My husband surprised me with an appointment with my manicurist, but during our session, I discovered the woman was cheating with him! Angry, I tried to retaliate by getting revenge, but when the truth came out, I was left with egg on my face!
When I went in for my manicurist appointment that day, I had no idea that I was about to get more than what I bargained for. What I discovered had me seething as I imagined the worst about my loving husband. But before we get there, let me backtrack a bit to the day before…
A woman at a beauty parlor | Source: Midjourney
It had been a long day of privately tutoring a mix of energetic six-year-olds learning their ABCs and a precocious eight-year-old trying to ace his fractions. By the time I got home, I was completely drained. Adam, my husband of seven years, greeted me with his signature boyish smile and a kiss on the forehead.
“How’s my favorite teacher?” he asked, handing me a cup of herbal tea.
“Tired,” I replied with a laugh, plopping onto the couch. “But your tea makes it better.”
A happy woman drinking tea | Source: Midjourney
Adam always had a way of making me feel like the most important person in the world. We were one of those couples people envied, with a solid partnership full of love and shared dreams.
We had just started planning for a family, and I’d been secretly pinning nursery ideas to my Pinterest board.
“I might have to work late tonight, and tomorrow I’ll be staying at work overnight, unfortunately,” Adam said, running a hand through his dark hair. “Big project at the office.”
A man running his hand through his hair | Source: Midjourney
I nodded, not thinking much of it. His job as a successful manager for a mid-sized marketing firm often demanded odd hours.
“Just don’t overwork yourself, okay?”
“I won’t,” he promised, kissing me again before adding, “To make it up to you, I booked an appointment for you tomorrow afternoon at Lily’s Luxe Nails.”
I got up and thanked him with a kiss before he gave me one on the cheek and disappeared into his home office.
A woman getting a kiss from her man | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I went and treated myself to the rare indulgence of a trip to Lily’s Luxe Nails. Lily, the owner, was one of my favorite people. She had a magnetic personality, full of dramatic flair and endless gossip!
Her stories always left me laughing or clutching my pearls.
As I settled into the chair, Lily approached with her usual wide grin.
“Honey, you’re glowing! Your hubby’s treating you well?”
A manicurist | Source: Midjourney
“As always,” I said, holding out my hands for her to examine.
She laughed, taking out her tools.
“Well, at least he’s worth it. Some of us don’t get that lucky.”
Her comment caught my attention. Lily wasn’t one to complain about her personal life. In fact, she often bragged about her adventures in romance.
“Oh? Someone giving you trouble?” I asked.
A woman getting her nails done | Source: Midjourney
She smirked, leaning in conspiratorially.
“No trouble at all. I’ve been seeing someone new, a real dreamboat! Smart, funny, successful! And let me tell you, he knows how to treat a lady!”
“Good for you! What’s it like?”
Lily’s eyes sparkled. “Our relationship is UNREAL! I’ve never felt ANYTHING like this before! Not even James compares to him!”
James is Lily’s husband. I’d met him before when he came to her workplace.
A happy man | Source: Midjourney
“I guess I am an old-fashioned girl, ’cause I could never cheat on my husband, and I’m pretty sure he feels the same way,” I responded.
“Girl, that’s YOUR loss! You wouldn’t believe how romantic he is. Last week, he showed up with flowers just because he ‘felt like it.’ You also haven’t SEEN who I’m talking about, don’t even get me started on his dimples!”
“Uh huh…,” I replied, still not convinced that cheating on Adam would be a good idea.
An unsure woman | Source: Midjourney
“He’s also a manager at some company. Busy as hell, but he always makes time for me. He’s planning to meet me tonight at that cute boutique hotel across the street while telling his wife he’s working late so we can meet up. I’m counting down the minutes!”
I froze, a strange chill creeping up my spine.
“That’s sweet,” I managed to say, my voice faltering.
Lily didn’t notice…
An unhappy woman | Source: Midjourney
Dimples? My chest tightened. Adam has dimples. Adam is a manager. Adam was supposed to be working late tonight. I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling clawing at my chest. It had to be a coincidence…
“Well, do you have a picture of this ‘dream guy’? I’m curious,” I asked, hoping to quash my paranoia.
Lily grinned, pulling out her phone.
“Of course, darling! Look at this stud muffin!” she said, pulling out her phone.
My stomach dropped.
An upset woman looking at a phone | Source: Midjourney
There he was, MY Adam, smiling in the photo with his arm casually draped around Lily. I stared at the picture, willing it to be fake. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe it was a doppelgänger. But deep down, I knew the truth.
“Wow,” I said, my voice trembling as I lost it inside but kept it together for appearances. “He’s…definitely a catch.”
“Right?” Lily gushed, completely unaware of my turmoil as she placed her phone, still unlocked, on the table.
A phone on a manicurist’s table | Source: Midjourney
I forced a laugh, but my mind was racing.
“Excuse me,” I said, standing abruptly. I grabbed her phone quickly when she wasn’t looking. “I need to use the restroom.”
Once inside, I splashed cold water on my face, trying to steady my breathing. Adam. My Adam. Cheating with Lily? I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. But as the shock subsided, another emotion took its place: fury.
I wasn’t going to let this slide. I started plotting, and my revenge was going to be served cold tonight at the hotel across the street.
An upset woman in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney
I quickly saved Lily’s husband’s number on my phone, as he was a big part of my revenge.
After I finished my appointment with Lily, I called her husband and told him everything I knew about her affair with Adam. He was as shocked as I was and quickly on board with getting revenge that very night!
Before heading to the hotel together later that night, I insisted we stop at the hardware store. James trailed behind me as I loaded our cart with cans of unwashable paint.
A woman with paint cans | Source: Midjourney
“What’s this for?” he asked, still trying to make sense of my erratic behavior.
“I figured we could mark the cheaters with it. You’ll see,” I said curtly.
When we arrived at the hotel, James and I stood outside the hotel with our “props,” ready to make the “couple’s” meeting unforgettable.
“Are we seriously doing this?” James asked.
“Watch me,” I said with determination as I marched straight through the hotel’s doors, paint cans in hand!
An upset woman outside a hotel with paint cans | Source: Midjourney
When I flung open the doors, I expected to catch Adam and Lily red-handed. But instead, I found myself face-to-face with an entrance full of balloons, streamers, and a massive banner that read: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY LOVE!”
My jaw dropped. Standing in the middle of the room were Lily and Adam, grinning like a pair of mischievous kids. Behind them were my parents, my sister, and a handful of close friends!
“Surprise!” everyone yelled.
People at a surprise party | Source: Midjourney
I stood frozen, the paint cans slipping from my hands. “What…is this?” I stammered.
Adam stepped forward, his dimples on full display.
“It’s your birthday party, sweetheart! We wanted to do something special for you seeing as you ALWAYS forget your birthday.”
“Wait,” I said, my brain struggling to catch up. “So…you’re not cheating?”
Adam laughed, pulling me into a hug.
“Of course not. Lily, James, and I have been planning this for weeks!”
A man at a party | Source: Midjourney
James smiled, and that’s when I finally noticed that he’d joined the others. He stood embracing his wife as Lily chimed in, “You should’ve seen your face! Priceless!”
I burst into tears, overwhelmed with relief and embarrassment. “I thought…”
Adam cupped my face, wiping away my tears.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone that far with the plan. I thought you’d pick up what was happening when I booked your manicurist appointment, but you have to admit, this was worth it.”
It was…
A happy man | Source: Midjourney
The party was a smashing success, filled with laughter, cake, and heartfelt toasts! By the time we left the hotel the next morning, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world, albeit a little foolish for my earlier assumptions.
As we approached Adam’s car in the parking lot, we saw “CHEATER!!!!” scrawled across the windshield in bright red lipstick.
I groaned, covering my face. “I am so, so sorry.”
An embarrassed woman | Source: Midjourney
Adam just laughed.
“It’s washable, right? Besides, it’s a good story to tell our kids one day!”
As we cleaned the car together, I couldn’t help but laugh too. If nothing else, this would be a birthday I’d never forget!
A couple outside by a car | Source: Midjourney
Sadly, Adam’s wife isn’t the only woman to suspect her husband of cheating. Click here to read about a wife who believed her husband was cheating with their son’s fiancee only to discover a much harder truth.
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 Spent Every Thanksgiving with My Husband’s Family, but the One Time We Went to Mine Turned into a Nightmare — Story of the Day
Every year, Sarah had to devise a new excuse to explain to her family why they wouldn’t be visiting. “I won’t miss a single-family holiday because of your parents!” her husband Peter always insisted. But this time, Sarah stood her ground and defended her family values.
The end of autumn and the beginning of winter had always been my favorite time of year.
Сrisp air carried the smell of woodsmoke, and the golden leaves gave way to the first frost.
It was the season when my family would gather, no matter what, to share holiday dinners and exchange thoughtful gifts.
Those gatherings were the heart of my childhood, moments of warmth and laughter that felt like nothing else in the world.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But since marrying Peter, those moments had become memories. Each year, I found myself on the phone, explaining to my parents why I couldn’t make it.
Why, once again, I’d be spending the holidays with Peter’s family instead of my own.
My mom would try to sound understanding, but I knew it hurt her. It hurt me too.
This year, though, things were going to be different. For the first time, Peter had agreed to spend Thanksgiving with my parents.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It had taken weeks of discussion—if you could call the arguments discussions—but he finally relented.
And now, here we were, strolling through the grocery store, picking out a bottle of wine for my mom, a new roasting pan for my dad, and the ingredients for the pumpkin pie I wanted to bake.
I clutched a small bundle of festive napkins with turkeys printed on them and held them up for Peter’s opinion.
He shrugged. His lack of enthusiasm was obvious, and it had been simmering all day.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Are you okay, love?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
“Yeah. Couldn’t be better,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.
I sighed.
“Are you still upset about going to my parents’ house?”
He stopped walking and turned to me, his face tight with frustration. “Of course, I’m upset! Why should I skip my family’s holiday for your whims?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“My whims?” I said, my voice rising despite myself. “I’ve done this for you every single year since we started dating, Peter. Every. Year.”
“Oh, here we go,” he said with a bitter laugh. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? You didn’t like this, you didn’t like that. What about me? Why don’t you care if I’m happy?”
“Peter,” I said slowly, keeping my voice as steady as possible, “we’ve already talked about this. I just want one season with my parents. If that’s too much for you, maybe we should celebrate separately.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His eyebrows shot up.
“Season? Are you saying you’re skipping Christmas with my family too?”
“Yes,” I replied firmly, though my stomach churned.
“This year, I’m spending the holidays with my parents.”
He laughed, a harsh, humorless sound.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. Then you can explain that to my parents.”
“I will,” I said, keeping my tone quiet and even.
I felt wrung out, as if every ounce of energy had been drained by this conversation. I just wanted it to be over.
We stood in the aisle for a moment, the silence between us louder than the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead.
He grabbed the cart handle and pushed it forward without another word.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I followed, clutching the napkins to my chest, trying to hold on to the excitement that had felt so real just hours ago.
The tension hung heavy in the car as we neared my parents’ house.
Peter gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw set in a way that warned me not to push too hard. But I couldn’t let it go entirely.
“Peter,” I started softly, “please, just be kind to my parents. They’re excited to see us, and they’re nervous about making a good impression.”
He let out a sharp laugh.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, great! Now you’re giving me instructions? Should I juggle for them too? Or maybe do a little dance?”
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not asking for much. I just want this to go well.”
“Well,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly, “maybe you should’ve just invited them to join us at my family’s house. Wouldn’t that have been easier?”
I shook my head, exasperated. “Peter, they’re old. Traveling for the holidays isn’t easy for them.”
“Great. Just perfect!” he muttered, throwing one hand up dramatically before gripping the wheel again.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The rest of the drive was silent except for the hum of the engine.
I focused on the frosty trees lining the road, trying to calm the knot in my stomach.
When we arrived, I forced a smile and rang the doorbell.
My mom, Charlotte, opened the door almost immediately, her face lighting up as she threw her arms around us.
“I’m so happy to see you! Finally, you’re here!” she exclaimed, her warmth like a balm to my nerves.
Behind her, my dad, Kevin, offered a small, reserved smile, his usual quiet presence grounding the moment.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Peter muttered a half-hearted “hello” and walked inside without eye contact.
I gave my mom an apologetic look, silently willing her to understand. Then, with a deep breath, I followed him into the house.
Inside the warm glow of the house, my mom and I moved around the dining room, setting the table with care.
The soft clatter of plates and the occasional hum of her voice filled the space as we arranged the dishes.
In the living room, Peter sat stiffly on the couch, his arms crossed, while my dad quietly flipped through a magazine beside him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mom glanced toward Peter, her movements slowing. “Is Peter okay?” she asked softly. “He seems… upset.”
I hesitated, trying to find the right words.
“He’s just… frustrated, I think,” I said finally, keeping my voice low. “He wishes we were spending the holiday with his family.”
Her hands paused mid-air, holding a serving spoon. “Oh,” she said, her tone tinged with confusion and sadness. “Did we do something wrong?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“No, Mom,” I said quickly. “It’s not you. It’s just—” I stopped, unsure how to explain the unspoken tension between Peter and me. “It’s complicated.”
She looked at me, her brows drawn together.
“We’re not family to him?” she asked quietly, almost to herself.
Her words hit me like a cold wind. I didn’t know how to respond.
Was that how Peter saw it? My family, my parents—were they nothing to him? The thought stung more than I wanted to admit.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. For Peter’s mood? For his indifference? For years I’d put my family on hold for his?
Mom placed a hand on my arm, her touch warm and steady.
“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart,” she said gently.
But her eyes still held a shadow of hurt, and it lingered in the air as we finished setting the table in silence.
The table was set beautifully, with crisp white linens, shining silverware, and the aroma of roasted turkey filling the room.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My mom, Charlotte, stood back to admire her work before clapping her hands.
“Everything’s ready! Come and eat!” she said with cheerful warmth, her voice echoing into the quiet living room.
We all gathered around the table. My dad, Kevin, pulled out my mom’s chair for her, and I couldn’t help but smile at his small gesture of old-fashioned chivalry.
Peter followed sluggishly, barely making an effort to engage, and slumped into his seat with a sigh.
The meal began, but the air was tense like a storm waiting to break. My mom tried valiantly to spark a conversation.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“So, Peter,” she started brightly, “how’s work going? Busy this time of year?”
He gave a noncommittal grunt, stabbing a piece of turkey with his fork.
“Dad’s been working on the deck in the backyard,” I chimed in, trying to fill the silence. “It’s really coming together.”
My dad nodded. “It’s slow, but it keeps me busy. Maybe you could come by and give me some tips, Peter.”
Peter didn’t even look up. “Yeah, maybe,” he muttered, flicking a crumb off the table.
I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Peter,” I said softly, leaning toward him, “what’s wrong? Can I help?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter and leaned back in his chair. “Everything’s wrong!” he snapped, his voice loud enough to make my mom flinch.
“How is this even Thanksgiving without my mom’s chocolate pudding?”
“Pudding?” my mom echoed, her voice unsure, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for her glass of water.
“It’s fine,” I interjected quickly, trying to calm the situation. “His mom always makes it for him. It’s no big deal.”
Peter scoffed, his eyes blazing. “No big deal? Of course! Because nothing I want ever matters. It’s always about Sarah, isn’t it? What Sarah wants. What Sarah needs.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Peter, please,” I begged, my voice cracking. “This is supposed to be a happy day.”
He pushed his chair back, the chair’s legs screeching against the floor. “Listen, I’m done! We’re leaving. Get your coat, Sarah!”
“NO, YOU LISTEN!” my dad shouted after Peter, jumping up from his chair. But Peter just ignored him and walked right past! I saw my dad clutch his chest.
The weight of the moment pressed on me as I stood slowly. My mom’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, Mom,” I said, my throat tightening. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this.”
I walked to the doorway, where Peter stood waiting, arms crossed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Put your coat on! We’re leaving!” he barked.
“No,” I said, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. “You’re leaving. I’m staying.”
“What? You’re my wife. You’re supposed to listen to me!”
I took a deep breath, meeting his glare.
“You don’t respect my parents, you don’t respect me, and behaving like this, you don’t even respect yourself. I’ve put up with your selfishness for years, hoping the loving man I married was still there. But now, I don’t believe he is.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You want to talk about respect?” he sputtered, disbelief written all over his face.
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “Leave, Peter. It’s over.”
His mouth opened, but no words came. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
I returned to the dining room, my heart pounding, and found my parents sitting quietly, their faces a mixture of sadness and concern.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry, Mom. Dad,” I said, my voice soft but resolute.
“I let this go on for too long. But not anymore.”
Charlotte stood and wrapped me in a warm hug. “You’re home now. That’s all that matters,” she whispered.
For the first time in years, I felt free. I had chosen the family that truly mattered and wouldn’t trade them for anything.
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