I was working a night shift, completely drained, but feeling a strange sense of gratitude. The hum of the car engine and the quiet streets made me feel alone in my thoughts. That is, until I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw my husband, Jason, sitting in the backseat… with another woman.
I didn’t speak a word. I didn’t need to. Inside, I was already planning his downfall.
I had once believed I was the lucky one to have Jason.
He came into my life when everything was going well for me. I had a good job at a big company, a cozy two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, and my little boy, Jamie, who was five at the time.
And Jason… well, he came into my life when he was homeless.
I remember telling my friend, “It’s fine, we’ll manage,” when Jason moved in with us.
“You barely know him!” she whispered in my ear, worried.
“He accepted Jamie like his own,” I responded confidently. “That’s already more than I ever expected.”
I thought he was special. I helped him get a job through my connections, and within a year, he had a new wardrobe, a new car, and a proposal to match.
“You can quit your job, Abby,” he said one night, his eyes serious. “Focus on Jamie. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll provide for us.”
And I believed him.
At first, life was good. But as soon as I stopped working, everything shifted. Suddenly, Jamie became “a problem.” He was “too sensitive” and “not the way a real boy should be.” I started to hear things like that from Jason more and more.
The money? It never came. It was always “on the card,” “not processed yet,” or “just hang in there.”
So, I did what I had to do. I took up night shifts as a taxi driver while Jason was “away on business.”
One night, I came home late, hoping to get some rest. But there was Martha, our neighbor, waiting for me at the door, wearing her pink robe.
“So, how was work, sweetheart?” she asked gently, brushing Jamie’s hair as he slept, clutching her dog like a pillow.
“Better than nothing,” I said, sighing. “And you? How did it go?”
“Oh, with him? Like my own kid,” she smiled fondly. “Just give me a child, and my day has a purpose. Jamie’s my little treasure.”
“You’re our guardian angel, Martha. I couldn’t do this without you.”
She nodded, a concerned look crossing her face. “And Jason… does he even know how hard this is for you?”
“He knows,” I lied, forcing a smile. “He’s just busy with work.”
But the truth was, he was busy with something else entirely. Something that would make me question every decision I’d made.
It was a regular shift. A typical late-night call from a downtown restaurant. A man in a gray coat and a woman with bright red lipstick climbed into my cab.
I looked in the rearview mirror and my heart stopped. It was Jason. And he was with her. His mistress.
They slid into the backseat, acting all cozy, like a couple on a honeymoon. I pulled my hood over my forehead, trying to hide my face. I didn’t say a word.
“Finally,” the woman murmured, her voice full of relief. “I thought you were going to come up with another ‘my son has a fever’ excuse.”
“Not tonight,” Jason replied, his voice low and intimate. “I missed you.”
They kissed, and my stomach twisted.
“So, my parents want to meet you,” she said, her voice soft with excitement.
Jason seemed confused. “What do you mean?”
“They want to meet you,” she repeated, “and if they like you, they’ll give me a house. But they’ll only do it if they think I’m with someone serious. A fiancé.”
Jason chuckled, low and amused. “So, we’re putting on a show now?”
“They’re conservative,” she said, “and we won’t tell them about your wife. You’re divorcing her soon, anyway, right?”
Jason kissed her cheek, his voice smooth. “You’re my favorite. I love how clever you are.”
Her voice turned even softer, almost sultry. “I was thinking… two houses. One to live in, and one to rent. It could be perfect.”
Jason laughed, low and satisfied. “Exactly. As soon as my wife gets the inheritance, I’m out. No reason to leave empty-handed. Her mother’s really sick, so it’ll happen soon.”
I gripped the wheel so tightly, my knuckles turned white.
“All right,” she said brightly, “I’ll organize a get-together this weekend. A backyard barbecue. Just show up, smile, say a few sweet words — and we’re in.”
“Saturday?” Jason asked, his voice excited. “Perfect. I’ll think of something at home.”
Saturday. Our anniversary.
I realized, with a sickening wave, that Jason had planned to meet her parents for a fake engagement on the exact day we’d met, nine years ago. And he didn’t even remember.
I drove them to a small house with a porch. It wasn’t ours. I had never seen it before. Jason got out of the car without a glance at me, paid in cash, and didn’t even look up.
“Thanks, buddy,” he said, already reaching for Ashley’s waist as they walked inside.
I stayed in the car, watching them disappear behind the door. Then I sat there in silence, breathing deeply. And when I finally spoke, I whispered, “I’m sorry, Jason. But you just lost this game.”
On Tuesday, just days before our anniversary, I set the table. I made his favorite stew and lit a candle. When Jason came into the kitchen, I acted like everything was perfectly normal.
“Jason,” I said sweetly, ladling stew into his bowl. “Do you remember what Saturday is?”
He paused, looking like he was trying to figure out what I meant.
“Anniversary… oh! Right, the day we met,” he said, finally remembering.
I smiled. “Exactly. Nine years ago, I gave you that watch you still wear.”
“Mmh, yeah… of course…” he muttered, clearly distracted.
I set the spoon down. “I thought we could have a nice evening. That old place by the lake. I made a reservation for eight.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Uh… Listen, Saturday’s tough. I have to travel. Big business meeting, far out.”
Then, as if trying to salvage the moment, he added, “But, you know, we’re not the kind of couple who needs dates to prove anything, right?”
I nodded, my heart heavy with the truth I had learned. But I said nothing. Inside, the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.
That Saturday, I didn’t take Jamie to Martha’s.
“Sweetheart, we’re going to a party,” I told him, buttoning up his favorite shirt with the green dinosaur.
He smiled wide. “Will there be cake?”
“Even better,” I winked. “Ice cream.”
I put on a blue dress — the same one I wore on our first date — and spent a few extra minutes getting ready. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a woman I hadn’t seen in years. The one I thought I’d lost.
We got in the car.
“Where are we going, Mommy?” Jamie asked, his face full of curiosity.
“To meet some interesting people, darling. But don’t call anyone a liar out loud, okay?”
Ashley’s house was bigger than I imagined. The backyard was buzzing with people, music playing, someone grilling something delicious.
I rang the doorbell.
Ashley opened the door with a bright smile, but when she saw me, her expression faltered. Her eyes scanned my face, unsure. She then glanced down at Jamie, and her smile fell completely.
“Um… can I help you?” she asked, her voice forced.
“I was invited,” I said sweetly, “by your parents. We’re… family-adjacent, you could say.”
She blinked, then stepped aside reluctantly. “I’ll go get them.”
She called out, “Mom? Dad? Your guest is here!”
The music outside continued to play, but inside the foyer, it was silent. Two well-dressed people entered, looking confused.
“Good afternoon,” I smiled brightly. “Sorry to drop by unannounced. I just thought it was time I met the man dating your daughter… or, as I know him, my husband.”
Jason, who had been chatting with someone, walked in just then. When he saw me, his face drained of color. His smile vanished in an instant.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I said, locking eyes with him. “Happy anniversary. I brought you a gift.”
Jamie peeked from behind my legs. “Hi, Daddy! Mommy said there’d be ice cream!”
Ashley’s gasp echoed in the room. She stumbled back like she’d been slapped. Her father’s jaw dropped, and her mother’s hand flew to her chest in shock.
“Excuse me?!” Ashley’s mom snapped. “What did that child just say?!”
“Jamie,” I said gently, “why don’t you head out back and get all the ice cream you want? Today’s a yes-day.”
Jamie, oblivious to the tension, dashed toward the dessert table. I turned to Jason. Then, in one swift motion, I took off my wedding ring and walked up to him.
Slap.
I didn’t hit him. I simply dropped the ring into his stunned hand. The sound was louder than thunder.
“I stood by you when you were broke, jobless, and couch-surfing,” I said, my voice rising. “I gave you a home. I gave you my trust. I gave you a son.”
“You have a son?” Ashley barked, her eyes wide. “You said she didn’t have kids!”
Jason opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“What in God’s name is this, Jason?” Ashley’s father muttered, his voice low and furious.
“Wait… they’re married?!” Ashley’s mom cried out.
“Still am,” I said firmly. “But not for long.”
Ashley’s face burned bright red.
“I heard them,” I said, my voice cutting through the chaos. “He’s waiting for my mother to die so he can get the apartment. Then he planned to marry your daughter — and live in one house, rent the other.”
Gasps filled the room, loud and sharp.
Ashley’s mother collapsed into a nearby chair, shocked. Her father growled something under his breath.
Ashley stood frozen, eyes wide.
“Oh my God… you brought a child into this…” she started to say.
“You think I brought the child?” I snapped. “No, Ashley. Jason brought us both into this. And you invited me into your home the moment you decided to steal what wasn’t yours.”
I turned to her parents, my voice calm but firm. “I heard you’re gifting your daughter a house. Just be careful. Jason likes gifts. And when he gets them… he usually goes after the deed too.”
I turned to leave, walking toward the door.
“Come on, Jamie,” I said. “These people have enough on their plate. Let’s go find some real ice cream.”
From behind me, I heard shouting, crashing sounds, and the sound of glass shattering.
But I didn’t flinch. And for once, I didn’t look back.
Three months later, during the divorce hearing, Ashley’s parents showed up. They testified. They spoke out about the lies, about the house.
Shame does strange things to people. But in their case, it turned into decency.
With their help, and some evidence I gathered from my side gig as a driver, I got everything. The court left Jason with nothing but excuses.
I brought my mother to live with us. We sold her old apartment and bought a small house by the coast — quiet, sunny, peaceful.
Turns out, new beginnings are like clear glass: sharp, honest, and beautiful. And I’d take that life over anything Jason ever promised me.
Because peace, I learned, is the real luxury.
