My Husband Mocked Me For Being “Naive” While Having An Affair In My Own Garden. He Didn’t Realize I Was Listening From The Shadows. Should I Tell Him About The “Gift” I Left In His Underwear Before The Party?
The Betrayal in the Backyard
They say that hell on earth isn’t some distant place; it’s in your own home when you are forced to watch betrayal unfold right before your very eyes. I understood the depth of that truth on one suffocating summer afternoon.
It was when I saw with my own two eyes my husband, Ethan, the man I loved with my entire being, carrying on with the young woman next door, Chloe, whom I had always treated like a little sister. Right there in the very backyard I had cultivated with so much care and dedication.
Instead of screaming, instead of making a scene, I silently went back into the house and headed straight for the kitchen. My trembling hands grabbed a bottle of itching powder—the kind that causes an unbearable itch, a relic from my youthful pranks.
An icy smile formed on my lips. The most irritating drama of their lives, directed by my own hand, was about to premiere. Secretly, I made a phone call inviting all the relatives from both our families to enjoy a play they would never forget.
A Paradise Lost
That afternoon, the sky was a deep, cloudless blue. I had just gotten back from the gym, still drenched in sweat but feeling incredibly serene. My plan was to go out to the backyard to cut a few white rose buds, still covered in dew, to make a beautiful bouquet and surprise Ethan when he got home from work.
That garden was my pride and joy. I had transformed a barren patch of land into a small paradise with all sorts of fragrant flowers and exotic plants. Every tree, every flower bed was infused with my sweat and my love.
Holding the watering can, my heart overflowed with joy, humming a tune as I walked. But when I reached the large glass sliding door that led to the garden, I stopped dead in my tracks. A stealthy whisper reached my ears, one that was not the wind or the birds.
Curious, I hid behind the curtain and peeked through a crack. And then, the scene that unfolded before me left me paralyzed. The watering can I was holding slipped from my hands, hitting the stone tiles with a sharp metallic clang that apparently no one heard.
My ears were ringing; the blood seemed to stop in my veins. Under the jasmine-covered trellis where I used to sit and read every afternoon, two figures were entwined in a wild frenzy. The long silky hair of Chloe, my innocent neighbor, was splayed across the lush green lawn that I myself mowed and cared for every single day.
The hand of Ethan, my husband whom I caressed every night, was running down her bare back. The crisp white shirt I had ironed for him that very morning lay crumpled and abandoned next to an old rose bush.
The woman’s lustful giggles mixed with the deep, seductive voice of the man I called my husband. They were like thousands of poison needles stabbing directly into my bleeding heart. I felt as if someone was squeezing my chest; I couldn’t breathe.
I grabbed onto the wall, trying not to collapse. I tried to tell myself I had seen it wrong, that it was just a nightmare. But no, it was all too clear, too raw. They didn’t even bother to hide, to find a more discreet place. They shamelessly turned my garden, the space I loved most, into the stage for their sordid, clandestine affair.
I don’t know how long I stood there; time seemed to stand still. I could only stare at those two people. The initial pain quickly gave way to a sense of disgust and a bone-chilling anger.
I had sacrificed everything for that man. I gave up a promising career to be a homemaker so he could focus on his work. I took care of his every need, considered his family my own. And this is what I got in return: a betrayal in my own home with a girl I had treated like a sister.
When their tryst was over, they lazily got dressed. I even heard Chloe’s syrupy voice:
“Ethan, my love, you spoil me so much. But what if Olivia finds out?”
Ethan let out a dismissive laugh, a smile I had never seen on him. He stroked her hair, his voice full of arrogance:
“What are you worried about? My wife is so good, so naive. She would never suspect a thing. Just let her keep taking care of this pretty garden so we have a romantic little spot for our dates.”
