After 14 Years of Marriage, I Found My Husband’s Second Phone—Then a Message Popped Up, ‘Can’t Wait to See You Again Tonight’

Until she discovers a hidden phone with a message that rocks her world, Helena never doubts her husband’s loyalty after fourteen years of marriage. She demands the truth as mistrust turns to heartache. However, Chad’s revelation is something she didn’t anticipate.

Something so insignificant was the first step. I hadn’t been prying into things. All I was doing was our washing.

A bag for the gym. A tremor. An additional phone.

Then a message appeared.

I can’t wait to see you again this evening. I cherish you!

The world continued on around me. It ought to have. My breath did. Bile rose in my throat as I raised the phone, my hands shaking.

Chad didn’t usually use this phone. He read texts aloud while driving, the one I’d held a hundred times. The one for which I had the passcode. While waiting at the doctor’s office, our children had been playing games on it.

I could feel the change right away, as my stomach began to empty and something cold and oppressive pricked my skin.

An additional phone. concealed.

A message. close.

I gazed at it, hoping for a sense of relief or a rational explanation to dawn on me.

However, none arrived.

I took a trembling breath, but it didn’t stay in my chest. I felt as though I was breathing in shattered glass because my chest was too constricted.

Chad didn’t tell lies. He wasn’t unfaithful.

Was he?

I had never before had any cause to question him. In fourteen years of marriage, not once. Not after 16 years of trust, love, and establishing a life together. But all of a sudden, my mind was like a crime scene, looking for hints that I had never considered looking at before.

Were there any indications?

At the station, late at night. He checked the texts around me but didn’t respond. I never questioned the new aftershave. The way he had resisted my attempts to kiss him on certain mornings.

A fresh light caused the recollections to change and become unsightly.

God, please.

Let’s say this wasn’t novel.

What if I had been the sole idiot who failed to notice the fractures in a meticulously crafted illusion?

I shuddered violently at the thought. I tried to calm the nausea that threatened to rise by pressing a hand against my stomach.

I ought to unlock the phone. Now. However, my hands remained immobile.

Because everything would alter the moment I did, the moment I learned more.

No more “maybe” would exist. Don’t wait for an excuse to put your trust in him. I’d be aware.

I wasn’t sure I was prepared for the response, though.

My heart beat frantically and erratically against my ribs. I forced myself to regulate my breathing and clamped my eyes tight.

I told myself, Helena, you’re not weak.

I wasn’t the type of woman who would deny reality. I wasn’t the type to let fear dictate my choices.

I sat down at the kitchen table, took a big breath, and flipped the phone over in my hands. It felt more heavy than it ought to have.

It was secured. It was, of course.

There was almost a sense of relief in me. My finger slipped, highlighting the message once more before I could put the phone down.

I’m excited to see you this evening. I cherish you!

I dropped it like if it were burning.

Once more, the bile rose, acidic and harsh. This was not a miscommunication.

I grounded myself by digging my fingers into my thighs.

Consider. Make a plan. Helena, don’t act foolishly.

I had to wait. I needed to hear Chad’s opinion.

What if he did lie, though? If he attempted to deceive me into thinking this was unimportant?

Then, Helena, you destroy all of your relationships. After picking up the children, you go. Never turn around.

I almost fell out of my skin as the front door opened.

Chad’s pleasant, informal voice echoed. The voice belonged to a man who was open and honest with his wife.

“Helena? “Honey, are you home?” he called.

I took a deep breath, making my feet move. I stepped into the hallway, my hands shaking as I tightened my hold on the phone.

Chad swiveled and placed his keys in the ceramic bowl our daughter Isla had created at school. We had constructed our lives together with a thousand small routines, and this was only one of them.

Between us, I set the phone on the table. I had a shaking hand.

“Unlock it,” was all I said.

Chad became still all over.

His face lost its color so quickly that it nearly made me sick. His eyes darted from the phone to my face as he gulped, his neck bobbling. His eyes blazed with hurt but not guilt. Something more substantial.

My gut twisted at something.

He was aware.

It felt like a bullet to the chest to receive that confirmation.

“It’s not what you think, Helena,” he replied.

“Unlock it now, and I’ll get to decide that,” I said.

At his side, his fingers twitched. He clenched his jaw.

And something inside of me was broken by that little pause.

Because Chad needed to consider it. He needed to make a choice.

He exhaled slowly and touched the screen with his thumb.

It became unlocked. With my eyes swimming, I grabbed the phone out of his hands and began to scroll.

He started to say, “Helena,” but I interrupted him before he could finish.

The words “No, be quiet,” I said.

They weren’t lengthy communications.

The cake was my favorite, so thank you for that.

The flowers were lovely. You treat me too sweetly.

I can’t wait to see you again this evening. I cherish you!

This time, my stomach tightened even more tightly.

“Who is she, Chad?” I insisted.

With a deep exhale, Chad ran his hands through his hair. His face was unreadable. But underneath it, underneath the anxiety and the fatigue. Guilt was absent.

“She’s my mother, Helena,” he declared.

And everything in my world shook.

No. The excuse wasn’t that. He wasn’t supposed to tell that falsehood.

I spit out, “The hell she is,”

Helena. Please. Simply pay attention. His eyes begged me to listen to him and speak to me like an adult and not a child for once.

I remained silent. I simply waited.

“The phone isn’t some secret burner phone, to start. At a fire scene last week, my regular one fell out of my turnout gear. The screen broke. I still haven’t done moving anything, so I had to acquire another one. The old one still has the children’s photos on it. I intended to resolve the matter this weekend.

I stumbled. Only a little. Okay, so that clarified the phone.

“And the messages?” I inquired. “Who is she?”

The simple statement, “You know I grew up in foster care,” was his.

I was blown away by the change in subject.

“You know I never knew my parents,” he added in a raspy voice. “I told you that.”

Yes, I did. During his early years, we had discussed how he had moved from house to house and how he had only vague memories of his mother.

“She gave me up when I was four,” he stated. “I hardly recognized her. Flashes only. The wind carrying the smell of her perfume. Her laugh. However, she discovered me three months ago. I was discovered by my mother.

I held onto the table’s edge.

“How did she find you?” I inquired. “I require additional details. I must comprehend this, Chad.

A smile twisted his lips.

“That silly article,” he murmured. “The piece about firefighters. He snorted a sour chuckle at the story of me being the “cat whisperer” and saving the cat from the tree because everyone contacts me to save the animals.

It had been a cute article. It was framed for our research.

“She saw my picture, Helena,” he added. “Saw my last name and that bit about my foster care background and knew it had to be me.”

“And then?” I inquired that.

He rubbed his jaw and remarked, “She showed up at the station,” She claimed to have searched for me for years. She had never stopped. She said that abandoning me was the worst thing she had ever done, but at the time, she was by herself. She didn’t have the money to care for her child, much less herself. She therefore believed that I would have a better chance in foster care.

He hesitated.

“She said that she hated herself for it.”

My throat hurt.

I muttered, “You should have told me,”.

His own words, “I wanted to,” However, I was afraid. I wasn’t sure whether she was genuine or someone I could rely on. Bringing her into our lives only to have her leave again was not something I wanted to do.

He gave a headshake. “Helena,” he uttered softly. “I couldn’t let her meet the kids until I was sure.”

My chest began to feel heavier.

“What about the flowers? “The cake?” My speech sounded shaky.

He let out a breath.

“Helena, she’s in a nursing home. It’s not a very big location. There is no one for her. She enjoys candy. She also smiles when she sees flowers. I’m not sure, my love. All I wanted to do was help her. In honor of the years she has missed.

The atmosphere between us changed. I had been picturing the worst of him for the past fifteen minutes. Someone who would tell lies to me. Betray me. Destroy the life we have created.

However, this?

It was Chad. My spouse. To save strangers, he would dash into burning buildings. Angry, the man who had never allowed me to sleep. The man who loved me so profoundly that, before bringing his own anguish to our door, he had kept it hidden.

My hand dropped the phone to the table. Chad remained still. He was keeping a close eye on me, awaiting my decision.

My fingers closed around his, sturdy and warm, as I grabbed for his hand.

Saying, “Take me to meet her,”

He tightened his hold on my hand.

“You mean it? “Really, Helena?” he inquired.

I gave a nod. Whispering, “She’s your mother, Chad,” I said. “And I’d like to know her if she’s significant to you. I want her to be known to our children.

We exchanged a raw, unsaid emotion. Chad let out a deep breath, his whole body letting out a sigh of relaxation. And I gave in when he drew me into his embrace.

Because the best man I had ever known was still my husband, whom I had loved for sixteen years.

Nor was our story unraveling. It was only getting started.

While traveling to the nursing home, we left the children with a babysitter. Chad has remained silent ever since we discussed everything. His dinner was hardly touched.

The scent of antiseptic and something somewhat sweet, like vanilla lotion, permeated the air. The corridor was long and silent, with the beep of equipment behind partially open doors mingling with the murmur of distant chatter.

With his hands clenched at his sides and stiff shoulders, Chad walked in front of me. He was more nervous than I had ever seen him. Not in this manner. Not even on the day of our wedding.

He paused as we got to the door. Something flickered across his face, dread. Then he exhaled slowly and pushed it open. Blending his worlds together at last.

Miranda sat by the window, her face’s deep wrinkles softened by the outside light.

Her figure appeared little in comparison to the large cardigan draped over her shoulders, and she was slimmer than I had anticipated. Her exquisite features were framed by wisps of silver hair, and I spotted it instantly.

Chad’s eyes, his jaw, and the downward curvature of his lips when he was thinking deeply.

The sound of the door caused her to turn. Her breath caught the instant her eyes met Chad’s. Her weak hands gripped the arms of her chair as though to keep herself together as tears immediately welled up in her eyes.

“You came,” she said to Chad in a whisper.

Even after clearing his throat, my husband’s voice sounded shaky.

“I promised to. Is something unique taking place? Tonight is busy,” he said.

Miranda chuckled.

She said, “It’s Bingo night,” Additionally, people occasionally extend invitations to their families. I told you to come tonight for that reason.

My throat constricted as I took a step forward.

Softly, “I’m Helena,” I said. “Chad’s wife.”

She broke in some way.

Her shoulder trembled and a shaky palm covered her mouth as she let out a series of quiet cries. She had missed more than just Chad. All of this she had missed. She had missed Christmas mornings, marriages, birthdays, knee scrapes, and bedtime stories—not just with Chad, but also with our kids.

A lifetime had passed her by. I walked across the room and grasped her hand.

“Tell me everything,” I said without a word.

The years that she believed she had lost were suddenly restored.