When my husband told me he had a work party to go to, I never suspected anything untoward until I received a call that made me stop in my tracks! What I heard on the other line had me grabbing my car keys to confront him and packing his things the next day!
You’d think after ten years of marriage, I’d know my husband, Brian, inside out. But last week, I learned that even a decade together can’t shield you from betrayal—or the satisfaction of watching karma deliver a perfect punch!
A serious-looking woman | Source: Midjourney
It started innocently enough. On a Thursday evening, Brian walked through the door humming a tune, a rare spring in his step. “Big news!” he announced. “The company’s throwing a work party tomorrow night, a team bonding thing. Strictly employees.”
He kissed my forehead and dropped his briefcase on the floor.
“It’s going to be boring, so don’t worry about coming. Just numbers talk and small talk.”
I raised an eyebrow.
A suspicious woman | Source: Midjourney
Brian wasn’t exactly the party type. His idea of fun was watching golf on TV, but I shrugged it off.
“Fine by me,” I said, my mind already spinning through tomorrow’s tasks.
The next morning, Brian was sweeter than usual. Too sweet, if I’m honest. While I cooked breakfast, he came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and murmured, “You know you’re amazing, right?”
“What’s all this?” I asked with a laugh. “Trying to earn brownie points?”
“Maybe.” He handed me his favorite white shirt, the one with the annoying button that always came loose.
A happy man holding a shirt | Source: Midjourney
“Can you iron this for me? And, oh, while I’m gone, could you make lasagna? The one with the extra cheese? You know how much I love it.”
“Anything else, Your Highness?” I teased.
“Actually, yes.” He winked while looking smug. “Could you clean and tidy up the bathrooms? You know I like the place spotless. And it wouldn’t hurt to get them spick and span just in case… guests, you know?”
I rolled my eyes but laughed along. My husband had his quirks, and for all his little diva requests, I thought he was harmless. If only I’d known…
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
That day, I threw myself into my chores. The vacuum buzzed, the washing machine churned, and the smell of baking lasagna filled the house. My cleaning playlist kept me company, and for a while, life felt… normal.
I was so deep into my work that I didn’t even notice the day had gone by until my phone rang.
The number was unfamiliar, and for a split second, I toyed with ignoring it, not wanting to be disturbed. But I picked it up anyway. “Hello?”
At first, all I could hear was music, noise, and muffled laughter. I frowned, thinking it might be a prank. But then I heard Brian’s voice. Clear as day…
A woman frowning while on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“My wife?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “She’s probably cooking and scrubbing toilets or something. She’s so predictable! Meanwhile, I’m here with you, my love.”
I then heard a woman giggling, and my stomach sank.
I froze, the phone pressed to my ear as my world tilted on its axis. Then, the line went dead. A second later, a text came through with a single address. No words, just a location. The address wasn’t familiar, but something deep inside me knew. This wasn’t a work party. This wasn’t harmless.
An upset woman staring at her phone | Source: Midjourney
My pulse pounded as I stared at the screen. I had a moment of questioning things like was this real? Could Brian, my Brian, really be this cruel?
I didn’t cry. Not yet. Instead, I threw on a coat, furiously grabbed my keys, and drove straight to the address without thinking twice. The lasagna, which I switched off, could wait. If Brian thought I’d stay home like a clueless fool, he had another thing coming!
I knew that this could all be a prank or something else innocent, but I couldn’t risk not knowing if my husband was really cheating on me. So I had to go see for myself. The GPS led me to a sleek Airbnb on the other side of town.
An angry woman driving | Source: Midjourney
The place screamed “luxury,” with its grand entrance, sparkling windows, and pristine landscaping. A collection of fancy cars was parked in the driveway, and inside, I could see a crowd of people laughing and drinking.
My stomach churned as I scanned the faces. Either Brian was about to get the surprise of his life, or maybe I was. We’d see in a minute. As I walked to the door, a doorman blocked my path, asking, “Can I help you, ma’am?”
A suspicious doorman | Source: Midjourney
Fake smiling, I replied, “Hi, yes, I just came to drop something off for my husband quickly,” I said, gesturing to the toilet brush and cleaner in the bucket I held. Confused, the doorman stared at me and then my bucket.
“Look, he’s the tall guy in the white T-shirt,” I explained.
The doorman didn’t seem convinced but figured I wasn’t harmful, so he stepped aside to let me in. Everyone turned around and stared at me, looking all disheveled from cleaning and cooking, with a bucket in hand.
And then I saw him…
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
My husband stood in the middle of the room, his arm casually draped around a young woman in a tight red dress. He looked more alive than I’d seen him in years, laughing and sipping champagne like he didn’t have a care in the world!
Every part of me wanted to rush over to him and let loose, but another part whispered, “Be smart. Don’t just react. Make it count.” Brian spotted me almost instantly. His face drained of color, and he took a step back, nearly spilling his drink!
A shocked man embracing a woman | Source: Midjourney
“Emily?” he stammered, pulling away from the woman at his side. “What… what are you doing here?”
“Hi, sweetheart,” I said, my voice loud enough for the room to hear. “You left something at home.”
Brian blinked, confused. I reached into the bucket and pulled out rubber gloves, a toilet brush, and a bottle of toilet cleaner I’d brought with me.
“Since you like talking about my cleaning skills, I figured you might need these to clean up this mess you’ve made of our marriage.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The woman in red took a step away from Brian, looking mortified. But I wasn’t done.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“You know,” I said, turning to the room, “Brian loves to play the doting husband at home. But as you can see, he’s more interested in playing house with whoever strokes his ego.”
“Emily,” Brian said, his voice low and desperate. “Can we go outside and talk?”
“Oh no,” I said sharply. “You didn’t care about privacy when you were mocking me behind my back. Why start now?”
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
I turned to the crowd, addressing them like an audience at a theater.
“Enjoy the party, everyone. Just remember: if he cheats with you, he’ll cheat on you!”
And with that, I dropped the bucket near his feet and walked out, my heels clicking against the marble floor. But as I reached my car, my phone buzzed again. The same unknown number.
A woman looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney
“You deserve to know the truth,” the message read. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”
My hands trembled as I called the number. I realized I never bothered to find out who had given me the tip and why. Was it a woman Brian cheated with who now felt spiteful? Or perhaps someone who wanted him for themselves?
Heck! For all I knew, it could’ve been the woman Brian was with, trying to put a spanner in the works so she could get him for herself.
The phone didn’t ring long before a woman answered. “Hello?”
A woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
“Who is this?” I demanded.
“My name’s Valerie,” she said after a pause. “I… used to work with Brian.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because someone had to,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “I’ve been watching him lie and cheat for months. Bragging about you, laughing about how ‘easy’ it is to fool you. It made me sick.”
I swallowed hard. “How did you even get my number?”
A woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
“I left the company a month ago for greener pastures after working to secure the venue for the office party,” she admitted. “But before I quit, I saw what kind of man he is. I found your number in the emergency contact database. I know it was wrong, but you needed to know. My husband, Ted, was the same way. I left him two years ago and vowed never to stand by and see the same thing happen to another woman.”
Her words hit me like a freight train.
A shocked woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
“I got another female colleague to attend the party and shadow Brian, at the opportune moment, she called you and let you hear him berate you before giving me back my phone. I’ve been hiding outside the venue in my car, waiting for you to arrive and confront him once and for all. You deserved the truth, Emily.”
I should’ve been angry—should’ve felt violated—but all I felt was gratitude.
“Thank you,” I whispered before hanging up. I was ready to go home and lick my wounds and felt it pointless to meet Valerie. She’d played her part, and now it was time for me to play mine.
An angry woman in her car | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I woke up with a clarity I hadn’t felt in years! Brian’s belongings were packed and waiting outside the door. When he came home last night, his key wouldn’t fit the lock because I put a keyhole cover we had in the house.
I don’t know and don’t care where he slept last night. His phone buzzed with a single text from me that morning: “Enjoy.”
A shocked man after looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney
And for the first time in a long time, I smiled. Not because of revenge, but because I finally took back control of my life. Divorce was the next thing on my to-do list that day, and I couldn’t wait to take him for all he’s worth!
A happy woman sitting at home | Source: Midjourney
If that story was up your alley, then you might like the next one about a wife who suspected her husband of cheating when he suddenly insisted on sleeping in the car. One night, she followed him and discovered something more disturbing than just cheating…
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.
My Boyfriend Demanded That I Give Him My Card to Pay Our Restaurant Bill
When Lisa earns her much-deserved promotion, she wants to go out and celebrate with her boyfriend, Troy. At the restaurant, Lisa learns that Troy just wants to put on a façade and be the ‘man’—disrespecting her and her hard-earned role. But when he gives his number to a waitress, things take a turn, causing Lisa to embarrass Troy and walk out of their relationship.
It was meant to be a night of pure celebration. After six months at my new job, I had finally earned a significant promotion and was eager to share the joy with Troy, my boyfriend.
He suggested the new upscale restaurant in town, famous for its ambiance and gourmet menu.
“Let’s just get dressed and go out, Lisa,” he said. “We don’t do this very often, so let’s make the most of it.”
I had to agree; we rarely did this—we rarely decided to go out and indulge in anything.
“Fine,” I agreed. “A night out is exactly what we need.”
And I believed that we needed it. Mainly because, as much as I wanted to believe that Troy and I were supposed to last forever, I had begun to see some cracks in our relationship. Something just felt different.
I was happy in my job, but Troy wasn’t happy in his.
“I do so much, but nobody bothers to recognize me,” he said grimly one evening when he came over for salsa night.
Troy sat on the couch and dug his chips into the salsa and guacamole, complaining about work the entire evening.
It was because of his moods regarding work that I didn’t tell him anything good about my job.
“Maybe you just need to give it more time,” I said, handing him a frozen margarita. “You just started there a few months ago.”
“Lisa, please,” he said. “You wouldn’t understand. Let me be.”
But when I had gotten news of this new promotion, there was no way that I was going to keep it to myself. I wanted to celebrate and be celebrated, and I hoped that Troy would want to do just that.
To my surprise, he seemed really excited about it, and he told me that he was proud of me.
“Really, babe,” he said when he came over to my apartment to pick me up. “This is a big deal, and I’m proud of you.”
The evening started beautifully. Troy showed up with a bouquet of flowers, and he sat down and waited while I got ready. Usually, he wasn’t pleased if I was still getting ready when he arrived, but this evening was different.
“Come on,” I said. “I’m ready!”
Troy put his phone away and stood up, leading the way out of my apartment to where his car was waiting for us.
We drove in silence, but for once, the silence wasn’t tense—it was peaceful, and I felt that maybe Troy was changing. That he was becoming someone who wanted to be here and be present with me.
The soft lighting and the stunning view of the city skyline from our table set a romantic backdrop for our evening. We toasted to my success, with Troy raising his glass of champagne high.
“To the most amazing woman I know,” Troy cheered, clinking his glass against mine. “And to many more successes to come.”
“To us and to the future!” I echoed, suddenly caught up in the moment.
We went through the menu and ordered our meals while Troy spoke about the shared dreams that we had—from the Bali holiday that we had been speaking about for a long time, to wanting to move in together soon.
“I just think it’s time,” Troy said. “And now that you have your promotion, it will be much easier for us.”
Everything went along well, until the waitress brought our food over. Troy kept glancing at her, hoping to catch her eye—he winked at her twice.
I didn’t want to make a scene about it—Troy did this whenever he had something to drink. He behaved as though being a flirt was second nature.
But then, as we neared the end of our meal, I noticed a change in Troy. His usual easy smile tightened when the check was brought to our table. He smiled at the waitress as she stepped aside.
“You should let me pay with your card,” he said, a strain of insistence in his voice.
I was surprised. On the one hand, I didn’t mind paying for the dinner because it was my promotion and I was making a lot more money than I had before. But at the same time, I had also hoped that Troy would want to spoil me for the night.
“Why can’t you use your own card?” I asked, surprised by the frown on his face.
Troy’s irritation was barely concealed.
“Clearly because you’re the one who got promoted, and I don’t have enough money for these fancy dinners, Lisa! You know that, and yet you act like you don’t.”
I was confused by his logic.
“I’ll just pay with my card,” I said, putting my handbag on the table. “It’s not a big deal.”
My boyfriend’s face hardened as he took a sip of his whiskey—he had switched from champagne halfway through the meal.
“It’s embarrassing, Lisa,” he said. “It’s like you’re actually trying to humiliate me by not letting me be the man who pays.”
I didn’t know how to react to Troy’s words. It didn’t make sense to me. And I couldn’t understand what the waitress had to do with who was paying for our meal.
I would have retaliated and stood up for myself, but I could feel my energy being drained by Troy.
I felt cornered. And because I wanted to avoid making a scene, I reluctantly handed over my card.
Troy smirked and picked up my card, signaling for the waitress with an exaggerated flourish, presenting my card as if he were performing a grand gesture.
“I’ll be right back with the card machine,” the waitress said.
Feeling uneasy, I excused myself to the restroom. I just needed a moment to be myself. Troy did this all the time. But I thought that the evening was going well and that he was changing.
Of course, I was wrong.
Before thinking it through, I pulled my phone out and logged onto my banking app. With a few swipes and clicks, I had blocked my card.
Let’s see him pay now, I thought to myself.
On my way back, I paused near the bar, my attention caught by Troy’s laughter from across the room.
He was flirting openly with the waitress, scribbling something onto a napkin—presumably his phone number.
He handed it to her with a wink. I was stunned. I was hurt. A rush of indignation surged through me.
I returned to the table as the waitress spoke.
“I’m sorry, but there seems to be a problem,” she said. “Your card was declined.”
Troy’s confident façade crumbled as he stammered, turning away.
“What?” he asked. “Surely that can’t be right.”
Feigning concern, I suggested that Troy call the bank.
He sat back in his chair and pulled out his phone, dialing the bank and putting the call on speaker.
The representative asked for the card number, which Troy read off my card, followed by a request for the account password.
Finally, Troy hesitated. He was at a loss.
“Okay, Sir,” the person said through the phone. “If you can verify the last three transactions, it would help.”
The waitress hopped from one foot to the other.
“I can answer that,” I said. “A lavender-scented candle, some skincare products, and a new book. And Sir, the name on the card is Lisa Simmons.”
The waitress’s expression cleared with understanding, and Troy was left floundering for a response.
I then pulled out another card and paid the bill myself.
“Lucky I have two cards,” I told Troy and the waitress. “But babe, since you enjoyed the service, I think you can get the tip.”
Troy, red-faced, scrambled through his wallet, pulling out only expired coupons and a few small bills.
I stood up, waiting for Troy to say something—anything, but he sat there tight-lipped.
“Hey, I didn’t take his number,” the waitress said, a smirk playing on her lips. “I just threw the napkin away.”
“I’ll find my own way home,” I told Troy as I walked out into the night.
As I walked outside, I didn’t know if I had made a mistake. But at the end of the day, no relationship should make a person second guess themselves or make them feel like celebrating themselves is wrong.
Which is something that Troy did all the time.
I think I’m finally done with him.
What would you do?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one |
When Kyra discovers, by accident, that her boyfriend, Henry, has been cheating on her, she goes completely numb. Until he sends her an invoice for everything that he had ever spent on her. Fueled by her anger, Kyra fights back, exposing Henry for who he is and asking for her monetary rewards in return.
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