A Quick Trip to the Furniture Store Uncovered My Husband’s Secret Life
I Accidentally Caught My Husband with His Lover in a Furniture Store Choosing Items for Their ‘Cozy Love Nest’
I was surprised to learn a secret my spouse had been holding from me for months when I entered the furniture store. But I made him pay the worst manner I could after I had recovered from the shock!
My office chair abruptly shattered under me while I was at work. I was responding to emails one moment, and then I was lying flat on my back, gazing up at the ceiling tiles as everyone gasped! Yes, it was humiliating, but what followed was more devastating than any bruise and broke more than my pride!
As a senior at work, I was able to make choices for the company and had access to resources like pocket cash. My coworker Jenna offered to drive me to a bargain furniture store on the outskirts of town after I discussed it with my manager.
I reasoned that getting a new chair quickly would make things better and lift my spirits. We laughed at the absurd price tags as we passed rows of expensive dining tables, display sofas, and recliners when we arrived at the store!
I heard it at that point.
From one of the aisles came a voice.
Smooth, low, and a little amused. In the worst possible manner, familiar!
The speaker remarked, “I can’t wait until we finish this place,” “I can finally leave her after it’s finished. Finally, our comfortable haven for just the two of us will be prepared.
Behind a tall rack of brushed nickel lamps, I came to a complete halt. I felt sick to my stomach!
He went on, “She still thinks I’m sick,” in the same comforting voice I’d heard him use so many times when he said the chemotherapy had made his throat raw. “I informed her that the treatment was too taxing to be effective. I’ve been home because of this. She provides me with monthly funds for my “recovery.”
My knees gave way! For balance, I clung to the shelf and peered through the space between the lamp boxes.
Matt was there! My Matt! My six-year hubby! And a woman half my age with long honey-blonde hair and platform sandals stood beside him, clutching a swatch book and laughing like a prom girl over paint samples!
When she laughed, she threw back her head and leaned into him as if they were the main characters in a romantic movie.
The topic of conversation was “their cozy little family nest.”
I didn’t cry at all. When the truth exploded in my chest, my entire body became frigid! He was creating a new life and remodeling their house with her, while I was working overtime to pay for his alleged therapies, preparing meals, cleaning, and worrying!? On my own dime!
Because it was a shorter commute to the hospital, Matt said he was staying at his mother’s house. said that he could “rest” more effectively at his mother’s house because he was too weak to be there. Even his doctor was paid directly by me, but now I know that the “doctor” was really a prepaid burner phone that he used to send phony updates!
Those letters on elegant letterhead, too? forged. Later, I learned that he printed them on stationery from an old office job using templates he obtained on some internet handicap forums!
However, I didn’t shout at that very moment. Unlike in the movies, I didn’t hurl a lamp at him or charge at him. It would be too simple to humiliate him in public, so I refrained from confronting him.
I remained motionless. I turned and left after that.
I smiled and informed my coworker that I needed to go home because I wasn’t feeling good. She claimed she would inform our management and promised to bring me a nice chair.
After returning home, I began to consider my next course of action.
Matt made the unusual decision to return home that evening after his “illness.” Being the helpful and generous type, I had complied with all of his demands since I believed it would be best to avoid arguing with him while he was still in a vulnerable state. He thought I was a fool, but I felt I was doing him a favor.
I grinned. After giving him a cheek kiss, I remarked, “You look better today.”
He gave a nod. “Yes. The new medications are working.
He was clueless. I was already fully aware of everything.
When I told him the amusing tale of my workplace chair accident, I pretended to laugh. However, I didn’t ask him where he was or say that I had visited a furniture store.
Oh no! He found that tantrums were far too simple a punishment!
I began my retaliation!
I rummaged through his laptop that night while he slept. What’s the password? Nevertheless, Daisy123 is the name of our dog. I discovered receipts made out to a woman named Lexie and the floor drawings for a two-bedroom home close to Pine Ridge. In a spreadsheet called “Our Nest Budget,” my bank transfers were included under “health fund.”
I discovered the address that way.
I was surprised at how simple it was to get in. In case of an emergency, Matt always kept an extra key in his glovebox. Like our garage, I knew the code to his automobile.
I had waves of inspiration for the plan. It needed to be spotless. lyrical. Tragic.
I therefore created sophisticated housewarming invitations.
The front said:
During Matt’s recuperation, Rachel and Matt invite you to a surprise unveiling of their new house, a covert act of love. Join us in celebrating our miracle.
Then the most fascinating part started.
I sent them all by mail!
His supervisor. His colleagues. his friends from church. His mother referred to him as her “brave boy” because of how much he endured. I even invited the women from the church who served us lasagna while he was undergoing chemotherapy.
On the morning of the “party,” I drove to the house with a cart full of supplies after doing some reconnaissance. There was a cleaning staff just getting done. I tipped the lead guy $200 so that I could enter for a “early surprise setup.” He made no inquiries.
Since my husband stated that he would be spending the week with his mother—that is, his mistress—I knew he would be there.
Matt and Lexie’s framed, cute photos were all over the walls! On the beach, kissing! Painting a corridor! Lexie sporting Matt’s sweater in a carnival picture strip!
Nothing was taken down by me.
Rather, I displayed a banner that read “Welcome Home” over the front window.
I labeled each tray with small name cards and finger foods:
“Lexie’s Raspberry Bars,” “Matt’s Mini Quiches,” along with “From Matt and Lexie’s Loving Kitchen.”
Guests began to arrive at four o’clock in the afternoon.
First up was Harold, Matt’s employer, a tough guy who treated me like a magician. “We’re all so proud of him,” he reported. “To renovate a house while going through chemo, what a story!”
Next came our parents, church friends, and the neighbors. Matt’s Nashville cousin even drove in.
I greeted each one as I stood at the end of the walkway.
“So glad you could make it, Matt will be thrilled!”
The house was full at five o’clock. People were chatting about the beautiful pictures on the walls, eating canapés, and drinking wine. Since everyone believed Matt was dying, they were both excited and perplexed by the development.
The front door opened at precisely five fifteen.
With a paper grocery bag under one arm, Matt entered, followed by Lexie carrying a bag of soda water and lemons.
They came to a halt!
Like a live wire, the air broke!
Lexie let out a gasp!
The bag was dropped by Matt. The hardwood floor was covered with rolling oranges.
There was silence in the room.
With heels resonating on the tile, I took a step forward. I muttered, “Don’t worry,” as I moved in close to Matt’s ear. I kept it from them. Your walls did.
His shocked eyes were huge!
I then looked at the visitors. “Hello, everybody. Enjoy, please.
Whispers broke the stillness.
People began looking even more intently at the pictures when they saw Lexie. Tape love messages on the refrigerator. Lexie’s name appears next to Matt’s on a water bill.
Harold looked across at Matt.
“So this is where our sick leave money went?!”
Matt opened his mouth, but he was unable to speak.
His mother’s face went white as she fell onto a nearby chair!
With her heels clicking, Lexie took a hesitant step back and ran out the back door!
I spoke calmly to our surprised guests for twenty minutes. I told them what I knew about Lexie and the house. I then took a car home.
When Matt arrived at my driveway the following morning. The bags are packed. Face is hollow.
“Rachel,” he begged in a whisper. “Please. I apologize. She is no longer there. No one is with me. This wasn’t what I intended to happen—”
I gave him an envelope.
Divorce papers are within. demand for reimbursement for each cost incurred during his “treatment.” Even the lasagna that was catered!
I said, “You wanted a new home,” in a steady tone. “Now you can live in it, alone.”
There on our grass, he fell to his knees! I went around, entered, and secured the door.
I opened a fresh account two weeks later while sitting in my lawyer’s office.
I referred to it as the “New Beginnings Fund.”
Half of the money he returned was deposited by me. I took a vacation abroad with the remainder.
Ultimately, I treated his illness while he feigned his. I no longer loved a lie.
