Mary always trusted Stephen’s excuses for missing important events. But when another “business trip” threatened to ruin her birthday, she dug deeper. What she discovered about his secret life left her reeling in shock and disbelief.
It started innocently enough. “It’s for a business trip out east,” Stephen would say, smoothing his tie with that familiar, reassuring smile.
“Another trip to DC for 8 days,” he’d add, pecking me on the cheek as he grabbed his suitcase, ready to leave me in our increasingly empty home.
I’m Mary, an HR executive at a tech firm, and business trips aren’t exactly common for me. But Stephen? He seemed to be on the go constantly, at least four times a month.
At first, I was understanding. It was his job, after all. But when he started missing every important event, including our anniversary, my birthday, and family gatherings, I began to resent the very sound of his suitcase wheels rolling across our hardwood floors.
This year, he was going to miss my birthday. Again. I could barely contain my frustration as I confronted him the night before he was set to leave.
“Stephen, you’re seriously going to miss my birthday for another so-called business trip?” I snapped, hands on my hips, glaring at him.
He looked up from packing, a sheepish expression on his face. “I’m sorry, babe. You know I don’t have a choice. It’s work.”
The same words. Every time.
“I promise, I’ll make it up to you,” he said, zipping up his suitcase.
But promises from Stephen had started to feel as empty as our home.
That night, lying in bed alone, my mind raced.
I don’t want to celebrate my birthday alone this year, I thought. I can’t let him go.
After thinking for a while, I finally decided to call his boss. Maybe, just maybe, he could reschedule Stephen’s trip.
The following morning, I searched his boss’s number on the internet and called him. A cheerful voice answered.
“This is John, how can I help you?”
“Hi, John. It’s Mary, Stephen’s wife. I was wondering if there’s any way you could reschedule his trip. It’s my birthday tomorrow, and he’s supposed to leave…”
John’s voice faltered, sounding genuinely confused. “Mary, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Stephen isn’t scheduled for any business trips. In fact, he hasn’t been on any business trips recently.
My heart pounded in my chest. “Are you sure? He’s been traveling so much for work, at least four times a month.”
“I’m positive. Traveling isn’t part of Stephen’s responsibilities.”
I hung up, my hands trembling. My mind was spinning. If Stephen wasn’t going on business trips, then where was he going?
Instead of confronting him, I decided to play along. I wanted to catch him in the act. Later that day, I kissed him goodbye as he left for his supposed trip.
“Have a safe flight,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Thanks, babe. I’ll call you when I land,” he replied, giving me a quick hug before heading out the door.
I watched from the window as a cab pulled up. Stephen got in, and as soon as they drove off, I grabbed my keys and rushed to my car.
My heart was racing, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but I needed to know the truth.
I kept a safe distance behind the taxi, my mind reeling with possibilities. Was he having an affair? Was he in trouble? The thought of him lying to me, of all the missed events, all the lonely nights was almost too much to bear.
As I followed the cab into an unfamiliar part of town, a sense of dread settled in my stomach. The cab wasn’t heading towards the airport. Where was he going?
I tried to stay calm, but my mind was racing. We twisted and turned through streets I didn’t recognize until, finally, I realized where we were headed.
Stephen’s grandparents’ house. I had only been there once, years ago, when his parents had restored it. It was a beautiful old home, but no one lived there anymore. Why was he going there? What was he hiding?
The cab came to a halt in front of the house, and I watched as Stephen got out and walked to the door.
He had a key, of course. He opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. My heart was pounding. This was it. The moment of truth.
Once the cab drove off, I parked my car a little down the street.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. I got out, walked up to the house, and knocked on the door.
My heart was in my throat as I waited for him to answer.
Stephen opened the door, and his face paled when he saw me. “Mary, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here, Stephen? You told me you were going on a business trip! Are you cheating on me? Is she here?”
My voice was shaking with anger and hurt.
He looked at me, surprisingly calm. “Mary, please. Calm down. Come inside. Let me explain.”
I hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside.
The house smelled faintly of dust and old wood, just as I remembered
Stephen closed the door behind me and led me into the living room.
“Mary,” he began, his voice steady, “I’m not cheating on you. I came here because I need a break sometimes. From everything. From the city, from work, from… from us. This house is peaceful. It’s where I can think.”
I stared at him, my mind spinning. “You come here… to be alone?”
He nodded. “Yes. To be alone. I’m sorry I lied to you. I didn’t know how to tell you without hurting you.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But something didn’t add up.
I glanced around the room, and my eyes landed on the kitchen. The sink was wet, and there were freshly washed dishes drying on the counter.
Stephen had only been here for a few minutes. He couldn’t have done that.
“Stephen,” I said slowly, my voice trembling, “if you just got here, how did those dishes get washed?”
He looked at me, his face suddenly wary. “I… I did them last time I was here.”
But I didn’t believe him.
I walked past him, heading towards the kitchen. “Mary, what are you doing?” he called after me, but I didn’t stop.
I moved through the house, my heart pounding in my ears. The kitchen was spotless, but I kept going. Down the hallway, past the old photographs of his grandparents, to the bedroom.
The bed was made, and everything looked untouched. But then I noticed the bathroom door, slightly ajar
I pushed it open, and there she was. A woman, hiding in the bathroom, looking terrified.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I turned back to Stephen, who had followed me down the hallway.
It was at that point I realized that every time he said he was traveling for work, he was actually going to meet this woman. His mistress.
“How could you?” I choked out. “How could you lie to me like this?”
He tried to reach for me, his face filled with regret. “Mary, I’m sorry. I—
“Just shut up, okay?” I yelled at him, my vision blurred with tears. “Don’t. Just… don’t. I can’t believe this. You had been lying to me this whole time. You’ve been sleeping with other women…”
I rushed past him, out of the house, and back to my car. He followed me outside, pleading with me to listen, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t listen to any more lies.
“Stephen, we’re done. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’ll send you the divorce papers soon.”
I got into my car and drove away, tears streaming down my face.
The man I thought I knew, the man I loved, had been lying to me all along. As I drove through the unfamiliar streets, I felt a strange sense of relief.
It was over. It was finally over.
In the days that followed, I filed for divorce. The moment I caught Stephen cheating replayed in my mind endlessly, each time piercing my heart anew
I felt hurt and lonely, the betrayal cutting deep, but I knew I couldn’t live with a cheater.
Friends and family rallied around me, offering support and love, and reminding me of my strength.
Slowly, I began to rebuild my life, focusing on my career and finding solace in small joys. The road ahead was uncertain, but with each passing day, I grew more confident in my decision, knowing I deserved honesty and respect.
