It was an accident. Emily had never been one to check her husband's phone. She trusted him. Or at least, she thought she did.
One night, Thomas had left his phone charging on the kitchen counter. As she passed by, the screen lit up with a message from an unknown number:
"Can't wait for tonight. I've missed you."
Emily's breath caught in her throat. The words stared back at her, cruel and undeniable.
Her hands trembled as she picked up the phone. Her heart pounded in her ears. She wanted to believe it was innocent—maybe a wrong number, maybe a joke. But her gut told her the truth.
She scrolled up, her stomach twisting tighter with every exchanged message. Flirtation. Plans. Late-night rendezvous. And then, the worst part explicit confessions of love.
The room spun. The air felt thick, suffocating. Emily clutched the counter for support. The perfect life she thought she had was crumbling before her eyes.
CONFRONTATION
That night, Emily sat in the dimly lit living room, waiting. Thomas walked in around midnight, looking exhausted but indifferent, as if coming home to his wife and children was just another chore.
"Hey," he muttered, tossing his keys on the table.
Emily stood. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides. "Who is she, Thomas?"
He froze, his expression unreadable for a fraction of a second before slipping into an easy, practiced smile. "What are you talking about?"
Emily held up his phone. "I saw the messages."
Silence.
Then, a sharp laugh. "Jesus, Emily. You're really checking my phone now?" He shook his head. "This is exactly why"
"Don't turn this around on me," she snapped, her voice shaking with fury. "Just tell me the truth."
But Thomas didn't admit to anything. He played the victim. Claimed she was paranoid. Blamed her for being insecure. By the end of the argument, Emily was left questioning her own sanity.
THE LIES DEEPEN
The next few weeks were hell. Emily tried to act normal for the sake of their children, but her mind raced constantly. She dug deeper, looking for proof. What she found was worse than she had imagined.
Bank statements revealed hidden accounts. Emails hinted at secret meetings. A second phone number, one he kept buried in his work bag.
Thomas wasn't just having an affair. He was leading a double life.
Emily confronted him again, this time armed with evidence. He didn't deny it anymore. But instead of remorse, he scoffed.
"You don't understand how hard I work," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "I deserve to have something for myself."
Emily's world shattered. This wasn't just betrayal—it was utter disregard for the life they had built together.