Scarlett’s weekend escape turned into a nightmare when her husband’s jealously got out of hand and she ended up stranded thirty miles from home. She had no idea that karma would provide an unexpected turn of events that would reverse the situation and give her a sense of fairness again. I’m Scarlett. Hi. I recently got back from what was meant to be a fantastic weekend getaway with my husband, Sheldon. Our marriage had lasted for a decade. I get along well with you most of the time.
But tensions do arise occasionally. Things took a bad turn this past weekend. After spending two days in a quaint little town, we were on our way back. The sun was bright and we had been to several beautiful locations. We had pleasure in boat rides, lovely parks, and cozy cafés. It seemed like the ideal diversion from our hectic life. Sheldon was content, and I was relieved to see him unwind once. Everything was great till the very last day. We went to a little eatery for lunch. Sheldon thought our waiter was a little too chatty. He was certainly pleasant enough. He began teasing the waiter about how attentive he was. I dismissed it with a laugh, but Sheldon became upset. What piqued his interest in you so much? We walked to the car and Sheldon inquired. Trying to keep the conversation light, I answered, “I think he was just doing his job.” Sheldon remained silent as we climbed into the vehicle. At first, the drive home was calm. I tried to savor the remaining moments of our journey as I gazed out the window. However, I could sense Sheldon’s resentment building up next to me. They were on the road for almost an hour when Sheldon finally spoke. He spoke in a frigid tone. “I observed your gaze on him.” With a sigh, I had a knot in my gut. “Sheldon, I wasn’t giving him any particular attention.” He tightened his hold on the steering wheel. “If I hadn’t been here, I doubt you would have refrained from flirting!” That remark hurt. I looked up at him. “You can’t really say that? I’d never be unfaithful to you! He snapped back, “Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it.” My heart was racing. “You’re acting absurdly.
He was just going about his work as a waiter. The dispute swiftly became more heated. In minutes, we went from a tight stillness to yelling. Sheldon’s words wounded more than they had before. Even though his envy was unjustified, he wouldn’t let it go.”You have no idea how it feels,” Sheldon said, raising his voice. “Observing you grin at a different man.” “This is unbelievable,” I murmured while shaking my head. Sheldon, you have my affection. You can’t trust me, why? My heart leaped as he abruptly stopped the automobile. “Leave,” he uttered with clenched teeth. Startled, I questioned, “What?” “Go outside and stroll back home!” he said again, his eyes flaming.
His serious expression conveyed that he wasn’t kidding, even though I couldn’t believe he was serious. With tears hurting my eyes, I opened the door. I slammed the door behind me and muttered, “Fine.” I watched from the side of the road as Sheldon drove off, leaving me by myself. I started to move, a mixture of anguish and rage in me. I was baffled as to how our idyllic weekend had devolved into this nightmare. I had problems with Sheldon, but nothing like this I had ever anticipated.I took to the roadside and began to stroll. The air was growing chilly as the sun descended. Not only was I cold, but I was also shocked by what had transpired. I held out my thumb in the hopes that someone would see me and offer to help. Vehicles zoomed by, their drivers giving me curious or disinterested looks. My thoughts raced, repeatedly playing out the disagreement that I had with Sheldon. He had no idea that I would ever be unfaithful to him. Although his jealousy had never been good, this instance it had taken a toll. After what seemed like an endless amount of time, a car eventually slowed down and stopped over. The man behind the wheel, a kindly-looking middle-aged man, rolled down the window. Need a lift, he enquired. With a wave of relief, I said, “Yes, please.” “Many thanks for that.” Feeling relieved to be off my feet and out of the cold, I got into the car. The chauffeur beamed at me. “My name is Tom,” he introduced himself. “Where are you going?”Home,” I answered. “This is around thirty miles away.” Tom nodded and got behind the wheel. “You know, it was a rough day?” I sighed and added, “You have no idea.” “After a heated argument, my spouse abandoned me by the side of the road.” Tom gave me a pitying glance.
“I regret learning that. Would you like to discuss it? I told Tom about the weekend, the waiter, and the out-of-control dispute as we drove. Speaking with someone and getting everything off my chest felt fantastic. Tom carefully listened, occasionally nodding. When I was done, he responded, “Sounds like your husband has some serious trust issues.” Yes, I replied. “I just don’t get why he doesn’t think I’m trustworthy.” For a while, we drove in quiet as I glanced out the window, thinking back on all that had transpired.
Sheldon was the love of my life, but his jealousy was breaking us. If he didn’t think I was trustworthy, how could we go forward? Abruptly, I noticed a recognizable vehicle off to the side of the road. A beat skipped in my heart. Behind the car, which belonged to Sheldon, were flashing police lights. “Tom, that’s my husband’s car,” I said. Could you please stop? Tom gave a nod, reduced his speed, and parked behind the squad car. Stepping out, I made my way over to Sheldon, who was chatting with a policeman. When he saw me, he appeared taken aback and slightly ashamed. “What’s happening?” I walked up and asked. The policeman turned to face me. “Ma’am, is this your husband?” Yes, I answered. “What took place?” The officer said, “He was pulled over for speeding and reckless driving.” “We may have to suspend his license and tow his car because this is his third offense.” Sheldon turned to face me, a mixture of desperation and rage. “Please, Scarlett, could you assist me?” I inhaled deeply, attempting to control my feelings. “Officer, may I take the car home?” I asked. My license is still in effect. The officer gave me a long look before nodding. “All right. We won’t need to tow it if you drive. He is still receiving a ticket, though. Taking the keys from Sheldon, I felt vindicated and empowered.
I was the one saving him now that this was his disaster. Upon taking the wheel, I couldn’t help but experience a wave of fulfillment. Sheldon sat dejectedly on the side of the road. He murmured, “Thank you,” as I turned on the ignition. I remained silent. Rather, I concentrated on the path ahead, experiencing a sense of both relief and accomplishment. Now I was in charge. Sheldon had to realize there were repercussions for what he did. I had a strange sense of finality as I drove away, leaving Sheldon to deal with the police. While it wasn’t the solution to our issues, this was a start in the right direction for me to regain my power and independence. I would be there for Sheldon as he faced his own problems, but only if he could learn to trust me. I was happy to drive home for the time being, knowing that karma had truly had the last laugh.
I Found Out My Husband Rents a House on the Outskirts – My Heart Nearly Stopped When I Visited
My marriage felt like a dream until I discovered my husband was renting a secret house on the outskirts. What I found when I visited unveiled a heart-stopping truth, exposing the dark reality of the man I thought I knew.
For years, I thought my husband Stan and I were living a fairy tale. He was my soulmate, not just a partner I shared the same roof or bed with, and I happily put his wishes first, even delaying having children. Then, one day, a forgotten phone revealed the painful truth: my husband wasn’t who I thought he was.
A young romantic couple under a transparent umbrella on a rainy day | Source: Unsplash
Stan and I met during a press conference in Tokyo seven years ago. We’ve been together ever since, married for five of those golden years. He seemed perfect in every sense of the word.
“Mindy, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had,” Stan once said, collapsing onto our plush sofa after a long day at work. “But seeing your face makes it all better.”
I smiled, settling next to him. “Tell me about it. I want to hear everything.”
Those were the days when we couldn’t get enough of each other.
A couple sitting beside each other in a room | Source: Unsplash
Stan loved me and showered me with precious gifts, but after some time, I got bored of his expensive gifts. I wanted him, his time, and not those materialistic sparkly diamonds or opulent pearls.
“Another necklace?” I once asked, trying to mask my disappointment as I opened the velvet box.
Stan beamed, oblivious to my tone. “Only the best for you, darling.”
I forced a smile, wishing he’d understand that his presence was worth more than any jewelry.
A man putting a pearl necklace around a woman’s neck | Source: Pexels
Stan worked in an office in an amazing position and made good money. But the thing is, he started spending more time at work while I stayed at home, dusting, cooking, and cleaning.
Stan barely had time for me, and I missed those days when we used to Netflix binge, bake together, or even grab some good sleep. Stan started coming home late, and I’d be mostly asleep.
His focus shifted entirely to work, and as his career climbed new heights, our connection dwindled.
A man working on a laptop in his office | Source: Pexels
So while I was already dealing with the heartbreak of Stan not spending time with me, on a fateful morning, right after my husband left for work, I noticed he’d forgotten his phone on the table in a hurry.
I thought he would come back for it, but he didn’t.
I went about my day, doing laundry and refilling the vases with fresh garden flowers when his phone buzzed suddenly. Curiosity overcame me, and I impulsively grabbed it to check the message.
A smartphone on a table | Source: Pexels
Stan had locked his phone, but he didn’t know I had once seen his pattern lock and knew it by heart, though I never snooped into his phone or privacy before.
But something compelled me to check the message after seeing it written in all caps with the words “final reminder.”
So I unlocked Stan’s phone and saw the message: “STAN! THIS IS YOUR FINAL REMINDER TO PAY THE RENT FOR THE HOUSE, OR I’LL HAVE TO RENT IT TO SOMEONE ELSE! TOMORROW IS THE DEADLINE!”
Close-up of a woman with a smartphone | Source: Pexels
My hands shook as I read it again. Stan was renting a house? Without telling me? I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.
Just then, he called my phone. “Hey, honey. I left my phone at home. I’ll be home late tonight… important client meeting.”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “Fine!”
As I hung up, I couldn’t help but wonder what Stan was hiding from me.
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
The rest of the day was a blur as I obsessively checked the clock. At precisely five o’clock, I hailed a cab, directing the driver to Stan’s office, which I knew closed around half-past five or six.
I didn’t take my car because mine was a yellow Mini Cooper, and I didn’t want to risk Stan finding out I was following him.
“I need to be there a bit early,” I told myself, my heart pounding. “I have to find out what he’s up to.”
A cab on the street | Source: Unsplash
At 6 p.m. sharp, I saw Stan leaving his office and get in his car, driving to the outskirts of the city. Weird.
“Follow that car,” I instructed the driver, feeling like I was in some kind of spy movie.
After what felt like an eternity on wheels, Stan parked outside a small, rundown house and went inside the building.
A house nestled among flower bushes and trees | Source: Unsplash
I asked the cabbie to wait, and gathering my courage, I went after Stan ten minutes later. My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob.
“Here goes nothing,” I whispered to myself.
I slowly opened the door and nearly lost my breath when I saw Stan sitting on a chair near an easel of painting. What was going on?
I barged inside, and Stan’s face turned pale as though he’d seen a ghost.
“M-Mindy?” he stammered. “What are you doing here?”
Rear view of a man painting on a canvas | Source: Pexels
I ignored his question, my eyes darting around the room filled with canvases and paint tubes. “What on earth are you doing here, Stan? Why did you rent this house?”
Stan didn’t understand how I’d found out until I told him about seeing the message on his phone. He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping.
“This house is my escape from the daily grind. It’s where I come to refresh and refocus.”
I felt a surge of relief and confusion. “But why didn’t you tell me?”
Grayscale portrait of a shocked woman | Source: Pexels
Shame flushing his face, he averted his gaze. “I was embarrassed about my hobby, given my high-profile job. I feared your teasing.”
I moved closer, my anger softening. “Stan, I’d never laugh at something that makes you happy. But why all the secrecy?”
Although I wanted to believe him, my instincts told me he was still hiding something from me. And I was right.
Just two minutes later, someone knocked on the door.
A man sitting on the couch and covering his face | Source: Unsplash
Stan jumped up, panic flashing across his face. “Mindy, maybe you should go home now. I can explain everything later.”
But I was already moving towards the door. “No, I think I’ll get my answers now.”
“Mindy, wait—”
Stan tried stopping me, but I approached the door and opened it, only to stand back in shock.
Grayscale of a startled woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels
A young, beautiful brunette stood in the doorway, chewing bubblegum and eyeing me curiously.
“Who are you?” I asked.
She blew a bubble before answering, “I’m Luke’s girlfriend. He paints portraits of me. And who are you? What are you doing here?”
My world spun. “Luke? Girlfriend?” I sputtered. Then, finding my voice, I declared, “I’m his WIFE! And his name’s STAN! Not Luke!”
A young woman blowing gum bubble | Source: Pexels
The girl’s eyes widened in shock. Before I could process what was happening, Stan rushed past me, pushing the girl away and slamming the door shut.
He turned to me, his face ashen. “Mindy, I can explain—”
I yanked away as he tried to cup my face. “What’s going on, Stan? Who is she?”
My eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time that all the easels were draped with beige cloth. With trembling hands, I pulled the cloth off the nearest one.
A room full of painting easels covered in beige cloth | Source: Midjourney
My breath caught in my throat. It was a painting of a half-naked woman, the same woman who had just been at the door.
Tears began streaming down my face as I moved from easel to easel, uncovering more paintings.
“Mindy, please,” Stan begged. “It’s not what you think—”
But I was beyond listening. I dropped to my knees, pulling out more canvases from under the bed. They were all the same—portraits of scantily clad women in suggestive poses. And then I found the photos.
A teary-eyed woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels
“Oh God,” I choked out, staring at images of Stan… my Stan… in compromising positions with these women.
The truth hit me like a freight train. Stan was cheating on me.
“It was a mistake,” he kept saying, his words tumbling over each other. “Some kind of obsession I can’t overcome. Mindy, please—”
But I was already moving towards the door, my vision blurred by tears.
Grayscale of a man covering his face | Source: Pexels
“Mindy, wait!” Stan called after me. “Let me explain!”
I ignored his pleas, stumbling out into the night air. My whole body shook as I got into the cab, Stan’s cries still echoing in my ears.
Overwhelmed, I raced home and frantically packed before seeking refuge at my aunt’s place. The next morning, I called my lawyer and initiated divorce proceedings.
Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels
Two weeks have passed since that day. As I wait for the divorce proceedings to begin, I can’t stop shaking.
How could I have shared my life with someone like Stan? How could I have been so blind?
I reported him to the police, shattering his carefully curated public image. It felt like the only way to reclaim some power in this nightmare.
Two cops walking on the street | Source: Pexels
As I sit in my new apartment, staring at the walls, I can’t help but think about how quickly my “perfect” marriage crumbled. It was as fragile as glass, shattering into a million pieces at my feet.
I don’t know how long it will take to heal from these scars. The betrayal runs deep, inflicted by the very man I worshipped, trusted, and loved.
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