The Day I Discovered My Husband’s Double Life
I sat on the edge of our bed, watching Jake sleep. His breathing was slow, peaceful—like he didn’t have a care in the world. No debts, no bills, no worries. Just dreams. His dreams.
I nudged him gently. “Jake. Wake up. Today’s the day—I’m taking the money to the bank.”
He groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, baby. You’re up early again.”
I forced a smile. “Well, someone has to be.”
I moved to the kitchen to make his coffee, just like I did every morning. Five minutes later, he shuffled in, yawning, and took the mug from my hands.
“Martha,” he said, his voice thick with sleep, “you know I love you, right? You’re my rock. My everything.”
I nodded, but my stomach twisted. How many times had he said those exact words?
“Tell me again,” I pressed. “What’s the plan?”
Jake’s eyes lit up. He set the mug down and spread his arms wide, like he was already standing in the middle of his dream farm.
“Our own land, Martha! Fresh milk, organic produce—no chemicals, no middlemen. People will come from all over to buy from us. Our name on every jar. And that’s just the beginning!”
I swallowed hard. “And Benny? When do we finally send him to a good school?”
“Soon, baby. It’s all coming together. You sold the lake house—that was the first step.”
The lake house. The last thing I had left of my parents. But I’d given it up—for him. For us.
I glanced at the envelope on the shelf, stuffed with the last of my savings.
“I’ll deposit it all today,” I said quietly.
Jake reached across the table, brushing his fingers against my cheek. “I adore you, you know that? No one’s ever done for me what you have.”
“Because we’re family, Jake. You promised—this farm is our dream.”
“Of course it is.”
He kissed my forehead, soft and sweet. But as I packed my bag to leave, something in my chest tightened.
Am I giving too much?
The Phone Call That Changed Everything
The bus stop was freezing. I clutched my coat tighter, shivering as I waited. Just twenty minutes to the bank, and then—
Bzzz.
My phone vibrated in my purse. I pulled it out, frowning at the screen.
ALEX.
I didn’t know any Alex.
I answered.
“Hey, baby…” A woman’s voice—smooth, syrupy, like melted sugar. “You’re not answering. Did she leave already? I’ve been waiting for you all night…”
My blood turned to ice.
I hung up without a word.
Then I looked at the phone again—the cracked screen, the worn-out case.
This isn’t mine.
I dug through my purse, my hands shaking. Of course. Jake and I had switched phones that morning.
This was his phone.
And that call? That was Alex.
The Trap
I didn’t go to the bank.
Instead, I slipped back into the house, placed Jake’s phone exactly where he’d left it, and waited.
Sure enough, he came rushing in minutes later.
“Hey! Have you seen my phone?”
“On the table,” I said, forcing a smile.
He grinned, snatching it up. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Not today, Jake.
I watched him tap out a quick message before heading for the door.
“I’ll be late tonight—meetings. Don’t wait up!”
Meetings. Right.
I followed him.
The Other Woman
The cab stopped outside a cute little house with green shutters. Through the window, I saw her—Alex. Blonde, young, wearing one of Jake’s old sweaters.
He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her like he hadn’t just kissed me goodbye.
My hands clenched into fists.
Okay, Jake. Let’s play.
I waited until he left, then marched up to the door and knocked.
Alex opened it, blinking in surprise. “Yes? Can I help you?”
I took a deep breath. “I think you can. I’m Jake’s wife.”
Her face went pale.
The Truth Comes Out
Inside, Alex paced, her hands shaking. “He told me you were impossible. Controlling. That he had to leave you.”
I laughed bitterly. “And yet, he’s still living in my house, spending my money.”
She stopped, eyes wide. “What money?”
“The money I was about to deposit today. The money from selling my parents’ house. The money for his farm.”
Alex sank onto the couch, her voice barely a whisper. “He told me he needed it for a divorce lawyer.”
We stared at each other—two women, one liar.
Then I smiled.
“Let’s make him pay.”
The Final Game
Three days later, Jake sat in a restaurant, grinning at Alex like she was his golden ticket.
“I need you to trust me, baby. This is all for us.”
Alex tapped her glass—our signal.
I stood, ripped off my disguise, and dropped into the seat beside him.
“Hi, honey. Big business meeting?”
Jake’s face went white. “Martha?! What the—”
Alex smirked. “Surprise, Jake. Your wife and your girlfriend had a little chat.”
He tried to laugh it off. “You’re both idiots. Martha already wired me the money. She still trusts me.”
I leaned in. “Actually, Jake? I didn’t send you a dime.”
His smile vanished.
Alex stood, tossing her napkin on the table. “We’re getting pizza. Real food—no lies.”
I threw a single dollar in front of him. “Enjoy dinner, sweetheart.”
As we walked away, laughing, Jake sat there—stunned, speechless, caught.
Outside, Alex grinned. “So. Pizza?”
“Extra cheese,” I said. “And lots of wine.”
Two women, one lesson: Never underestimate a betrayed wife.
