Angelica’s seemingly perfect marriage unraveled at her high school reunion after an old friend revealed a shocking secret about her husband, Tom. Devastated, Angelica must now confront him and decide how to move forward with her life.
My name is Angelica, and I still remember the first time I met Tom in high school. From the start, everyone knew we were meant to be together. We both came from affluent families, living a life of comfort and privilege.
A happy couple | Source: Pexels
“We’re like a fairy tale,” Tom often said, smiling at me.
After college, we married and built a beautiful home together. We were blessed with two wonderful children, Emma and Jack. Our life was filled with family vacations, elegant dinners, and social gatherings.
“Our house feels like a dream,” I often told Tom. “I love our life.”
A luxury house | Source: Pexels
“Me too, Angelica,” Tom would reply. “We’re so lucky.”
Weekends were spent playing with the kids in our backyard, hosting BBQs for friends and family, and enjoying quiet evenings together. One Saturday, as we grilled burgers, Emma and Jack ran around playing tag. Tom looked at me and said, “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”
“Neither would I,” I agreed, feeling content.
Grilling meat | Source: Pexels
To the outside world, we were the perfect couple. We rarely argued, always supported each other’s ambitions, and seemed to have everything one could wish for in a marriage.
Our friends often told us how lucky we were. They envied our love story, which seemed right out of a romantic movie. I often heard comments like, “You guys are the perfect couple,” and “I hope my marriage is as strong as yours.”
Then, one day, we received an invitation to our high school reunion. It had been ten years since we last saw our classmates, and we couldn’t wait to catch up with old friends.
An invitation | Source: Pexels
“Can you believe it’s been ten years?” Tom asked, looking at the invitation.
“It feels like yesterday,” I replied, excitement bubbling up. “It will be fun to see everyone again.”
We spent the next few weeks talking about the reunion, reminiscing about our high school days, and wondering what everyone else had been up to.
“Do you think Sarah will be there?” I asked Tom one evening.
“I hope so,” he said. “It would be great to see her again.”
A couple talking | Source: Pexels
The night of the reunion finally arrived. We walked into the venue, excitement buzzing in the air. The room was decorated with old photos and school colors. Laughter and chatter filled the space as we greeted old friends.
“Angelica! Tom!” someone called out. We turned to see Sarah, an old classmate from a humble background who had been close to us during our school years.
“Sarah! It’s so good to see you,” I said, hugging her tightly.
“I’ve missed you both,” Sarah replied, smiling warmly.
A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
As we caught up, Sarah showed us pictures of her children. “These are my pride and joy,” she said, her eyes shining with pride.
“They’re beautiful,” I said, smiling. “How old are they now?”
“Emily is eight, and Joshua is ten,” Sarah replied, beaming. “They keep me busy, that’s for sure.”
Tom looked at the photos and said, “You must be so proud, Sarah.”
Siblings playing | Source: Pexels
“I am,” she said, her voice filled with love. “They mean the world to me.”
As I looked closer at the photos, my heart skipped a beat. There, on the neck of Sarah’s eldest child, Joshua, was a distinct birthmark identical to the one my husband has. A wave of nausea washed over me. I blinked, hoping I was imagining things, but the birthmark remained. It was unmistakable.
Tom stepped away to catch up with his old buddies, leaving me alone with Sarah. My mind raced with thoughts. I tried to keep my composure, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
A serious shocked woman | Source: Pexels
“Sarah,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she replied, her eyes widening.
“That birthmark… on Joshua’s neck. It’s just like Tom’s. It’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it?” I said, trying to sound casual, but my heart was pounding in my chest.
Sarah looked at me, eyes filled with sorrow and regret. “Angelica, I can’t lie anymore. Back in high school, Tom and I… we had an affair. It was brief, and we both regretted it. But then I found out I was pregnant.”
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “Pregnant?” I whispered, barely able to form the words.
Sarah nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “Yes. When I told Tom, he was shocked. He didn’t know what to do, so he told his parents. They all decided it was best to keep it a secret. They offered me a large sum of money and agreed to provide informal child support until Joshua turned 18, in exchange for my silence. They didn’t want to lose you as a daughter-in-law, coming from such a noble and wealthy family.”
A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels
I stared at her, trying to process what I was hearing. “So… Joshua is Tom’s son?” My voice trembled, and I felt a lump in my throat.
“Yes,” Sarah replied, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Angelica. I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought this was the best way to handle it at the time. But living with this secret has been eating me up inside.”
I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to comprehend the betrayal. Without another word, I stood up and walked away, my heart shattered.
A close-up shot of a crying woman | Source: Pexels
The shock and devastation hit me like a tidal wave. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Betrayal, anger, sadness, and confusion all swirled together. I started to cry, unable to contain the overwhelming pain. I knew I couldn’t stay at the reunion any longer. I needed to get away, to process everything that had just been revealed.
I hurried out of the venue and drove home in a daze. When I arrived, I didn’t say anything to Tom. I just started packing. Tom followed me into the bedroom, his face etched with concern.
A worried man | Source: Pexels
“Angelica, what’s wrong? Why are you packing?” he asked, his voice trembling.
I glared at him, the weight of the secret suffocating me. “Don’t you dare act clueless, Tom,” I snapped, tears welling up in my eyes. “I know everything.”
His face went pale. “What are you talking about?”
“You lied to me for years,” I shouted, my voice breaking. “Sarah told me everything.”
Tom’s eyes widened in panic. “Angelica, please, let me explain—”
A couple arguing | Source: Pexels
“No,” I cut him off, my voice firm. “I’m done listening to your lies.”
I gathered the children’s things and loaded them into the car. Emma and Jack looked at me with confused eyes, but I couldn’t find the words to explain. I just needed to get away, to find solace somewhere.
“Mommy, where are we going?” Emma asked, her voice small.
“We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
A woman driving at night | Source: Midjourney
Together with the children, I drove to my parents’ house in another city. The journey felt like a blur, my mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and heartbreak. When we arrived, my parents welcomed us with open arms, sensing that something was terribly wrong. I broke down and told them everything. They were shocked and devastated for me, but they offered unwavering support.
“We’re here for you, Angelica,” my mother said, holding me close. “Whatever you need, we’ll help you through this.”
A welcoming elderly lady | Source: Pexels
Over the next few days, I began to come to terms with the betrayal. The pain was still raw, but I knew I had to be strong for Emma and Jack. I started preparing for the divorce process. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I knew it was the right one. Tom’s betrayal had shattered the trust in our marriage, and there was no way to rebuild it.
My parents were my rock during this time. They helped me care for the children and offered emotional support. Their love and understanding gave me the strength I needed to move forward.
A happy elderly couple | Source: Pexels
As I prepared for the divorce, I felt a sense of resolve. This wasn’t the end for me; it was a new beginning. I was determined to move forward for the sake of my children and myself.
I found a lawyer and started the necessary paperwork. Each step in the process was painful, but it also felt like a step toward healing. I knew I had a long road ahead, but I was ready to face it.
Divorce papers | Source: Pexels
With the support of my family, I began to see a future beyond the betrayal. A future where I could find happiness and stability for myself and my children. I was preparing for a new chapter in my life, determined to move forward with resilience and hope.
This wasn’t the end of my story, but the beginning of a new one. One where I would emerge stronger, wiser, and ready to embrace whatever the future held.
A hopeful woman | Source: Pexels
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 Husband Created a New Schedule for Me to ‘Become a Better Wife’ — I Taught Him a Good Lesson in Response
I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
A man on an armchair | Source: Pexels
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
A man looking to the side | Source: Pexels
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
A serious woman | Source: Pexels
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
A man | Source: Pexels
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
A woman glancing down | Source: Pexels
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
A happy man | Source: Pexels
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
A woman working at a table | Source: Pexels
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
A woman typing on a laptop | Source: Pexels
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
A woman laughing | Source: Pexels
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
A woman laughing hard | Source: Pexels
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
A woman smiling at her laptop | Source: Pexels
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
A grinning woman | Source: Pexels
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
A kitchen island | Source: Pexels
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
A dumbfounded man | Source: Pexels
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
“You thought what? That I could ‘improve’ myself like some project?” My voice was calm, but the hurt behind it was real. “Jake, marriage isn’t about lists or routines. It’s about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, you’ll be paying a hell of a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
A serious woman | Source: Pexels
Silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Jake’s face softened, his shoulders slumping as he let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound sensible, but now I see it’s… it’s toxic. Oh God, I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded, watching him carefully. “Yes, you have. Honestly, have you looked at Steve’s life? What makes you think he has the life experience to give you advice about marriage? Or anything else?”
The look on his face as my words hit home was priceless.
A couple having a heated discussion | Source: Midjourney
“You’re right. And he could never afford to live like this.” He slapped the list with the back of his hand. “He… he has no idea about the costs involved, or how demeaning this is. Oh, Lisa, I got carried away again, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but we’ll recover. Now, let’s tear that paper up and go back to being equals.”
He smiled weakly, the tension breaking just a little. “Yeah… let’s do that.”
We ripped up the list together, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were back on the same team.
Torn paper | Source: Pexels
Maybe this was what we needed, a reminder that marriage isn’t about one person being “better” than the other. It’s about being better together.
Here’s another story: Nora thought her marriage to Vincent was solid, but a routine kitchen cabinet check while he was away revealed a devastating secret. A seemingly ordinary jar held a truth so shocking that it led her to file for divorce on the spot.
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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