Family Psychologist Gets an Envelope Signed 'Truth about Your Husband' – Story of the Day

Emma, a successful family psychologist, finds a chilling envelope with the words "Truth about your husband" in her mail just after she gets home. The blackmailer wants to take everything from her and ruin her life. Will Emma be able to protect herself and her family before it's too late?

It had been a long day for Emma. If she were to be honest, all days were equally long if you were a famous family psychologist with a thriving practice. But Emma knew her success was not just hers. The credit also went to her husband, John, who always supported her.

Emma was 48, and John was 27. The age gap had never been a problem between them. He was understanding and knew how much she valued her career.

Somewhere, John was also assured that because she was successful and brought a good income home, he would never have to work a day in his life and could comfortably become a stay-at-home husband.

That's exactly what John had done after he married Emma, and Emma didn't mind at all. His drinking problem infuriated her, but other than that, he was a good partner — or so Emma had convinced herself to believe all this while…

As Emma drove home from her office, her hands clutching the steering wheel tightly, the thoughts of her husband were interrupted by the faint voice emanating from the car stereo.

Emma increased the volume with one hand while keeping her eyes fixed on the road, her other hand still on the steering wheel.

"Today, we have the privilege of speaking with Emma, a renowned family psychologist in our city," The radio host's voice echoed with admiration. "Emma, thank you for joining us."

Emma smiled as her own recorded voice appeared through the radio. "Thank you for having me. It's truly an honor to be here."

It was her recent interview with a famous radio station in the city.

The host continued, "Emma, you've been praised for your insightful approach to family dynamics. Our listeners often commend you for being not just a psychologist but a genuine guide in building strong family foundations. They admire your lifestyle and the traditional and faithful couple you and your husband are. What's your secret?"

"Well, I believe in the power of open communication, trust, and understanding," Emma repeated the line and chuckled. She always told her patients the same. She had dealt with several modern-day couples with all sorts of problems in their relationships — cheating husbands and wives, the most common of them.

Emma was old school when it came to relationships. Tradition was important to her. She had previously dealt with a few incidents where couples with non-traditional sexual orientations approached her.

Emma was against it. She insisted on maintaining a sense of balance in her life—a man and a woman were what defined a couple. She had staunchly conservative views on family and was not afraid to express them.

Emma, in fact, ran a channel to discuss and share those views, and hundreds and thousands of people who followed her blog agreed with her ideas and practiced them.

"...Traditions and values matter," her own voice continued. "Both my husband and I make conscious efforts to nurture our connection, and our faith plays a significant role in grounding us."

The host went on to praise her as he delved deeper into Emma's personal life, highlighting the picture-perfect image she portrayed to the public.

Emma listened, the slight smile on her lips cut short by the appearance of her house in the distance. She turned down the volume, the compliments lingering in her mind.

Pulling over in her driveway, Emma turned off the radio and killed the engine. She grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and had just climbed out of the vehicle when she heard her next-door neighbor's voice.

"Just watched your recent episode on the channel, Emma!" The woman chirped. "Oh dear, I love it. You might not hear this often, but you're doing such a good deed, guiding people to God and family values. When will your next episode be up?"

Emma smiled at the elderly lady. "Soon, Mrs. Franklin," she replied, shutting her car door. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm lovely, as always!"

Emma greeted her other neighbors, who wished her good evening. Then she stopped right near her mailbox. She checked the letters in there — mostly credit card bills and promotional letters, she noticed.

But one mail in particular grabbed Emma's attention. It was a black envelope with just the words "Truth about your husband" printed in big letters on the front.

Emma's brows furrowed. She turned the envelope over in her palms. No address was mentioned at the back, either. She finally tore open the flap and peered inside to notice a folded sheet and a couple of photos.

Emma's pulse quickened, and eyes widened in horror as she pulled out the pictures. "Oh my god…" she gasped quietly, staring at the photos of her husband. He lay in bed with another man, their bare bodies wrapped around each other. The other man's face was not visible, but John's was.

Emma panicked. Her hands shook as she hurriedly stuffed the pictures into the envelope and pulled out the folded sheet. A message, typed out and not handwritten, addressed her.

"Hello, doctor!

It's time for your husband to repent. Announce that all views you share on your channel are fake or kill your husband. The choice is yours. Fail to comply, and these photos will be public in three days. Involve the police, and the world will witness your husband's infidelity. Time is running out."

Emma's breath caught in her throat. Who was this person? How did they know her address?

"You OK there, dear?" Mrs. Franklin's voice from behind almost made her jump.

"Yes, yes, Mrs. Franklin. I-I'm fine," Emma plastered a fake smile as she turned to the older lady. But her heart was sinking.

Emma stuffed the letter back into the envelope with trembling hands and marched toward her house.

Stepping inside, she immediately closed the door and leaned against the frame, finally able to take a breath.

She no longer felt safe in her own home. Whoever this blackmailer was knew where she lived. She had a young boy at home. She would never forgive herself if something happened to her son, Caleb.

Emma's terrified thoughts were interrupted by the loud voices from the TV.

John was sprawled across the living room couch, engrossed in whatever he was watching.

Emma couldn't hold herself back. The images she had just seen of him with another man flashed before her eyes. It was all his fault! He had put them in this situation!

With her fists clenched, she approached him and flung the envelope on the coffee table.

The photographs spilled from the envelope and landed on the table.

John looked at them, and his eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. He sat up, visibly shaken.

He swallowed thickly as he finally looked at her. "Look, Emma, I-I," He fumbled for words. "I can explain."

"How dare you?" she fumed. "How could you do this to us? To me? Do you understand that your stupidity could crumble everything I've built? My own husband is bisexual??"

John picked up the photos, and his face contorted with a strange expression Emma couldn't comprehend. But it wasn't a look of confusion. John had messed up really badly, and he knew it.

"I-I know the guy in the pictures," he confessed, embarrassed. "He's—It was just a fling, Emma. Trust me. I felt bad about cheating on you, and I soon stopped seeing this guy. I'd never expected it could harm you—us—in this manner. I didn't want to hurt you, so I never told you anything."

Before Emma could react, their son Caleb's soft voice distracted them. "Mommy, are you OK?"

John quickly hid the pictures under a cushion and sprang to his feet. Emma wiped her angry tears. How could she forget Caleb was home? She didn't want her little boy to witness his parents arguing.

"H-hey, champ," John smiled at Caleb. "We are OK. Mind if you give Mommy and Daddy some time to talk? How about you go to your room and play some games?"

Emma took a deep breath and forced a smile, too. "I'm OK, sweetie," she said. "Mommy and Daddy just need to talk."

Caleb paused for a moment as if he didn't believe them. But a minute later, he was gone. John sighed and buried his face in his palms as he sank onto the couch. Emma sat across from him.

"What do you want me to do now?" he asked her. "I can't change the past, Emma. But I can assure you I will do anything to make things right."

"There's a letter inside the envelope. Read it," Emma said flatly.

John retrieved the envelope from under the cushion and read the letter.

"This is insane!" he cried as he finished reading. "We have to do what this person wants, Emma. We can't let those photos go public. You know it would end your career if people discovered I'm bi. And I'm sure you don't want that. Please make the announcement!"

"I'm obviously not going to throw my career under the bus because of your past, John!" Emma hissed, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Who is he?" she asked, her gaze fixed on him. "How long were you two screwing?"

"I-I don't exactly know, but I guess…for a few months," John admitted bitterly. "I met him at a bar, and we kinda…clicked. At least, that's what I thought initially. But I soon lost interest in him, and I ended things. He told me his name was Reuben, but I don't think that was his real name.

"I once tried to find him on social media, but it was pointless. It was as if he was wiped off the face of Earth. One of the reasons I ended things with him was because he was very possessive. I have no clue where he is now. It's been like months since we parted ways. This letter could be from him if you ask me."

"Go and see if Caleb is fine," she ordered. "I can't believe you've put me in this position. But I'll sort things out. I won't let anyone destroy the career and life I've built."

Emma's evening and night were anything but normal. Only she knew how difficult it was for her to eat dinner. She just couldn't swallow the food. She pretended to be fine for Caleb's sake and forced herself to eat. When he got up and left, her insides punished her for eating. She hurried to the toilet and vomited.

Emma and John didn't make love that night. If she was being honest with herself, she felt disgusted even to touch him. She didn't know if he had slept with other men or women behind her back. But she was so hurt that she didn't have the courage to confront him about it.

"Once a cheater, always a cheater." She knew people didn't say it out loud, but that was the truth. At least John was decent enough to sleep in the guest bedroom after what he had done.

Emma tried reading a book while lying in bed alone that night, thinking it would help her sleep. But she just stared into space, her mind racing with thoughts of her husband's infidelity and the danger looming over her successful career.

When Emma finally realized she had zoned out while holding the book, she noticed it was three in the morning. She couldn't go to her practice like this, looking like a patient herself.

She messaged her assistant, Lucy, to cancel all appointments for the day and turned off her bedside lamp, deciding to catch some sleep. But Emma couldn't sleep a wink that night.

She was sitting in bed, clutching the blackmailer's envelope, when the sun's morning rays streamed in through the bedroom windows.

Emma hadn't noticed it before, but the letter had an address. She had been too preoccupied with her thoughts, thoughts of pain and betrayal, as well as her professional stress, to notice it.

Emma had decided to read the letter when she couldn't fall asleep. She had read it again and again. She had been looking for clues, patterns, or anything else that could lead her to the letter's author.

Finally, after turning on her bedside lamp and holding the letter up against the light, the address at the bottom of the page had become visible to her.

Emma now reached for her phone on the bedside table and entered the address in Google Maps. The location wasn't far from her home. An hour-long drive, she noted.

This was it, Emma thought. She wouldn't surrender to the blackmailer's demands and risk her career or husband's life. She would figure out an alternate way to stop whoever this person was.

Emma got ready and left the house. John was in the kitchen when she was leaving. He had made breakfast for her, but after last night's dinner, she felt like she couldn't stand the smell of food any longer.

Day one was over, Emma recalled as she drove to the destination. A part of her was afraid it would all be for naught and that she would have to choose between John's life and her career.

As much as Emma hated John for what he had done, she couldn't just kill him. She loved him. She knew people made mistakes, but you wouldn't just kill them for their faults? Would you? However, she couldn't let her career be ruined, either.

Emma's knuckles turned white as her grip on the steering wheel tightened. She really didn't know what she would do if this visit turned out futile.

"You've arrived at your destination," the voice from the GPS soon snapped her to the present. Emma pulled over and looked out the car window.

She was staring at an abandoned building in a deserted plot, its dilapidated exterior adorned with weathered bricks and cracked windows. Graffiti and odd spray-painted slogans covered the walls.

Emma got out of her car and walked to the entrance. There was no door, just a void. Her footsteps seemed to echo as she entered the space. A faint dampness lingered in the air.

Overturned chairs and makeshift tables in one area gave the impression that people had been meeting there. As she walked down the corridor, she observed murals on the walls, some of which were quietly rebellious. In another room, tattered posters with defiant manifestos and artistic expressions clung to the walls.

Emma realized it was a center of activity for the marginalized groups. She was alone for the time being. She reasoned that perhaps people met here at night.

Emma combed through the stuff stowed in one of the rooms, but she found nothing that would lead her to the blackmailer. She went upstairs to the second story but found nothing there either.

Emma sighed as she returned to the front entrance. She hadn't discovered anything that could aid her search.

It was at that moment her heart dropped. Tears welled up in her eyes. She knelt like a child and buried her face in her knees, the realization dawning on her that she was helpless.

Emma stayed there like that for a couple of minutes. When she finally rose, her gaze was drawn to the makeshift table near the entrance. A shiver ran down her spine. She dashed to the table and snatched the envelope up.

The envelope was fresh and clean. She was sure it wasn't there before. It had recently been placed there by someone. Emma ran out of the building and took a quick look around. She might spot the blackmailer if he hadn't fled.

But Emma couldn't see a single soul in close sight. With her hands shaking, she tore open the envelope flap and found another letter inside. Her tears didn't stop when she read it.

"Your relentless pursuit will be your downfall. If you continue searching for the blackmailer, the photos will be immediately published. You have less than two days now, doctor. Choose: kill your husband or sacrifice your career."

Emma's heart dropped. She wished it was all a bad dream. If it were, she would just wake up any moment, and it would all be over. She would return to her happy life as a successful woman. She would go back to the life she was so proud of building for her family.

But it wasn't. Emma had lost, really lost. There was no other way out of this situation but to choose between her career and her husband.

The drive home was a blur to Emma.

"Hey, Emma, I was—"

"Mommy, will you—"

Emma didn't stop to hear what John and Caleb were saying. As she arrived home, she dashed to her bedroom and locked herself in.

"I want to be alone for some time! Just leave me alone!" Emma's voice croaked as she said that. She knew she sounded pathetic. The strong, independent woman the world considered her was now locked in a room, crying.

Emma couldn't believe it herself, but she had made up her mind. She would choose her career and get rid of John.

It wasn't like her decision affected only her. If she gave up her career, Caleb would probably be tossed into the shelter system. She wouldn't let that happen, and she wouldn't let the world just laugh at her and mock her for being a fake woman. They would question her, wouldn't they?

"She was against non-traditional couples, and now her own husband comes out as bisexual? She did seem fake! It was all too good to be true!"

Emma didn't leave her room the entire day. She had heard John asking if she wanted to eat dinner, but she didn't reply. She had also heard Caleb asking if she was OK, and John had handled the situation by telling Caleb she was sick and needed rest.

At around midnight, though, Emma left her room. She tiptoed out of the room, the wood softly creaking underneath her feet. She hated herself for what she was going to do, but she didn't have a choice.

Emma stopped outside the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. A row of neatly arranged meds and pills stared back at her. With trembling fingers, she retrieved the bottle of sleeping pills. Her hands shook, and her heart raced as she held it.

The tiny bottle, orange in color, had a warning: "Caution: Taking more than four pills a day could cause overdose with lethal consequences."

"I'm so sorry, John," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

Sniffling, Emma checked the guest bedroom and Caleb's room. Her son and husband were fast asleep. It was the perfect opportunity. Emma went to the kitchen and pulled out one of the wine bottles from the wine rack.

Emma wasn't thinking straight. She didn't care about the consequences of what she was doing. She just wanted all of it to end. She just wanted to get back to her life and career. It was fine if John wasn't a part of it. She wouldn't let Caleb suffer because of John.

Emma carefully removed the wine cork and stared at the pill between her fingers. She dropped the first one into the bottle and then reached for another pill. But Emma hesitated this time. Tears had already spilled from her eyes, and her hands shook as it dawned on her what she was doing.

She was going to kill John and become a murderer! While he hadn't been the best husband to her, she couldn't do that to him, to anyone. She was a doctor. She helped people. She didn't ruin lives. "Stop it, Emma," a voice inside her told her. "Just stop what you're doing."

Emma stuffed the cork back into the wine bottle and dashed to the bathroom, crying. She emptied the bottle of pills into the commode and flushed the pills. Emma then sank against a wall across, clutching her head in her hands. She only had one day left now. She hadn't killed John. So now, she would have to do what the other option was: give up her career.

Emma sat in her room the next morning, holding her phone in her hands. She hadn't slept all night, thinking of an alternate way to help herself out of the situation. But nothing had come to her mind. This is the only way out, she thought and dialed her assistant. It was over. Just a few more hours and the world would bash her, she thought.

A few rings went through, and Lucy's voice appeared through the line.

Emma took a deep breath. "Hey, Lucy," she said, her lips quivering as she spoke. "W-we need to arrange an emergency broadcast. Round up the team and get them to the studio as soon as possible."

"Emma, are you alright?" Lucy asked. "You canceled all appointments the other day, and now this. What's going on? No, really. I'm worried. This is the first time you've called me since canceling the appointments."

"It's…" Emma paused as she recalled how her life had taken a U-turn.

Sooner or later, everyone would know what had happened. There was no point in hiding it any longer. The world would see her as a hypocrite, a liar who couldn't practice what she preached. But at least she wouldn't be a murderer.

"It's about my personal life," Emma said, her voice croaking. "And…it's about exposing the truth, no matter how painful. Make the title something interesting and captivating…like 'wolf in sheep's clothing' and the sinner.

"I need to announce that my husband cheated on me with another man…" she added, filling Lucy in on the details that needed to be added for the broadcast.

Emma heard Lucy gasp on the other end of the line. "Emma, are you sure? Listen, you know we can't do this! It will hurt your career. Maybe talk to John? This isn't just about you, Em. It's about him, too. Come on, Emma. There has to be some other way out."

Lucy was right. Nothing would be the same if the truth came to light. Her career would be over. Her, John's, and Caleb's lives would be toppled forever. But Emma was helpless.

Emma closed her eyes. "I know," she managed to say. "I'm thinking about everyone. The truth needs to come out before anyone else uses it against me—us, I mean. So please gather the team, and I will see you in the studio. This is about reclaiming control over my own narrative, no matter how difficult it might be. Thank you."

It was a lie. Emma was doing all of it because she didn't have a choice. She had considered her options, and it was time for her to buckle up for what lay ahead.

Emma took a long shower, although she knew she needed to reach the studio soon. But this was one last peaceful shower she wanted to enjoy before her life changed forever.

In today's world, where people form opinions about you based on your social media profile, she knew she would have a hard time ahead. Her successful channel would be filled with comments criticizing her and John's relationship.

She would lose some people's trust, the followers. Eventually, her practice would shut down. Her life was going to become a mess. The children at Caleb's school, especially the mean ones, would bully him.

Painful times lay ahead of her. The only relief: at least John's explicit photos wouldn't be public, and she wouldn't be in jail for killing her own husband.

Emma stepped out in the bathrobe and changed into a decent dress for the occasion. What did one wear when they were going to ruin their life by themselves?

Emma gave John a hug before she left the house. She drove to the studio peacefully, ready to sacrifice her career.

"Emma," Lucy was waiting for her in the parking lot and dashed over to her as she pulled over.

"Emma, don't do this," Lucy pleaded as Emma climbed out of her car. "People are going to hate you. We only recently got a million subscribers, and you were so happy."

"Is the team here?" Emma asked as if she hadn't heard anything else Lucy had said.

"Yes, yes, they are," Lucy replied.

"Well then, let's keep going."

As Emma entered the studio and sat across from her team, she noticed the visible shock on everyone's faces. She had been in their shoes not long ago. She knew how they were feeling. But they had no idea how she had felt when she learned about John's infidelity. It was worse for her.

"Can I see the script?" Emma asked her writer flatly.

"Emma, I, uh," Nancy stammered. "Are we really doing this?"

Emma sighed. "I know you guys don't want to do this. And if I had a choice, I wouldn't either. 30 mins, Nancy. I need the script in 30 mins. I have already briefed Lucy about everything that has happened. Please sit with her and work on it."

As Lucy and Nancy left, Emma wondered how she would handle the press. It would be hard. After exactly 30 minutes, Lucy gave her the script. Emma read it, swallowing her tears. Nancy had written it as professionally as she could. The situation was indeed dire, but the words somehow didn't make it sound that ugly.

"All right, let's go. I'm ready," Emma ordered the team ten minutes later.

The lights in the studio dimmed, and the "ON AIR" sign flickered to life. Emma positioned herself in front of the camera.

When the cameraman signaled her she could start, Emma looked right into the camera. Her hands that held the script shook. But she couldn't stop now. The preview appeared, "Cheating Husband: Sheep in Wolf's Clothing, the Sinner."

"Hello, everyone, and welcome back to my channel," Emma then started. "The main idea behind today's live is sad, tragic even. I recently learned about my husband—" Before Emma could continue, a security guard burst into the room.

"Miss Emma, someone asked me to hand it over to you and said it was urgent," he said, holding out an envelope. "Some courier guy. I didn't see his face."

Emma realized this envelope was identical to the other two she had found. She tore open the flap and found another letter inside.

"Justice was served. Your husband is dead; the condition has been fulfilled."

Emma's hands went to her mouth in shock as the letter slid from her hand and landed on the floor. She didn't even care if she was live or not. "Where's my phone?" she yelled. "Where the hell is my goddamn phone?"

Everyone at the studio panicked. They began looking for Emma's phone, and Lucy found it. Emma dialed John, but he wasn't answering.

"Pick up! Pick up, John!"

Emma was freaking out, but John never answered. She couldn't understand how he could be dead. When she left for the studio, he was at home. Safe and sound. He was making breakfast.

Emma dialed the home landline. A few rings went through when Caleb's voice appeared through the device. "Hello?"

"Caleb, honey, where's daddy?" Emma asked tremblingly. "Is he there? Can you please tell him Mommy wants to talk?"

"Mommy, Daddy was watching TV and drinking. But then he got very angry…and left."

"What do you mean, Caleb? Where is Daddy? Where did he go?"

"I don't know…" Caleb's reply came, and Emma's heart sank. "He was using his phone and saw your broadcast. He shouted something like, 'She's going to blow my cover!' He got very angry and left the house, Mommy. Then he went to his car."

The room spun. Emma sank onto the floor, the phone landing beside her. Emma recalled how she had added a sleeping pill to one of John's wine bottles. She had thrown the rest of the tablets away, but she had forgotten to empty the wine bottle.

Was John coming to the studio after watching the broadcast? Did he lose control of the wheel because he felt sleepy from the pill? Where was he? What happened?

"Emma, Emma!" Lucy's words snapped her to the present.

Emma looked up at Lucy, and from the tears in the woman's eyes, Emma knew something wrong, very wrong had happened.

"Emma, I just….I just got a call from the cops," Lucy announced, holding Emma's shoulder. "John… His car rammed into a tree. He was…driving at high speed. They took him to the hospital, but it was too late. He had died on the spot. The cops are suspecting he was driving under the influence."

Emma's action eventually got John killed. The realization of it was devastating for her.

The studio echoed with Emma's painful screams and cries, but nothing would change.

In the end, Emma saved her career but lost her husband forever.

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