I froze when I tuned into the local radio livestream. A woman requested a special love song for my husband, dedicating it to their first anniversary. A week later, I called the same station, but for a reason my husband could never have imagined.
So, it was one of those nights where everything just felt heavy. It was pouring rain. My nerves were shot, and I just wanted to be home with a cup of chamomile tea.
As I was fiddling with the radio, trying to find something to drown out my thoughts, I stumbled upon our local DJ, Max. His goofy banter was a bit of a comfort. Then, as one of my favorite songs, “One Love,” ended, Max announced a new caller…
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“Alright folks, up next is Jessie! Who are you dedicating this song to, sweetheart?”
Jessie giggled. “Hi Max! This one goes out to the most amazing man I’ve ever met, my Ori-bear. We’ve been together a whole year now, and I can’t believe how lucky I am!”
I couldn’t help but smile. I was in love too. But then she said:
“He might get embarrassed, but everyone calls him Mr. Lamber. This song goes out to you, Oric. ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ is exactly how you make me feel!”
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My heart stopped. Oric? That’s my husband’s name, and it’s pretty unique. The odds of another Oric alias Mr. Lamber seemed impossible. My stomach turned.
I pulled over, my hands shaking. “Oh my God… is he… is he having an affair?” I whispered, hoping the universe had played some kind of twisted joke on me.
But deep down, I knew. The song, the name, it all clicked into place. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sat there, the DJ’s voice and the song’s cheesy lyrics stabbing at my heart.
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Memories flooded back: Oric’s late nights at the office, the missed dinners, the faint scent of unfamiliar perfume. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was just sit there, numb.
Then my phone buzzed. It was Oric: “Sorry, hon! I’ll be late tonight. Have some important work! XOXO.”
Important work. Yeah, right. I knew exactly what “important work” Oric would be attending to tonight.
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He wasn’t going to get away with this. If this little radio charade was indeed proof of his infidelity, I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The rest of the night was a blur.
I tried to eat, but my stomach wouldn’t let me. I just sat there on the bed, staring at my phone, waiting for a sign that this was all some huge misunderstanding.
At 3:45 AM, I heard his car. I pretended to sleep as he quietly came into the room. I wanted to confront him, to scream, but I held back. I needed to be sure.
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Morning arrived, and so did my suspicion. I called in sick, a flimsy excuse of a headache escaping my lips.
“Ah, darling, I want a break! Thought we could take a long drive,” I turned to Oric. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape. My eyes were drilling into his, looking for hints. Any guesses about what he said?
“Actually, Suzanna,” Oric stammered, “I have a crucial client meeting this morning. Big deal, you know!” He offered a sheepish apology, suggesting a shopping spree with friends as an alternative.
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As he rummaged for his keys, I swooped in, casually picking up his phone from the coffee table.
A flush crept up his neck as he lunged for it. I held it out of reach, amusement flickering in my eyes as I swiped the screen. “Changed the password, Oric?” I turned to him.
“It’s just work stuff, honey,” he offered, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “You wouldn’t be interested, trust me. Boring stuff, you know!”
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“Isn’t that what we promised?” I countered, my gaze unwavering. “No secrets, remember?”
A weak laugh escaped his lips. “Businessmen have to keep certain things confidential, sweetheart. You wouldn’t understand.”
I met his gaze, the smile fading from my face. “Oh, is that it, Oric? Businessmen? Or something else entirely?”
He avoided my eyes. Well, how could he muster the courage to face me?
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“I, uh, I’ll give you the password later,” he then mumbled, snatching his phone back.
Later? The word sent a cold dread spiraling down my spine. Later meant enough time to disappear… to erase any incriminating evidence.
Offering a smirk, I then started sorting laundry. That’s when I noticed something strange: a long, brunette hair clinging to Oric’s collar. I was blonde. A brunette hair on my husband’s shirt screamed a story I wasn’t quite prepared to hear.
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“Oric!” I called, holding the offending strand aloft.
“What’s that, honey?” He came running.
“This,” I said, thrusting the hair under his nose. “Found it on your shirt. Care to explain?”
He took one glance, then shrugged dismissively. “Probably someone brushed against me on the bus last night.”
“The bus? Weren’t you taking the car?” I held his gaze.
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His eyes darted to the pristine black SUV parked outside. “Uh, yeah, but it broke down halfway. Took the bus to a mechanic, then he towed it.”
A lie tangled with another.
“Hold on, Oric,” I cut him off. “We both know that’s a lie. Spill it. Which mechanic did you actually take the car to?”
He avoided my gaze. Before I could unleash the full force of my anger, he mumbled something about being late. A hurried peck on the cheek, and he was out the door, briefcase clutched tightly.
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The day stretched on, suspicion gnawing at my insides. No calls, no texts, just the burning ache of betrayal and a hollow feeling in my gut. Finally, at 6 p.m., a text arrived:
“Dinner with clients. Don’t wait up. XOXO .“
The once-endearing emojis now felt like a stinging slap.
The next morning, the bed was empty, a chilling absence where Oric’s warmth should have been. In its place, two missed calls and a voice message on my phone:
“Hey babe, just a quick heads-up. Short business trip with a client. Back in five days. Love you, miss you. Mwah!”
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Five days. Five days to stew in this agonizing uncertainty. But one thing was clear: this trip wasn’t about business. It was a desperate attempt to escape the truth, a truth I was determined to unearth.
“Five days,” I muttered, quickly ringing Oric. “We’ll see about that.”
All my calls went unanswered. I grabbed the car keys and the next thing I knew, I was outside Oric’s office building.
The receptionist, a woman with a nametag that read “Sarah,” offered a tight smile. “Can I help you?”
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“Hi Sarah, I’m Suzanna. Is my husband, Oric, in the office today? He mentioned a last-minute business trip, and I was hoping to get some details.” Her smile faltered and said:
“Uh, Mrs. Lamber, actually, Mr. Lamber hasn’t been in all week.”
My stomach lurched. A concerned frown creased Sarah’s brow. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” I lied through gritted teeth, rushing out of the lobby and to my car.
Where was he? Was he with her? My head pounded with a million questions, each one sharper than the last.
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Five days crawled by. Every unanswered text, every silent phone call, chipped away at the last vestiges of hope.
Then, one evening, the front door creaked open. Oric stood there, exhaustion etched on his face. He wore a casual outfit I’d never seen before.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbled, offering a tired smile. “Sorry about that. Last-minute deal. Had to stay with a client to finalize everything.” I crossed my arms, not believing a word.
“That’s quite a story, Oric. Especially since I visited your office and found out a little truth. Where were you exactly? Spill it.”
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The smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear in his eyes. “You… you went to the office?”
“Just a little fact-finding mission, honey!” I said. “You wouldn’t believe the fun facts I learned.”
He started to stammer. “What are you talking about, babe? Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course, I do!” I echoed. “Oh, Oric, you have no idea what kind of surprise I have planned for you.” His eyes darted between me and the door. “Surprise?”
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“Oh yes,” I purred, pushing him playfully towards the bedroom. “Get ready, honey. You’re going to love it.”
He followed me, brow furrowed in confusion. But for the first time in days, a sliver of hope bloomed in my chest. The truth would come out, and tonight, the tables were finally about to turn.
“Just you wait,” I playfully whispered. “This surprise is going to be epic. You’re gonna love it, babe!”
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Minutes later, Oric emerged from the bedroom in a crisp blue suit.
He leaned in for a kiss, but I held him at bay. “Patience, honey,” I murmured. “The best things are worth waiting for.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion, but he followed me out to the car without further comment. As I pulled out of the driveway, a mischievous glint gleamed in my eyes.
“Let’s make a quick stop,” I announced, taking a detour towards his parents’ house.
Oric’s jaw dropped when he saw them waiting on the porch, smiles plastered on their faces.
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“Babe, what’s going on?” he exclaimed.
“Surprise!” his parents chorused, bustling towards the car.
My MIL squeezed into the back seat, beaming at me. “Suzanna, dear, this is wonderful! It’s been ages since we’ve all had dinner together. With Oric always so busy with work…”
I glanced at him, a pointed look in my eyes. “Yeah, right!” I said, my voice dripping with irony. “Mr. Lamber here is swamped these days.”
Oric let out a sheepish laugh, clearly bewildered by this sudden turn of events.
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As I drove to the restaurant, a glance at the dashboard clock confirmed it was showtime. I tuned the radio to the familiar station, DJ Max’s cheerful voice filling the car.
“Alright folks, welcome back! Up next is Emma, and she’s dedicating a song to the love of her life. And here we go! Enjoy the track, folks!” he chirped.
As the last notes of the love song faded away, the DJ prompted the next song’s dedication. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number for the radio station.
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As soon as a cheery voice answered, I blurted out, “Hi, this is Suzanna. I’d like to dedicate a song with a special message to my husband, Oric.”
“Whoa there, Suzanna,” the DJ boomed. “Sounds like there’s a story behind this special song dedication! Mind sharing it with our listeners?”
A flush crept up Oric’s neck.
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Taking another deep breath, I plunged into the story. I spoke of the betrayal, the shattered trust, the way I’d stumbled upon the truth, a truth that had left me reeling.
As I spoke, I stole a glance at Oric. The color had drained from his face, replaced by a sickly pallor. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, his gaze desperately pleading with me to stop but I continued:
“And there’s more. It seems Oric’s little secret wasn’t so secret after all. Thanks to his… ‘special friend’ who called in last week to dedicate a love song, his infidelity is out in the open. And let me tell you, Oric’s parents deserve to know exactly what kind of son they’ve raised!”
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The DJ fell silent for a moment. Then, a gentle sympathy seeped into his voice. “Suzanna, that’s a story that deserves to be heard. We can only imagine the pain you’re going through right now. Thanks for calling and here’s a song that might echo a little bit of what you’re feeling.”
As a heartbreaking ballad filled the airwaves, I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. I got out of the car and left Oric and his bewildered parents scrambling to keep up.
I settled at a familiar table by the window. This was the same table where we’d shared our first date, filled with hopes and dreams that now lay shattered on the floor.
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Without a word, I slipped off my wedding ring. Slamming it on the table, I met Oric’s pleading gaze. “Consider this my treat,” I finally declared, “for our upcoming divorce.”
The clatter of the ring on the table echoed in the sudden silence. Oric’s parents, mouths agape, stared between me and their son, their faces etched with dawning horror.
“Suzanna, honey, what’s going on?” Oric’s mother stammered. “What did Oric do?”
“Ask your beloved son who’s playing innocent,” I countered. “The radio said it all.”
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Oric, desperation etched on his face, reached for me. “Suzanna, please,” he pleaded. “Let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like.”
But the words rang hollow. The blind trust I’d placed in him, the years of love and devotion, all felt like a cruel joke as I said:
“There’s nothing left to explain. This marriage is over.”
His father, a stern-looking man with a salt-and-pepper beard, finally found his voice. “Oric,” he boomed, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Is this true? What Suzanna says? Were you having an extramarital affair?”
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Oric mumbled something incoherent, his gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal.
“Don’t lie to your father,” his mother snapped. “We deserve the truth.”
Shame finally flickered in Oric’s eyes. He hung his head, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. “There is someone else,” he finally confessed. “But it meant nothing. It was a mistake.”
“A mistake that destroyed our trust, our future,” I choked out. “You lied to me, Oric. For how long? How would you feel if I did this to you?”
He remained silent. But his damn silence wasn’t gonna fix things.
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“I can’t stay here,” I declared. “I need some air.”
With a final, withering glance at Oric, I pushed myself away from the table and walked out of the restaurant, the clatter of the wedding ring against the table echoing in my wake.
It broke my heart to do this, but tell me, was what he did right? Did I deserve to live a life of lies with a man who not only cheated on me but also wished to keep me in the dark all my life?
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Here’s another story about how a woman unraveled her husband’s secret when their daughter chirped about her new teacher, “Daddy has a picture of her!”
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.
Boy Saves Millionaire’s Granddaughter and Takes Her Home – What He Discovers in Their Mansion Leaves Him Numb
A heroic act by a young boy transformed a routine day into an unforgettable adventure. Little did he know, the life he saved belonged to a millionaire’s granddaughter, leading him to an astonishing discovery.
A close up of a young boy | Source: Pexels
Jackson was walking down the street, focused on typing a text message. Suddenly, he was distracted by a chaotic scene unfolding ahead. A little girl on a scooter sped past him, heading straight for a busy intersection. She didn’t notice the red traffic light.
Without thinking, Jackson lunged forward and grabbed the edge of her dress. The girl shrieked but didn’t lose her balance. A moment later, the scooter crashed under the wheels of a speeding car. The girl, now safely in Jackson’s arms, trembled but was unharmed.
A vintage scooter on the street | Source: Pexels
The girl’s house was just a few blocks away. As they approached, Jackson noticed it was a grand mansion, surrounded by a lush park and an elaborate playground. He wondered how a child from such a place ended up on the street alone.
“Wow…” was all Jackson could manage.
A white concrete mansion with green plants | Source: Pexels
Inside the mansion, they were led to a vast hall adorned with fine art and luxurious decor. But Jackson’s attention was caught by a colored portrait with a black frame. It was a portrait of him!
“What the…?” Jackson’s voice trailed off.
Before he could process this surreal scene, a man’s voice interrupted the silence. “I see you’ve found your way home, Jackson.”
Jackson turned to see an elderly man. The girl ran towards the man and embraced him.
A young girl hugging her grandfather from behind | Source: Pexels
Jackson explained that he had saved her from danger. The man smiled warmly and introduced himself as Phillip Edwards, revealing that this was his home. Still processing everything, Jackson asked why a photo of him was hanging on their wall.
Phillip sighed, “Jackson, there’s something you need to know. You’re my grandson.”
Jackson’s eyes widened in shock. “What? How is that possible?”
A young boy with light hitting his face | Source: Pexels
Phillip continued, his voice filled with emotion, “I have been keeping an eye on you for years. Your reaction now shows how little you knew about this. Your mother ran away from home because I was forcing her to marry a man from another rich family. She was pregnant with her first love’s child at the time and didn’t tell us.”
Jackson felt his knees weaken. “She never told me any of this.”
A teenager sitting on a couch while looking down | Source: Pexels
“She cut ties with everyone,” Phillip said, his eyes moistening. “I had her followed and discovered she was expecting. I tried to contact her, but she wanted nothing to do with us. She decided to live a normal life and became a teacher.”
Jackson was at a loss for words, his mind racing with this new revelation. “So, all this time, you knew about me?”
Phillip nodded. “Yes, and I’m so sorry for everything. I wanted to make things right but didn’t know how to approach you.”
Jackson looked around the grand mansion, trying to process everything. “This is overwhelming. I don’t know what to say.”
A pensive teen looking up | Source: Pexels
Phillip placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Take your time, Jackson. We have all the time in the world to figure this out together.”
The conversation left Jackson reeling, but he knew one thing for certain—his life had just changed forever.
Jackson returned home that day, his mind swirling with the revelations. He feared bringing up the subject with his mother. He understood why she left home and didn’t want to upset her.
A teenage boy crouching on footpath | Source: Pexels
Days passed, and Jackson continued to visit the mansion, thanks to his grandfather, who told him he could stop by anytime. He got to know more about his younger cousin, Layla, and his aunts and uncles. Yet, it bothered him that his mother had no idea he had discovered his other family.
Jackson often reflected on his own life during these visits. He had grown up an only child, and his mother raised him single-handedly while on the run. She had always been his rock, providing for him and nurturing him with unwavering love and strength.
A young boy with his mother | Source: Pexels
He thought about the sacrifices his mother made to give him a normal life. She worked tirelessly as a teacher, ensuring he had everything he needed.
Her determination and resilience had always inspired him. Knowing now that she had cut ties with her family to protect him and her love, Jackson felt a deep sense of gratitude and admiration for her.
A young boy embracing his mother | Source: Pexels
However, the discovery of his extended family brought him mixed emotions. He enjoyed spending time with Layla, laughing and playing in the mansion’s playground. He found solace in the company of his aunts and uncles, who welcomed him with open arms. But there was a lingering unease in his heart.
He wondered if his mother missed her family. Did she ever think about them? Did she regret her decision to leave? These questions weighed heavily on Jackson’s mind. He wanted to share his newfound connections with his mother, but he feared reopening old wounds.
A woman looking at her son | Source: Pexels
His grandfather, Phillip, became a guiding presence in his life. They spent hours talking, with Phillip sharing stories about Jackson’s mother and their family history. Jackson learned about the family’s legacy, their successes, and the challenges they faced.
He appreciated the bond forming between him and his grandfather, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of betraying his mother’s trust. As he reflected on his life, he realized how much he had missed by not knowing his extended family.
A grandfather hiking with his grandson | Source: Pexels
The laughter, the stories, the sense of belonging—these were things he had always yearned for but never knew he could have. He felt torn between his loyalty to his mother and his desire to embrace this new chapter of his life.
Jackson knew he had to tread carefully. He needed to find a way to bridge the gap between his two worlds without causing his mother pain.
A woman comforting his son by placing her hand on his head | Source: Pexels
The journey ahead was uncertain, but he was determined to navigate it with compassion and understanding, honoring both his mother’s sacrifices and his newfound family connections.
Finally, one day, Jackson gathered the courage to tell his mother about his discovery. As they were sitting in their cozy living room looking through magazines, he took a deep breath.
A woman and her son sitting on a couch and looking at magazines | Source: Pexels
“Mom, I need to tell you something,” Jackson began, his voice trembling slightly. “I accidentally met your family.”
His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, and she leaned forward. “What do you mean, Jackson?”
He recounted the events of that fateful day, from saving the little girl to meeting Phillip Edwards and learning about his extended family. His mother listened quietly, her expression a mix of shock and sadness.
A mother sitting while her young boy stands behind her | Source: Pexels
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jackson asked softly. “Why did you keep this a secret?”
Tears welled up in his mother’s eyes. “I left because I had to, Jackson. I chose love over wealth. Your father was my first love, and when I found out I was pregnant with you, I knew I couldn’t stay. They wanted me to marry someone else, someone rich.”
She paused, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I don’t regret my decision. Your father was a good man. He loved us, and I wouldn’t change anything about my past, even though he passed away. We had a wonderful life, and you were worth every sacrifice.”
A mother having a conversation with her son | Source: Pexels
Jackson reached out and held her hand. “I understand, Mom. I just wanted you to know that I’ve met them. Grandpa Phillip, Layla, and everyone… They’re not what I expected. They welcomed me with open arms.”
She squeezed his hand, her eyes softening. “I’m glad you’ve found them, Jackson. But remember, we built our own family, too. You are my greatest achievement, and I am so proud of you.”
Mother and son embracing | Source: Pexels
Jackson felt a sense of relief wash over him. “I love you, Mom. Thank you for everything.”
“I love you too, Jackson,” she replied, pulling him into a hug. “We’ll figure this out together, one step at a time.”
Jackson felt a new sense of hope. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but with his mother’s support, he knew he could navigate it with love and understanding.
A mother resting her head on her son’s shoulder | Source: Pexels
Relieved, Jackson went back to his grandfather and told him that his mother knew they had found each other. “Grandpa, she knows. We talked about everything.”
Phillip nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “How did she take it?”
“She was surprised, but she understands. She explained why she left and said she has no regrets about her choice,” Jackson replied.
Phillip’s eyes softened. “I’m glad she understands. I always hoped she would come back one day.”
“Will you reach out to her?” Jackson asked, hopeful.
A grandfather and his grandson looking at each other | Source: Pexels
Phillip shook his head gently. “No, Jackson. Your mother should be the one to make the first step. It has to be her decision. We can’t force it on her.”
Jackson nodded, understanding the wisdom in his grandfather’s words. “I see. I just hope that one day she’ll be ready.”
“Me too, son,” Phillip said, placing a comforting hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “Me too.”
With that, Jackson felt a deeper sense of peace. He knew the path ahead was still uncertain, but he had faith that with patience and understanding, his family could heal and grow closer in time.
Grandfather and grandson walking in a garden | Source: Pexels
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