The “Business Trip” with a Hint of Betrayal: A Note That Changed Everything
Oliver returned home exhausted after a grueling day at work. Tossing his briefcase by the door, he shuffled into the kitchen, where his wife, Eleanor, was frying pork chops.
“They’re sending me on a business trip tomorrow,” he said flatly. “Pack me a bag.”
Eleanor turned, frowning skeptically.
“No one else could go? Bit odd, isn’t it—a trip over the weekend?”
Oliver didn’t answer. He just shrugged and went to change.
The next day, he left. Two days later, he returned. The house was silent. No Eleanor, no son. Evening had settled; they were always home by this hour.
“Strange,” Oliver thought, hanging up his coat.
He pulled out his phone and dialed his wife. No answer. He was about to call again when he spotted a sheet of paper on the kitchen table. A note. The handwriting was steady, composed, yet with every word, panic coiled tighter in his chest.
*”Ollie. Don’t look for us. I’m tired of the half-truths, the distance, the lies. Liam’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 clenched. Sinking into a chair, he stared into nothingness. Fragments of the last few weeks flickered through his mind…
The new department head had arrived without warning. Where old, respected Arthur had once sat now perched a cool, self-assured woman—Victoria Chambers. The rumor was she’d been appointed through connections, though no one dared say it aloud.
At the first meeting, Victoria made it clear she wouldn’t tolerate slip-ups. Discipline. Precision. No room for slack. Oliver was barely late—just once—but her icy glare pinned him in place.
“Take notes,” her voice sliced like a blade. “There won’t be a second chance.”
Three weeks passed. Everyone walked on eggshells. Oliver kept his head down, worked meticulously. And, it seemed, she noticed. One day, he was summoned to her office.
“You’re efficient. Tell me—why haven’t you moved up yet?” Victoria asked, twirling a slim pen between her fingers.
“Dunno,” he admitted.
“There’s an exhibition in London this Friday. You’ll attend. Assess the equipment, report back. And maybe—” she paused, “—we’ll discuss a promotion.”
His stomach twisted. He’d promised Liam a trip to the park that weekend. The boy had been counting on it. And Eleanor… she’d suspect something.
Yet he went.
And as luck would have it, Victoria was in the same train carriage. Dressed casually but elegantly, she seemed almost approachable.
“Relax. I don’t bite,” she smiled. “This trip will be good for you.”
They talked the whole way. At the hotel, their rooms were—coincidentally—side by side. Oliver wondered if it really was chance.
Then, that evening—a knock. He opened the door to Victoria. A bottle of champagne in one hand, chocolates in the other.
“May I?” she murmured.
It happened quickly. Bubbles, soft laughter, her fingers brushing his shoulder… A kiss he didn’t resist.
Coming home, Oliver sensed the shift. Eleanor was distant. But she said nothing.
Then… She found the lipstick smudge on his collar.
“What’s this?” Her voice was quiet, terrifyingly calm. “I knew it wasn’t just a business trip.”
Shouting. Tears. Silence. Oliver slept on the sofa for the first time.
The next morning—the note on the table.
He stood, trembling, the paper crumpling in his grip. Hot tears blurred his vision. He hadn’t meant for this. Never planned it. But it had happened.
Back at work, Oliver drowned in routine. Victoria acted as if nothing had changed—cool, professional. When she offered another trip, he shook his head.
“Sorry. I can’t go. Promised my son. I won’t let him down again. Someone else can handle it.”
Her brow arched.
“You realize this could cost you everything?”
“I know. But I’ve already lost too much.”
He walked out without looking back.
That weekend, he took Liam to the park. Bought him ice cream. Rode the carousel. Watched him laugh. For the first time in months—peace settled in his chest.
Someone else got the promotion. And though Eleanor didn’t return straight away, a month later, they began to talk. Slowly. Like adults.
Oliver never mixed up his priorities again.
