I Attended My Husband’s Office Party for the First Time, but I Never Expected to See His Other ‘Wife’ There

When Jennifer stumbled upon an email inviting her husband to a glamorous New Year’s party with a plus-one allowed, her curiosity was piqued. But what she uncovered at the event shattered her trust, setting the stage for an unexpected twist of fate.

The laptop pinged, interrupting the movie we were watching. Oliver had just gone to the bathroom, leaving his laptop open on the coffee table.

An open laptop | Source: Pexels

An open laptop | Source: Pexels

I glanced at the screen, the glowing subject line catching my eye.

“Dear Mr. Oliver,

We are happy to announce the New Year party is coming up! Dress code: White Party. You may bring your plus-one (your wife). Address…”

A shocked woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels

I blinked, rereading the email. His company never allowed plus-ones. Never. I couldn’t count the number of times I had heard him complain about it. Yet, there it was in black and white—plus-one (your wife).

When Oliver came back, I tried to play it cool, though my curiosity was bubbling. “Your office is throwing a New Year’s party?” I asked casually.

An excited woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels

An excited woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, picking up his laptop and closing it before I could say more. “Nothing big. Just the usual end-of-year stuff.”

“Can I come?” I asked, tilting my head and smiling.

He froze for half a second before brushing it off. “No, they don’t allow guests. It’s more of a work event.”

I frowned. “But the email said—”

A frowning woman on the couch | Source: Pexels

A frowning woman on the couch | Source: Pexels

“They don’t, Jen. Trust me.” His tone was clipped, and he didn’t meet my eyes. “Anyway, I’ll just be working that night. No big deal.”

That was the first time I felt something strange. Oliver always worked late or traveled for business, so I had gotten used to him being away. I trusted him, because that’s what you do in a marriage. But this time, his response felt… off.

A suspicious woman | Source: Pexels

A suspicious woman | Source: Pexels

New Year’s Eve arrived, and I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my white dress. Curiosity had gnawed at me for days. Why didn’t he want me at the party? Was he embarrassed? Hiding something?

“Happy New Year, Jen!” he called as he grabbed his coat, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Happy New Year,” I replied, watching him leave.

A man putting on his coat | Source: Midjourney

A man putting on his coat | Source: Midjourney

As soon as the door clicked shut, I grabbed my purse and headed out.

The hotel where the party was held glowed like a jewel in the night. The lobby was decorated with silver streamers, twinkling lights, and elegant floral arrangements. Guests in sparkling white outfits mingled, laughter and conversation filling the air. I felt both nervous and determined as I approached the reception desk.

A woman in a hotel | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hotel | Source: Midjourney

“Name, please?” the manager asked with a polite smile, glancing up from his clipboard.

“Jennifer. I’m Oliver’s wife,” I said confidently.

His smile faltered for a moment, and he looked down at his list, then back up at me. Then, he laughed. “Nice try!”

“I’m Jennifer,” I repeated. “Oliver’s wife.”

A woman at a reception desk | Source: Midjourney

A woman at a reception desk | Source: Midjourney

The manager’s expression turned awkward. “Oh… uh…” He hesitated, then cleared his throat. “I think there’s been some confusion. Oliver already checked in… with his plus-one. His real wife.”

My chest tightened. “What?”

“Yes, he arrived about 30 minutes ago. They always arrive together, I’ve seen them many times.” He winced slightly, as if bracing for my reaction.

“I’m his wife,” I said sharply, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

A hotel manager | Source: Pexels

A hotel manager | Source: Pexels

He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again, his face apologetic. “Let me double-check the guest list.”

Before he could move, I caught a glimpse of Oliver in the far corner of the room. He was easy to spot in his crisp white suit. My breath caught when I saw him with her—a woman with long dark hair, her arm resting on his shoulder. They were laughing, leaning in close, their body language unmistakably intimate.

A couple at a party | Source: Pexels

A couple at a party | Source: Pexels

The world seemed to spin. The glitzy decorations blurred as my mind raced.

“Ma’am?” the manager asked gently, breaking into my thoughts.

I turned back to him, my voice suddenly calm. “No need to check. I see him.”

He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something, but I was already walking away from the desk, away from the party, and away from Oliver.

A woman leaving a hotel | Source: Midjourney

A woman leaving a hotel | Source: Midjourney

Outside, the cold air stung my face, but it didn’t dull the fire burning inside me. I wrapped my coat tighter around me, my heels clicking on the sidewalk as I made my way to my car.

I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, but I knew one thing: Oliver was going to regret this.

A sad woman walking on the street | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman walking on the street | Source: Midjourney

The next day, the phone rang just as I was pouring my morning coffee. I almost didn’t answer, still angry about last night, but something made me pick up.

“Is this Mr. Oliver’s wife?” a calm, professional voice asked.

“Yes,” I replied, my stomach twisting.

A serious woman walking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A serious woman walking on her phone | Source: Pexels

“This is Mercy Hospital. Your husband was in a car accident early this morning. He’s stable, but we need you to come in right away.”

My breath caught. “A car accident? Is he… is he okay?”

“He has a concussion and a broken arm. There are complications we’ll explain when you arrive.”

A hospital professional talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A hospital professional talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

I didn’t say another word. I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door, my anger from the night before swirling with worry.

At the hospital, the antiseptic smell hit me as I walked into the waiting area. Nurses bustled by, their faces neutral, while I stood there, my heart racing.

“Jennifer?” a doctor called, walking toward me. He was middle-aged, with a kind but serious expression.

A medical professional | Source: Pexels

A medical professional | Source: Pexels

“Yes. Is Oliver okay?”

“He’s stable for now, but there’s an issue we need to address,” he explained, motioning for me to sit. “His arm is fractured in several places. There’s a risk of long-term damage unless we operate soon. Unfortunately, there’s a problem with his insurance. His policy lapsed last month. As his wife, you can authorize the procedure and arrange payment.”

A woman talking to a doctor | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to a doctor | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, trying to process his words. “His insurance… lapsed? Why didn’t he renew it?”

The doctor shook his head. “I can’t speak to that, but we do need to act quickly. Will you authorize the surgery?”

When I stepped into Oliver’s room, the sight of him startled me. His face was pale, a bandage wrapped around his head. His arm was in a sling, and he looked more fragile than I’d ever seen him.

A man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

A man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

“Jen,” he croaked when he saw me, his voice weak.

“Oliver,” I said stiffly, standing by the door.

His eyes searched mine, pleading. “I know you’re upset, but please… just listen. It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, it’s exactly what I think,” I said, my voice icy. “You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me. And last night, I saw you with her. You brought her to that party, didn’t you?”

An angry woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

His face went pale. “I can explain—”

“I don’t want your explanations,” I snapped, cutting him off. “The doctor says you need surgery, but your insurance lapsed. That sounds like a problem for your real wife to handle.”

“Jen, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I made a mistake. Please, just sign the papers.”

A sad man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

A sad man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

I stared at him for a long moment, my heart pounding. Part of me wanted to scream, to cry, to give in and help him. But then I thought of all the times I had trusted him, only to find out it was all a lie.

“No, Oliver,” I said, my voice firm. “You’ve made your choices. Now you can live with them.”

I turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

A woman leaving a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

A woman leaving a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

In the hallway, my steps felt lighter, as if a weight had lifted off my chest. For the first time in years, I realized I wasn’t responsible for cleaning up his messes.

It was over. Whatever happened next was up to him.

A few days later, I received a call from the hospital. It wasn’t the doctor. It was Oliver.

“Jen, please,” he begged. His voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. “She didn’t come. I’m alone here. I need you.”

A man talking on his phone in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

A man talking on his phone in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

I said nothing, gripping the phone tightly as his words sank in. The “real wife” wasn’t so real after all. She hadn’t shown up, not for the surgery, not for anything. She’d disappeared the moment she realized he wasn’t the man he pretended to be.

“Jen?” he whispered.

“You made your choice, Oliver,” I said, my tone steady. “Now you can deal with the consequences.”

A serious woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A serious woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

I hung up and blocked his number.

In the weeks that followed, I heard through mutual friends that Oliver’s career was falling apart. Word of his affair spread at work. The woman he’d paraded at the party was no longer seen with him, and his charm didn’t seem to fool anyone anymore.

But I didn’t feel sorry for him. I felt free.

A woman smiling with a balloon | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling with a balloon | Source: Pexels

For the first time in years, I wasn’t carrying the weight of his lies. Instead of worrying about his needs, I focused on myself.

I signed up for a pottery class—a silly dream I’d put off for years. I spent weekends hiking trails I’d always wanted to explore. I started painting again, filling my apartment with canvases splashed with color.

For years, I, Jennifer, had been the dutiful wife. But now, Jen was stepping into her own life.

A happy woman painting | Source: Pexels

A happy woman painting | Source: Pexels

My Mom Was Locked up in a Closet during My Wedding Ceremony — We Were Shocked to Discover Who Did That to Her and Why

Everything was perfect at my wedding until I noticed my Mom was missing. Moments later, she burst in, disheveled and furious, pointing a trembling finger. We were stunned to learn she’d been locked in a closet by someone close for reasons we could never have imagined.

My whole family was buzzing with excitement about my wedding to Fabian, my longtime boyfriend. But the person floating on cloud nine was my mom, Adele. As an only child, I’d always been close to both my parents, but Mom and I shared a special bond. She’d dreamed of this day for years…

Wedding preparations | Source: Pexels

Wedding preparations | Source: Pexels

We’d spent countless hours planning every detail together. Choosing our outfits felt like a fashion show, cake tasting turned into a sugar-fueled adventure, and when we picked the song for the Father-Daughter dance, we both ended up in tears.

“Oh, Bella,” Mom had said, wiping her eyes as I tried on the wedding gown. “I can’t believe my little girl is all grown up and getting married.”

I hugged her tight. “I’ll always be your little girl, Mom.”

A young woman in a bridal dress sharing an emotional moment with her mother | Source: Pexels

A young woman in a bridal dress sharing an emotional moment with her mother | Source: Pexels

On the big day, everything seemed perfect. I stood at the back of the church, my heart racing as Dad took my arm.

“Ready, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice thick with love.

I nodded, too choked up to speak. The doors swung open, and we began our walk down the aisle. I locked eyes with Fabian, his smile brighter than the sun. But as we neared the altar, my stomach dropped. Something was terribly wrong.

I scanned the sea of faces, panic rising in my chest. MOM WASN’T THERE.

An extremely shocked bride | Source: Midjourney

An extremely shocked bride | Source: Midjourney

“Dad,” I whispered urgently, “where’s Mom?”

His brow furrowed as he looked around. “I… I don’t know. I thought she was here.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, the music screeching to a halt. All eyes turned to me.

“We can’t start,” I said, my voice shaking. “Mom’s missing.”

A startled bride covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney

A startled bride covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney

Fabian rushed to my side, concern etched on his face. “Bella, what’s wrong?”

“My Mom,” I choked out. “She’s not here. We need to find her.”

I turned to my brothers in the front row. “Can you guys look for her? Please?”

They nodded, jumping up and rushing out of the church. Fabian squeezed my hand. “I’m sure she’s fine. Probably just got held up somewhere.”

A bride and groom holding hands | Source: Unsplash

A bride and groom holding hands | Source: Unsplash

But as the minutes ticked by, dread settled in my stomach. This wasn’t like Mom at all. She wouldn’t miss my wedding for the world.

Guests shifted uncomfortably, whispering amongst themselves. I paced back and forth, my wedding dress swishing with each step.

“Maybe we should call the police,” I said, wringing my hands.

Grayscale close-up shot of a woman's teary eyes | Source: Pexels

Grayscale close-up shot of a woman’s teary eyes | Source: Pexels

Fabian put his arm around me. “Let’s give your Dad and brothers a little more time. I’m sure they’ll find her.”

But as an hour crawled by, I felt anything but sure. The church was filled with hushed conversations and worried glances.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I muttered to Fabian. “What if something terrible happened to her?”

He pulled me close. “Try not to think like that. We’ll find her, I promise.”

Grayscale rear view of a bride | Source: Unsplash

Grayscale rear view of a bride | Source: Unsplash

Just when I was about to insist on calling the authorities, the church doors burst open. Mom stumbled in, followed by Dad and my brothers. Her perfectly styled hair was a mess, her makeup smeared, and her golden dress wrinkled.

“Mom!” I cried, rushing towards her. “What happened? Where were you?”

But before she could answer, her eyes locked on someone in the front row. Her face contorted with rage.

“YOU!” she screamed, pointing a shaking finger.

An angry senior woman pointing her finger | Source: Midjourney

An angry senior woman pointing her finger | Source: Midjourney

I followed her gaze, shocked to see my soon-to-be mother-in-law, Grace, shrinking in her seat.

“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked, my heart pounding.

She whirled to face me, her eyes blazing. “Your mother-in-law LOCKED ME in the closet! Can you believe that? Just because I wore an expensive golden dress.”

The church erupted into shocked gasps and furious whispers. I felt like I was in some bizarre dream.

Close-up side view of a casual older woman | Source: Pexels

Close-up side view of a casual older woman | Source: Pexels

“What? That’s crazy,” I sputtered, looking between Mom and Grace.

Grace jumped to her feet, her face pale. “This is ridiculous! I would never—”

“Oh, save it!” Mom snapped, rolling her eyes. “I overheard you telling your sister that you had to be the only one in gold! This isn’t the first time you’ve been jealous, but it’s the first time you’ve done something so horrible because of it.”

Fabian stepped forward, his jaw clenched. “Mom, is this true? Did you lock Mrs. Jacobs in the closet?”

A furious senior woman turning to her side and pointing her finger at someone | Source: Midjourney

A furious senior woman turning to her side and pointing her finger at someone | Source: Midjourney

Grace’s composure crumbled. She wrung her hands, her voice shaky. “I just… I thought… she was trying to outshine me!”

Fabian’s face darkened with anger. “Mom, this is Bella’s wedding day, not yours! How could you do something so petty and cruel? You need to leave. Now.”

“But…” Grace stammered, “I just made a small mistake! I couldn’t stand seeing her get all the attention in that dress.”

“No buts,” Fabian growled. “You’ve ruined enough of this day. Leave.”

Close-up of a man in a black and teal tuxedo | Source: Pexels

Close-up of a man in a black and teal tuxedo | Source: Pexels

Grace’s face twisted into a scowl. “Fine! You’ll regret this!” She snatched up her purse and stormed out, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.

For a moment, no one moved. Then Dad cleared his throat. “Alright, everyone. Let’s get back to celebrating this wonderful couple!”

Slowly, the tension eased. Fabian turned to me, his eyes filled with remorse. “Bella, I’m so sorry. I had no idea my mother would do something so awful like this.”

Portrait of an older woman smirking | Source: Pexels

Portrait of an older woman smirking | Source: Pexels

I squeezed his hand. “It’s not your fault. Let’s just focus on us now, okay?”

He nodded, a small smile returning to his face. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I whispered.

As we retook our places at the altar, I caught Mom’s eye. She gave me a reassuring nod and relief flooded through me. We were going to get through this.

Rear view of a bride and groom seated in front of the altar | Source: Pexels

Rear view of a bride and groom seated in front of the altar | Source: Pexels

The ceremony resumed, and despite the earlier drama, I felt a surge of joy as Fabian and I exchanged our vows. When the priest pronounced us husband and wife, the church erupted in cheers.

As we walked back down the aisle, now as husband and wife, I leaned close to Fabian. “Well, that wasn’t quite how I imagined our wedding going.”

He chuckled softly. “Me neither. But hey, at least it’ll be a wedding no one forgets, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s one way to look at it.”

A newlywed couple holding hands and walking together | Source: Unsplash

A newlywed couple holding hands and walking together | Source: Unsplash

The reception was in full swing, the earlier chaos all but forgotten as guests danced and laughed. I found myself by the punch bowl, finally able to breathe.

“Some wedding, huh?” a voice said beside me. I turned to see Aunt Wima, shaking her head. “I can’t believe Grace did that. What a nightmare of a mother-in-law.”

“I know,” I sighed. “It’s still hard to process.”

Another guest chimed in. “I’m glad Fabian stood up to her. Shows what kind of man he is.”

People dancing at a wedding reception | Source: Pexels

People dancing at a wedding reception | Source: Pexels

I smiled, spotting Fabian across the room. He caught my eye and winked, making my heart flutter.

“Speaking of nightmares,” Aunt Wilma continued, “where is your Mom? Poor thing must be traumatized.”

I scanned the room, realizing I hadn’t seen her in a while. “I should go check on her.”

A smiling bride holding a bouquet | Source: Unsplash

A smiling bride holding a bouquet | Source: Unsplash

I found Mom sitting alone on a bench in the garden, staring at the stars. She looked up as I approached, a sad smile on her face.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said softly.

I sat down beside her, taking her hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Mom.”

She squeezed my fingers. “It’s alright, sweetheart. The important thing is that you’re happy and married to a wonderful man.”

A bride smiling with her eyes closed | Source: Midjourney

A bride smiling with her eyes closed | Source: Midjourney

I felt tears prick my eyes. “But it’s not alright. This was supposed to be perfect, and instead…”

“Hey,” Mom said, turning to face me. “Life isn’t perfect, Bella. But it’s how we handle the imperfections that matter. And you? You handled today beautifully.”

I leaned my head on her shoulder, feeling like a little girl again. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetie,” she whispered, kissing the top of my head.

A smiling senior woman in a shimmery golden dress | Source: Midjourney

A smiling senior woman in a shimmery golden dress | Source: Midjourney

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment before she spoke again. “Now, enough moping. It’s your wedding day! Let’s go dance.”

Back inside, the party was in full swing. Fabian swept me onto the dance floor, pulling me close.

“Everything okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling up at him. “Better than okay. I was just thinking about how lucky I am.”

A bride smiling | Source: Unsplash

A bride smiling | Source: Unsplash

His brow furrowed. “Lucky? After everything that happened today?”

“Absolutely,” I said firmly. “Because at the end of it all, I’m married to you. And that’s all that matters.”

Fabian’s face softened, his eyes shining with love. “I promise, Bella, I’ll always protect you and stand by your side. No matter what.”

I reached up, touching his cheek. “I know. And that’s why I love you.”

Grayscale shot of a bride and groom embracing each other | Source: Unsplash

Grayscale shot of a bride and groom embracing each other | Source: Unsplash

As we swayed to the music, I caught sight of Mom and Dad dancing nearby. Mom winked at me, and I felt a rush of gratitude. Despite everything, we were all here, together.

The evening ended with laughter, dancing, and a sense of relief that the worst was behind us.

As Fabian and I said our goodbyes, heading off to start our new life together, a thrill ran through me. Whatever challenges lay ahead, we’d face them together, surrounded by the love of our family and friends.

A newlywed couple dancing | Source: Unsplash

A newlywed couple dancing | Source: Unsplash

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.

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