“A Business Trip” with a Whiff of Betrayal: A Note That Changed Everything
Edward returned home exhausted after a gruelling day at work. Tossing his briefcase by the door, he walked into the kitchen, where his wife, Claire, was frying sausages.
“I’ve been sent on a business trip tomorrow,” he said flatly. “Pack my bag.”
Claire turned, her brow furrowing with suspicion.
“No one else could go? Bit odd—a trip over the weekend…”
Edward didn’t respond. He merely shrugged and went to change.
The next day, he left. Two days later, he returned. The flat was silent. No Claire, no son. Evening—usually they’d be home by now.
“Odd,” Edward thought, hanging up his coat.
He pulled out his phone and dialled Claire’s number. No answer. He was about to call again when he spotted a sheet of paper on the kitchen table. A note. The handwriting was neat, calm, but with each word, panic tightened his chest.
*Ed. Don’t look for us. I’m tired of the half-truths, the lies, the distance. Tom’s come with me to Mum’s. We need time. Don’t call. If you love us—give us space.*
He read it again and again. His heart sank. He slumped onto a chair, staring blankly. Fragments of the past weeks flooded his mind…
The new department head had arrived unexpectedly. Replacing Peter, the old and well-respected manager, was a cold, self-assured woman—Janine Whittaker. Rumour had it she’d been appointed through connections, but no one dared say it aloud.
At the first meeting, Janine made it clear she wasn’t to be trifled with. Discipline, accountability, no slack. Edward was slightly late—and immediately met her icy glare.
“Take notes on what I say,” her voice cut like a blade. “I won’t tolerate lateness again.”
Three weeks passed. Everyone struggled to keep up. Edward managed, did his best. And apparently, it didn’t go unnoticed. One day, he was called into her office.
“You work efficiently. Why haven’t you moved up yet?” Janine asked, twirling a pen between her fingers.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“There’s an important trade show in London this Friday. You’ll attend. Assess the equipment, make notes. And perhaps…” she paused, “we’ll discuss a promotion.”
His stomach twisted. He’d promised his son a trip to the park that weekend. Tom was expecting it. And Claire… she’d read too much into it.
But he went.
As luck would have it, Janine was seated next to him on the train. Dressed casually yet elegantly, she looked almost approachable.
“Relax. I don’t bite,” she smiled. “This trip will do you good.”
They chatted the whole way. At the hotel, their rooms were… side by side. Edward wondered if it was coincidence.
Then—a knock at his door. He opened it to Janine, holding champagne in one hand, chocolates in the other.
“May I?” she murmured.
It happened quickly. The champagne, the easy conversation, the lingering glances… her hand on his shoulder… A kiss he didn’t resist.
Returning home, Edward sensed something amiss. Claire was distant. Silent.
Then… she found a lipstick stain on his shirt.
“What’s this?” Her voice was quiet, terrifyingly calm. “I knew it wasn’t just a business trip.”
Shouting. Tears. Silence. That night, he slept on the sofa.
The next day—the note on the table.
He stood, gripping the paper with trembling fingers. Tears pricked his eyes before he noticed. He hadn’t meant to. Never planned it. But it had happened.
Back at work, routine resumed. Janine acted as always—strict, detached. When she suggested another trip, he answered firmly:
“No. I won’t go. Promised my son—won’t let him down again. Someone else can handle it.”
Janine raised an eyebrow.
“You realise what this means for your prospects?”
“I do. But I’ve already ruined enough.”
He walked out without looking back.
That weekend, he took Tom to the park. Bought him ice cream. Rode the carousel. Watched him laugh. For the first time in months, there was peace inside him.
The promotion went to someone else. And though Claire didn’t return straight away, a month later, they began talking. Slowly. Like adults.
And Edward never again confused career with what truly mattered—family.
