Mark and I always shared everything—passwords, calendars, even our silly inside jokes. So when he suddenly got a new phone and refused to share it, I felt the ground shift beneath me. He snatched it from the kids, took calls outside, and locked it in the car trunk every night. “It’s for work,” he said. But my gut screamed otherwise.
At 2 a.m., I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed his keys, tiptoed outside, and found the phone under a blanket. I tried his birthday, our anniversary, our son’s birthday—it unlocked. Relief surged, then dread. What I saw wasn’t cheating. It was worse.
Just then, footsteps. Mark stood there, flashlight in hand, eyes glassy. “I didn’t want you to find out I…”
Ten years married. I wanted this anniversary to be unforgettable. I filled my basket with George’s favorite gourmet treats—cheeses, craft beers, things he never splurged on. The shop buzzed with weekend energy. I was smiling, imagining his reaction.
Then I heard his voice. George. In the same store. He’d just texted saying he was stuck in traffic. I peeked around a shopper. There he was—with my mom. Laughing. Her hand on his arm.
My stomach dropped. Why lie? Why her?
I ducked, heart pounding. Another text: “Really stuck here, babe. Might take even longer. Love you.” I typed back, pretending I believed him. Then I followed them.
They walked like a couple, laughing, absorbed. I trailed them to my mom’s house, parked down the street, and waited. Betrayal burned in my chest. My mom. My husband. Together. I wiped my tears and walked to the door.
It opened before I knocked.
Inside: twinkling lights, flowers, candles, a table set for two. “Happy 10th Anniversary!” banners hung across the walls. George smiled nervously. My mom beamed.
“Surprise!” they said.
I was speechless.
“But… the text?” I stammered.
George stepped forward. “I saw you at the store. I knew you’d follow me. I wanted this to be perfect.”
“We’ve been planning this for months!” Mom added.
Relief flooded me. The secrecy, the lies—it was all for love. George hugged me. “I love you, Jess. I wanted to celebrate us.”
We laughed, cried, danced. The tension melted. “I thought I lost you today,” I whispered.
“You’ll never lose me,” he said.
