost eighteen years.”
“What?” Isabelle remarked, her face turning pale. “I had no idea! David told me that you were separated, but still on good terms because of your children.”
Isabelle’s fingers nervously twisted a lock of her hair. It was clear that she was as much a victim of David’s lies as I was.
A person twirling a lock of hair | Source: Pexels
My husband’s eyes begged for forgiveness — or for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The silence was deafening.
“Separated? How original, David.”
Looking directly at Isabelle, I saw the tears well in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I never wanted to be a part of something like this.”
“I never meant for it to go this far,” David said.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t tell which one of us he was talking to.
Isabelle sniffed into her napkin. I could see that she was visibly shaken.
But seven years? They had been together for seven years, and not once did she ask to meet my daughters? Or even meet me?
Did she not think that they were getting serious? Or that there was more to their relationship than just dating?
It didn’t make sense to me. None of it did. David and I got married when we were very young — almost straight out of high school. Despite the usual bickering that married couples went through, we were good. We were strong.
A couple sitting together | Source: Pexels
Until I found that note.
I thought about all the times that we had argued — sure, it was uncomfortable at the time, but we went through everything together and always came out better. I thought about all of David’s late nights, and the business trips.
I remembered the one evening, as I sat in bed eating a bowl of ice cream, David packed his things into a suitcase.
“I’ll just be away for the weekend,” he said.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
An open suitcase | Source: Pexels
“At a hotel,” he answered immediately. “But I’m not going to be alone. One of the guys will be sharing a room with me.”
I nodded. I trusted him; he had never given me any reason not to.
Now, I sat back in my chair, and watched as David fought himself not to reach out and comfort Isabelle. He had a pained look on his face, with his fists clenched tightly.
That hurt me the most. The fact that my husband cared enough for this woman, wanting to reach out to her — in my presence.
A clenched first | Source: Unsplash
I didn’t feel that our marriage was over. But that was the moment that my heart broke completely.
“I’ll begin the divorce process,” I told David, picking up my handbag.
“You need to explain this to the girls; I’m not going to.”
As I left, the restaurant faded into a blur. The night air felt colder as I walked to my car. I had faced my betrayal. But I knew that I had a lot to work through.
I just needed to be strong for my girls. I knew that the divorce would wreck them, and our family. But David had forced my hand.
A woman in red lying on a low bed | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
Here’s another story for you | I witnessed my boss cheat on his wife at work with a coworker. But then a miraculous transformation sparked by a wish took him on a journey of personal growth, leading to systemic change, and marking a pivotal shift towards inclusivity and equality within our corporate world.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
I Decided to Surprise My Husband at Work Only to Discover He Was on Vacation
I planned to surprise my husband at work with lunch, but instead found out he was on vacation. Confused and suspicious, I followed him the next day and uncovered a shocking secret at my sister’s house. What I found left me questioning everything I thought I knew about my marriage and my family.
I decided to surprise Ben at work with lunch last Tuesday. I’d spent the morning making his favorite — lasagna. With the kids at school, I had some time to myself, and I thought it’d be a sweet gesture. I mean, what husband wouldn’t love a surprise visit from his wife with homemade food, right?
When I arrived at his office, the receptionist gave me a puzzled look.
“You’re here for Ben?” she asked, glancing at the lasagna in my hands.
“Yeah, just wanted to bring him lunch. Is he in?”
She hesitated. “Ben’s been on vacation for the past two weeks.”
I stood there, stunned, trying to process what she’d said. Vacation? He’d told me he was working late all week. My stomach twisted, and I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. I thanked her and left.
At home, I tried to make sense of it. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. But what kind of misunderstanding lasts two weeks? I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. So, I did what any suspicious wife might do — I decided to follow him the next day.
The next morning, I called Mom and asked her to take the kids for the day. I told her I had some errands to run. She was happy to help, oblivious to the turmoil brewing in my head. I then followed Ben to find out what was really going on.
I watched as he left the house and got into his car, and I followed at a safe distance. He drove across town and pulled up to Kate’s house — my sister’s house.
My mouth went dry as I watched him get out of the car. Kate came out, smiling warmly as she embraced him and led him inside.
My mind went blank. Was Ben having an affair with my sister? I couldn’t believe it, but what else could explain it? The pain of betrayal cut deep, and I felt tears welling up. I had to know for sure.
I parked my car a few houses down from Kate’s place and called Carla, my lawyer. She’d handled a few legal matters for us before, and I trusted her judgment. I told her everything, my voice trembling with anger and hurt.
“Julia,” Carla said, her tone calm and professional, “before you jump to conclusions, gather some concrete evidence. It’s important to be sure before taking any legal steps.”
I knew she was right. So, I went back to Kate’s house, lurking around like some sort of spy. I felt ridiculous, but I had to know the truth. I peered through a window, careful not to be seen.
Inside, I saw Ben and Kate sitting at the kitchen table, huddled over lunch, and a pile of papers. They looked serious, and every now and then, they’d glance around, as if worried about being caught.
What were they plotting? The more I watched, the more convinced I became that something was terribly wrong. It wasn’t just an affair — they were planning something.
I snapped a few photos with my phone, my hands shaking. I needed proof, something concrete to confront Ben with. My mind raced with all sorts of terrible scenarios. What were they up to?
I called James from my car. He picked up on the first ring. James, my brother-in-law, had always been the sensible one in the family. Married to Kate for nearly a decade, he was the calm, rational counterpoint to her more impulsive nature.
He and Ben got along well, often bonding over their shared love of sports and grilling. I trusted James, and if anyone could help me make sense of this, it was him.
“James, it’s Julia. I need to talk to you about Ben and Kate.”
There was a pause. “Julia, calm down. What’s going on?”
“I think they’re having an affair,” I blurted out, my voice shaking.
James sighed. “Julia, you need to come over here. Now.”
I hurried back to Kate’s house, my mind spinning with fear and betrayal. When I arrived, I saw James’ car already parked outside. I crept up to the house and peeked through the window again. James was there, sitting with Ben and Kate at the kitchen table.
I could hear snippets of their conversation through the half-open window.
“Julia called me,” James said, sounding concerned. “She’s worried sick, thinks you two are having an affair.”
Ben nodded. “So, she is unaware of everything.”
“That’s great!” Kate replied, her tone filled with excitement.
“Our plan is working,” Ben added.
My heart shattered. I had heard enough. I barged into the house, my anger boiling over.
“You lying, cheating traitors! How could you do this to me?”
Kate and Ben looked at me, stunned. James stood up, trying to calm me down.
“Julia, please, let us explain.”
“Explain what? That my husband is cheating on me with my sister?” I screamed, tears streaming down my face.
“Julia, it’s not what you think,” Ben said softly, trying to calm me down. “I took a vacation to work on a surprise for you.”
I laughed bitterly. “A surprise? Meeting at Kate’s house every day is a surprise?”
“Yes,” Ben said, his voice steady. “I was planning to make your dream come true. You always talked about owning a coffee shop, right?”
I blinked, not understanding. “What?”
Kate stepped forward, holding a stack of papers. “Ben has been using his inheritance to buy a coffee shop for you. We’ve been working on the business plan and all the legal paperwork here.”
My anger started to wane, replaced by confusion and a glimmer of hope. “A coffee shop? For me?”
Ben nodded, pulling out a folder and handing it to me. “Look, these are the documents. The lease, the renovation plans, everything. I wanted it to be perfect before I told you. James and Kate are co-investors, so I wanted to make sure they are completely onboard.”
I looked at the papers, the words blurring through my tears. It was all there. The proof of his love and dedication, the coffee shop I had always dreamed of. My knees buckled, and Ben caught me before I fell.
“Oh my goodness, Ben… I’m so sorry. I thought… I thought you were…”
“I know,” he said, hugging me tightly. “I should have told you, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to see your face when I handed you the keys.”
“I’m such an idiot,” I sobbed into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay. I understand why you felt that way. But Julia, I love you. I would never betray you.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of my mistake. “Thank you, Ben. Thank you for everything.”
The next day, we went to sign the final papers. The coffee shop was ours. I could hardly believe it. As I walked into the quaint little space, the smell of freshly baked goods already filling the air, I felt so joyful.
Ben squeezed my hand. “This is all for you, babe. I believe in you.”
I smiled, tears of happiness streaming down my face. “I love you, love. Thank you for believing in me.”
We worked together, turning the coffee shop into something magical. It became a place where dreams were baked into reality, where love and trust were the secret ingredients in every recipe.
Looking back, I realized how important trust and communication are in a relationship. Misunderstandings can happen, but it’s how we handle them that truly matters.
As I stood in my coffee shop, surrounded by the aroma of freshly baked goods, I felt grateful for Ben’s unwavering love and support. We had faced a storm, and together, we had come out stronger.
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