I Received a Call from an Unknown Number and Heard My Husband Say: “My Wife Is Cooking and Cleaning Bathrooms While I’m Here with You, My Love.”

I Received a Call from an Unknown Number and Heard My Husband Say: “My Wife Is Cooking and Cleaning Bathrooms While I’m Here with You, My Love.”
Robert Feige Avatar
Written by: Robert Feige
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When my spouse informed me he needed to attend a company gathering, I felt no suspicion whatsoever. Then a telephone call came that stopped me cold. The words I heard through the receiver prompted me to seize my car keys—prepared to challenge him and, the following day, remove his belongings. After a marriage spanning ten years, I believed I understood Brian completely. Yet last week, I discovered that even years together cannot shield you from disloyalty—or from the pleasure of seeing justice unfold at just the right moment.

It began quite ordinarily. On Thursday evening, Brian entered our home whistling, with unusual energy in his movements. "Excellent news!" he declared. "The firm is hosting an event tomorrow evening for team connection. Staff only." He planted a kiss on my brow and dropped his work bag onto the floor. "It will be dull, so don't feel obligated to join. Just corporate discussions and data analysis."

I lifted one eyebrow questioningly. Brian typically avoided social functions. His preferred entertainment was watching sports broadcasts. But I dismissed my concern. "That's acceptable," I replied, already contemplating my tasks for the upcoming day.

The next morning, his behavior seemed overly affectionate. Excessively so. As I prepared our meal, Brian approached from behind, encircled my waist with his arms, and whispered: "Do you realize how wonderful you are?"

I chuckled. "What's this about? Trying to earn favor?"

"Perhaps," he responded, offering me his cherished white button-up—the one with the irritating loose fastener. "Could you press this for me? Also, while I'm away, consider making my preferred lasagna? Additional cheese. Just how I prefer it."

"Any other requests, Your Majesty?" I joked.

"Actually, yes." He grinned. "Would you clean the washrooms too? You know I appreciate total cleanliness. And we might receive visitors unexpectedly..."

I sighed dramatically but smiled. Brian had his peculiarities, and despite his demanding requests, I thought nothing unusual about it. If only I had realized...

That day, I immersed myself in household duties. The cleaning equipment hummed, laundry circulated, and lasagna aroma permeated our residence. My cleaning soundtrack played softly, and briefly, existence seemed... ordinary.

Then my telephone rang. Unidentified caller. I nearly disregarded it, but something compelled me to answer.

"Hello?"

Initially, I heard only loud music and distant laughter. I frowned, suspecting a joke call. Then I recognized Brian's voice.

"My spouse?" he said, laughing. "She's likely cooking or cleaning bathrooms now. She's so foreseeable. Meanwhile, I'm here with you, darling."

A woman's laughter followed in the background. My insides clenched. I remained motionless, telephone still against my ear, as my reality shifted dramatically. Then the connection terminated.

Moments later, a message arrived—simply an address. No clarification. Just a location. I stared at my screen, heart racing. Perhaps I had misunderstood.

I didn't shed tears. Not immediately. Instead, I donned my jacket, grabbed my keys, and drove directly to the provided location. The pasta dish could remain unattended. Brian was about to encounter an unexpected visit.

The navigation system directed me to a deluxe vacation rental in another part of town. The residence was enormous, featuring sparkling windows and immaculately trimmed grass. The parking area contained numerous expensive vehicles. Through the transparent entrances, I observed individuals chatting, consuming beverages, and socializing merrily. My insides knotted when I recognized certain people. Either my husband would soon be astonished, or perhaps I would be. I was going to discover which.

As I approached the doorway, a security official blocked my path. "May I assist you, miss?"

I displayed an artificial grin. "Yes, I'm simply delivering something to my husband."

The guard observed me with suspicion—particularly when he noticed the sanitation container in my grasp. Inside it rested a toilet brush and disinfectant spray. "He's the tall individual wearing the white button-up," I explained, maintaining a steady voice.

The sentinel hesitated but, determining I posed no threat, moved aside. The instant I entered, everyone turned their attention toward me.

There stood Brian. In the center of the space, his arm encircling a woman wearing a snug crimson outfit. He appeared more animated than I had witnessed in ages, chuckling, drinking champagne, seemingly carefree. My chest tightened. Every fiber of my being wanted to rush at him, but an internal voice advised: "Act wisely. Make this meaningful."

Brian noticed me. His face paled instantly. He sputtered on his beverage and stumbled backward. "Emily?" he faltered, distancing himself from the female companion. "What... what brings you here?"

"Hello, darling," I announced, loudly enough for all attendees to hear. "You neglected something at home."

Brian stared, puzzled. I reached into the sanitation container and displayed the toilet brush and disinfectant for him to view. "Since you enjoy discussing my cleaning abilities, I thought you might require these to tidy the damage you've caused our marriage."

A unified exclamation moved through the assembly. The woman in red moved away from Brian, visibly distressed. But I continued.

"You know," I addressed the guests, "Brian portrays himself as the committed spouse at home. But clearly, he prefers playing house with anyone who flatters his self-importance."

"Emily, please," Brian pleaded, desperate. "Can we discuss this outside?"

"Now you desire privacy?" I retorted. "Where was that concern when you were ridiculing me when I wasn't present?"

I faced the crowd again. "Enjoy your celebration. And remember—infidelity is a recurring behavior."

With those words, I released the container at his feet and departed, my footwear striking loudly against the stone flooring.

As I arrived at my vehicle, my cellular device chimed once more. The identical unfamiliar caller. The text stated: "You should know the actual situation. I regret you discovered it this way." My fingers shook while I returned the call. A female voice responded. "Hello?"

"Who is speaking?" I questioned.

"I am Valerie," she replied after hesitating. "I previously shared an office with Brian."

"What motivates your actions?" I asked.

"Because someone needed to intervene," she exhaled audibly. "I observed his deception and unfaithfulness for several months. His behavior repulsed me. You warranted better treatment."

I struggled to compose myself. "I arranged for an associate to telephone you so you could hear the evidence personally. You required this information."

I shut my eyelids momentarily. I experienced no rage. I felt thankfulness.

The subsequent day, Brian discovered his luggage positioned beside the entrance. When he attempted to enter, he found the door security had already been replaced. I am unaware, and I remain indifferent, regarding his overnight accommodations. On his mobile device, a solitary communication from me: "Have fun."

And for the initial time in many seasons, I grinned. Not from vengeance. But because, at last, I regained control of my existence.

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