I Found A Burner Phone In My Wife’s Jeans Just Two Months After Our Wedding. It Revealed A “5-year Plan” To Leave Me For My Half-brother. How Do I Survive This Betrayal?

The Perfect Family Facade

My brother and my wife betrayed me, and my father told me to keep it down for family image. That’s enough for my villain arc, so I decided to burn it all down, leaving no chance for reunion.

I, a 30-year-old man, have an older half-brother whom I’ll call Jerry, 35. My dad had Jerry with his ex-wife, but he left her when Jerry was just 6 months old. My mom told me they got divorced because they were simply incompatible. However, my dad continued to play an active role in Jerry’s life, sharing custody with his ex-wife.

Two years after his divorce, my dad met my mom, and they married within a year. They had what my mom describes as a fairy tale romance. She recalls sitting in a coffee shop when my dad saw her from outside. Apparently, it was love at first sight, and he walked inside to ask her out.

After a few months of dating, he proposed, and my mom instantly said yes, convinced they were soulmates meant to be together. So far so good, right? Unfortunately, about a year into their marriage, my dad cheated on my mom with one of his co-workers.

Out of guilt, he confessed, and my mother decided to forgive him. They went to marriage counseling and worked through their issues. My mother believed having a baby would solve all their problems, which is how I came into existence. My mother thinks this is a romantic story, but I see my parents as a dysfunctional couple, not the perfect image they try to present to the world.

Keeping up appearances and pretending to be perfect means a lot to them. Even when I was a child, they would act madly in love whenever people came over, and everyone would shower them with praise for maintaining their spark after years of marriage. But the truth was, like any other couple, they were normal. They didn’t constantly kiss or hug each other at home. They certainly weren’t in the honeymoon phase as they pretended to be. It was just an act, and I realized that as I got older.

Growing Up Under Pressure

This pressure to appear perfect extended to me as well. I was forced to enroll in a bunch of classes so I would excel at everything. As a child, I was constantly busy with little time to relax. It wasn’t until high school that I started protesting, and finally, they allowed me some downtime.

My dad made sure that both Jerry and I were straight-A students who excelled academically and otherwise. Jerry got into one of the top medical schools in the country, while I ended up at an Ivy League college for business. There was always immense pressure on us, and while I don’t recommend this parenting style, I’m fortunate it worked out for me.

However, my dad also believed he had the right to control our personal lives. My mom was no better, as she always agreed with him. When Jerry turned 30, my dad told him it was time to start looking for a woman to marry and settle down with. He insisted Jerry was getting older and would soon run out of options.

At the time, Jerry was dating his now-wife, Tina, 34. They had been in an on-again, off-again relationship for almost 5 years, so they knew each other well. After that conversation with my dad, Jerry got serious about Tina, proposed within a year, and they married three years ago. Last year, they even had a baby together.

Jerry and I aren’t close, so I didn’t hear any of this from him. Instead, I found out from my dad when he had the same conversation with me earlier this year. He boasted about how he convinced Jerry to marry Tina and how happy Jerry is with a wife and son. My dad wanted the same for me. He even brought up his own affair from before I was born, telling me that he had been unfulfilled but committed to my mom. He claimed that having a child grounded him and suggested I do the same.

I took his advice with a pinch of salt. I wasn’t about to let him guide my relationship decisions. However, my dad believed he had changed my life as well. But the truth is, I had already planned to propose to my girlfriend, Carla, 30. We had been together for 3 years, living together for two, and I was ready to take the next step. Two months after the conversation with my dad, I proposed on my birthday. Carla accepted, and we got married 3 months ago.

The Discovery

I thought everything was going well, but clearly, I was wrong, or I wouldn’t be in this situation now. Carla and I, like I said, had only been married for 2 months. But unfortunately, I had to file for divorce about a week ago after I found out that she had been having an affair with Jerry ever since we got engaged.

It was a huge shock to me, and I wouldn’t have even found out if I hadn’t accidentally stumbled upon her burner phone. I couldn’t find a piece of clothing that belonged to me, so I was searching all over the house. She wasn’t at home at the time, and I thought maybe she had kept it with her clothes accidentally.

As I went through her clothes, I felt something in one of the pockets of a pair of jeans. I took it out and found another phone. The phone wasn’t password protected, and there was only one text thread on it. The phone number looked familiar, and sure enough, it was Jerry’s. I was horrified but continued to scroll through the chat.

The texts started about 3 weeks after I proposed to her, and they were flirting like two teenagers. A few months into our engagement, they had confessed their love for each other and were promising to stick it out no matter what. Their plan was to stay with their respective partners until my nephew turned five and didn’t need his mother as much. Then, they would file for divorce and confess the affair.

Jerry would get shared custody of his son, and they would leave us to be together. I was horrified to read all that, and even more so when I realized they planned to carry on this farce for 5 years. It was deranged.

I immediately started packing my things so I could leave the house. Carla wouldn’t be home until late, so I took the time to pack all that I could. I took screenshots of the messages on her phone and drove to a hotel out of town. I didn’t leave her a message; I just left the burner phone on our bed. I knew she’d know what it meant.