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 Second Betrayal

Saturday morning, the day of the party, I woke up very early. The sky was still dark, but I wasn’t sleepy. I went out to the backyard, took a deep breath of the fresh morning air.

The garden was still beautiful, the roses shyly showing their colors, the jasmine still giving off its fragrance. But in my eyes, it was no longer a peaceful paradise; it was a silent witness to betrayal.

Calmly, I cut the most beautiful flowers, put them in a luxurious crystal vase, and placed it in the center of the living room. The stage had to be perfect down to the smallest detail.

Around 8:00, Ethan woke up yawning. He came down to the kitchen and found me preparing a hearty breakfast.

“Wow, you’re up early today, my love,” he said, his voice sleepy.

“Today is an important day, honey. I had to get up early to prepare everything,” I replied with a smile.

My smile must have been so radiant that it surprised him a little, but he didn’t think much of it and sat down to eat his breakfast with gusto.

“Hey honey,” he said while eating, “I checked the joint savings account yesterday and saw that a considerable amount was missing. Did you take out money for something?”

His question made my hand, which was holding a glass of milk, pause for a moment. I knew that sooner or later he would ask. $50,000 was the amount I had secretly withdrawn a few days earlier to prepare for my new life after it was all over. I had transferred it to a secret account that only I knew about.

I looked up and met his eyes directly with an expression of complete innocence.

“Oh yes, I took out a little to organize the party. Mom said it had to be grand with expensive dishes, and I was worried I wouldn’t have enough. Besides, I thought if there was anything left over, we could use it to trade in our car. Ours is getting a bit old.”

I had this answer prepared. It was logical and at the same time appealed to Ethan’s ego and desire for show. Indeed, upon hearing about the new car, his face immediately relaxed. He laughed.

“That’s very thoughtful, my love. Yes, let’s do it. Now that I’ve been promoted, we should have a car to match. Leave it all to me.”

He suspected nothing, even encouraged me to spend. I sighed in relief inwardly. The first step had gone well.

But this conversation unintentionally opened a new line of investigation for me: the joint savings account. I suddenly remembered, where had I put it after taking out the money? I used to keep important papers in the small safe in the study.

After Ethan left for work, I went up to the study and opened the safe. The savings account statement was still there, but next to it, I saw a strange folder. I had never seen it before. Curious, I picked it up.

It was an investment partnership agreement. Partner A was my husband, Ethan Hayes. But Partner B… that name stunned me. Chloe Sodto. It was Chloe, my neighbor.

I turned the pages trembling. The contract specified that Ethan would contribute a capital of $100,000 to open a luxury boutique with Chloe. The address of the store was also clearly indicated, on one of the busiest streets in the city center. The date of signing was three months ago.

$100,000. That figure was like a hammer blow to my head. Where did that money come from? Our joint account at its peak barely exceeded $50,000, which was all my savings. Where did he get $100,000? Did he have another secret fund I didn’t know about?

I got to the last page where the signatures of both parties were, and then a small detail made me freeze. Below Ethan’s signature, in the account information for the transfer, was the account number of an unknown bank—an account I had never heard him mention. But the most terrible thing was that the account was in the names of two people: Ethan Hayes and Olivia Miller. Me.

My blood ran cold. He had forged my signature. He had opened another joint account without my knowledge, and he had used that account for his shady business.

Quickly, I called a friend who worked at a bank. I asked her to check the information for that account. Ten minutes later, she called me back, her voice worried.

“Olivia, it’s true. There is an account in both your names. It was opened almost a year ago. And…” she hesitated.

“And what else? Tell me,” I urged her.

“And three months ago, a home equity loan of $100,000 was granted to that account. The collateral for the loan is the house you live in.”

Our house. The house that I had decorated and cared for with such dedication. He had dared to take out a second mortgage on it to give the money to his mistress to open a store, and I, the co-owner, knew absolutely nothing about it.

How had he managed to deceive the bank? My signature, the house deeds—fraud. This was no longer a simple infidelity, a sentimental betrayal. This was a crime of fraud and embezzlement.

The anger inside me reached its peak. I had underestimated the cruelty and cunning of this man. He had not only betrayed me, but he was conspiring to take everything that was mine. He was leaving me with nothing.

I sank into the chair, clutching the contract tightly. Fine, Ethan. Fine. You yourself have provided me with another irrefutable piece of evidence. Tonight’s party will not only have an irritating gift; I will give you and your mistress another surprise gift: a legal gift enough to ruin your lives.