“Oh, come on! Weve been married for ten years! What mistress? Youre more than enough for me!”
Melissa couldnt shake the feeling that her husband was cheating. She just *knew* it, deep in her bones. The uncertainty gnawed at her until she finally worked up the courage to confront him.
She asked him straight outwas he seeing someone else? But he just laughed it off.
“Oh, come on! Weve been married for ten years! What mistress? Youre more than enough for me!”
Jonathan sounded sincere, even looked her right in the eye when he said it. No flicker of guilt in his smile, no hesitation in his words. But still something felt *off*.
Mel wasnt the type to sit back and hope for the best, so she decided to get to the bottom of it. After scouring the internet for advice, she settled on checking his phone first. Nothing out of the ordinaryjust some harmless banter with a couple of old school friends. Big deal.
Hed never even put a passcode on it. “Nothing to hide,” he always said. No secret chats, no deleted messages. Practically a saint.
Sometimes she wondered if she was imagining things but then hed come home late from work again, and that *feeling* would creep back.
Her best mate, Sophie, always told her the same thing: “Youre overthinking it! Jonathan adores youhed never look at another woman! Youre just sabotaging your own marriage!”
But Mel wouldnt listen. Her gut told her otherwise, and she *refused* to share her husband.
One day, she even followed him to his office, just to see if he was really working or sneaking off somewhere else. He *flipped* when he saw her. “Embarrassing me in front of my colleagues?” hed hissed. Shed spent ages apologising, but he forgave quickly enough.
By all accounts, their life was perfect. A lovely home in Surrey, two kids, financial stability. But noMelissa had a knack for stirring up trouble where there wasnt any.
Like they sayseek and ye shall find. Only, so far, she hadnt found a thing.
No lipstick on his collar. No strange perfume. Not even a sudden change in routine. But she *knew* something wasnt right.
If it hadnt been for sheer luck, she might never have uncovered the truth. Real or imagined? Well, time would tell.
When their youngest started Year One, Mel decided to learn to drive. She took evening lessons after work, passed her test first go, and got her license. Jonathan was so proud he bought her a cara little Fiat, nothing fancy, but perfect for her small frame. Easier to park, too.
Not that hed admit it, but hed only bought it so she wouldnt ask to borrow *his* Audi. “You need more experience first,” hed said.
Then, one weekend, Mel woke up early and decided to surprise everyone with a roast chicken pietheir favourite. She got started, only to realise they were out of flour.
Freezing outside, snow everywhere, but shed gotten used to winter driving by now. Just a quick trip to Tesco. She went to start her carnothing. Dead battery. Back inside, the house was still quiet. She tiptoed around, not wanting to wake anyone.
Walking in the cold didnt appeal, so she made a reckless decision: shed take Jonathans car without asking. It was only a few mileshed never even notice.
She grabbed his keys and headed back out. While the car warmed up, she decided to wipe the windows. She reached into the glovebox for tissuesJonathan always kept some thereand her fingers brushed against something. A phone clattered onto the floor.
But whose?
Definitely not hisshe knew his phone inside out. This was a different one. Her first thought was that hed accidentally picked it up somewhere (he was always doing that, he claimed). But curiosity got the better of her. She pressed the button.
The first thing she saw was a message from someone named *Gemma*.
“*Miss you so much, my love! Come over soonIm waiting!*”
Mel blinked in shock. No passcode, so she scrolled through the messages. The car idled as she read.
The thread was *long*. Painfully long.
Turns out, Jonathan finished work at five every day but didnt come home till seven. Mel wouldve never thought to check his actual hours.
Turns out, he stopped by Gemmas *every single day* for an hour before coming home like nothing happened. And the things he wrote to herwords Mel had *never* heard from him.
Photos showed an older womanforty, easy. What on earth did he see in *her*?
Mels blood boiled.
She was about to storm back inside when she saw Jonathan stepping out of their front door.
Shed left a note saying shed gone to the shop. He mustve seized the moment to sneak another message to his precious Gemma.
*Now* it all made sensehim “forgetting his wallet” or “needing something from the car” almost every night. Quick trips, never long enough to raise suspicion.
Jonathan spotted her in his car and marched straight over.
“Who said you could take it? We never agreed to this!”
Mel looked at him, fury burning hotter.
She buckled up, shifted into reverse, and slammed the accelerator. The Audi screeched backwardstraight into the fence. A petty satisfaction washed over her.
She climbed out, staring at her stunned husband. “*Go to her, then! Lets see how much she wants you when youve got no house and no car! Go onget out of my sight!*”
For good measure, she hurled his car keys into the deepest snowdrift she could find and stormed back inside.
The boys were just waking up, too sleepy to understand the chaos. Minutes later, Jonathan tried to follow her inbut Mel slammed the door in his face and locked it.
“*Go to your girlfriend! Dont ever come back!*” she shouted loud enough for the whole street to hear.
Jonathan had no choice but to leave. In his slippers, dressing gown, and a hastily thrown-on jacket, he trudged to Gemmassure shed take him in, comfort him.
But no such luck.
Gemma opened the doorand a mans voice called from inside. “*Hurry up, babe! Ive been waiting!*”
Jonathan only visited Gemma on weekdays. Weekends? Never. Turns out, *she* had two men on the go. Why waste a weekend pining?
She gave him a sheepish look and shut the door in his face.
Defeated, he shuffled off to his mums housetwo streets over.
Margaret took one look at him and understood everything. She fed him, warmed him up, listened to his sob story about his “horrible wife” whod kicked him out over nothing, then patted his shoulder reassuringly.
“Dont worry, love. Who knew Melissa would turn out like this? Your luck will changeyoure only thirty-five! Youll find love again, mark my words.”
So Jonathan moved back in with his mum, ready to start fresh. He even felt a little relievedfree at last! Until Melissa filed for child support, and he realised starting over *wasnt* so easy. Thank God for his mum, thoughwithout her, hed have been *proper* stuck.
