I Found My Husband's Secret Second Phone and Decided to Follow Him Tonight

Margaret is shocked to discover that her husband has two cell phones. Desperate to save her relationship and secure her beloved daughter's future, she tries to get her husband to listen. But was that the best choice for her family?

Margaret's hand shot out from under the quilt, silencing the shrill alarm. It was still dark outside, but she got up, trying to finger-comb her brown hair tousled from sleep, and walked to the kitchen. The cold tiles made her shiver, and yet, she kept going.

She started the coffee maker and began packing lunches: peanut butter and jam sandwiches for Lisa, sliced apples and oranges for Rosa, and a chicken sandwich for her husband, Tom. Although she once cherished them, these morning rituals now felt empty.

Her marriage to Tom had grown distant, their connection fading. She longed for the days when she was younger, full of laughter and dreams.

"Mom?" Lisa's sleepy voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Good morning, sweetie," Margaret replied, placing her daughter's lunch on the counter.

"Thanks, Mom," Lisa mumbled, distracted by her phone.

Margaret called Rosa for breakfast and set the table. Tom wasn't there, of course. His absence at breakfast had become the norm. When he finally came down, he barely acknowledged her, focusing instead on his need to leave early for a meeting.

"Did you sleep well?" Margaret asked, attempting conversation.

"Yup," Tom answered sharply. "I need to eat quickly; I have that meeting."

"But there's still time," she protested, but Tom insisted on leaving soon. His breakfast sat half-eaten on the table.

After he left, Margaret found herself alone and bored of cleaning up. But suddenly, Tom burst back in, searching frantically for his phone.

"I can't find my phone," he said, panicked.

"Let me help you look for it," Margaret offered and walked toward his office, where she sensed something vibrating in one of the drawers.

"No, no, I'll look," Tom dismissed her hastily, coming into the office and quickly finding his phone somewhere else. He pocketed it and rushed out again.

Tom was so distracted that he didn't see that she was still standing in his office's doorway. Frowning, she went back inside and faced the desk drawer, which was still vibrating for some reason. Right then, she knew Tom was hiding something, so she picked the lock with a hairpin and found a second phone still ringing inside.

It looked just like Tom's but wasn't the one he had taken with him. Hesitating, then driven by a growing suspicion, Margaret tapped the screen. The message app opened to reveal texts with… Pearl. She was the daughter of Tom's boss, Mr. Dickens.

"9:30 am, usual spot," Tom's message from that morning glared back at her, breaking her heart.

"This must be the meeting he mentioned," Margaret murmured, her voice no louder than a whisper, or else the tears would start falling.

***

Hidden by a sycamore tree outside, Margaret watched her husband and the young woman through the foggy glass of a beautiful and romantic café. She had followed the address Tom had sent Pearl earlier.

Her husband looked unnaturally youthful as he laughed with Pearl. He held her hand and seemed more familiar with her than was innocently possible. Suddenly, he gave Pearl a bouquet of tulips and kissed her, and Margaret's heart sank. The truth couldn't be denied any longer.

"Tom, how could you?" she whispered to herself, tears streaking her cheeks. She fought the urge to confront them, weighed down by the thought of her children's distress.

So, she remained there by the gorgeous tree, contemplating the end of her marriage. An hour later, she watched as Tom and Pearl left the café, his hand on her back. As they disappeared somewhere, Margaret realized she couldn't let them bring her down.

A fierce resolve ignited within her, pushing her to act for herself and her daughters.

***

Margaret arrived at a new building and passed through several young people. It seemed others also chose this place as their dormitory while they attended college a few blocks away.

Her nervous hand pressed the buzzer. "I'm here to see Pearl," she declared to the guard. "I'm her mom." Once inside, she navigated the sterile halls to Pearl's door, which was adorned with youthful decorations. She braced herself as her fist knocked firmly.

Pearl opened the door, and her mouth opened in shock. "Margaret, what a surprise," Pearl said, swallowing.

"I know about you and Tom," Margaret stated, cutting through the pretense.

Pearl's smile wavered but held. "Tom? Oh, you mean your husband," she replied, acting confused.

"Stop it. I saw you," Margaret shook her head and started pleading. "He has a family. Children who need him. Please, stop this affair."

Pearl's smile finally vanished as she crossed her arms. "Margaret, look at you. You're... cold. Unattractive. Why would he stay tied down to that when he can have excitement and youth?" she asked.

"Love isn't just about excitement," Margaret countered, flinching at the harsh words from the pretty young woman. "It's about commitment, about choosing each other every day, even when it's not easy."

"Get out," Pearl snapped, her composure cracking. "Get out before I call security."

Margaret drew herself up, staring into the eyes of the girl who had helped shatter her world. Then, with a quiet dignity born of years of nurturing others, she turned and left Pearl's dorm room without another word. She returned home and considered how to face her current situation.

Confronting Tom wasn't a good option. That would only push him more toward Pearl. But she could try to make him realize why they had gotten married in the first place. Putting on her best makeup and a once-lovely blue dress, Margaret settled on winning back her husband.

***

Margaret clutched a homemade lunch as she stood before Tom's office door. She pushed it open, masking her doubts with a smile. "Forgot to pack this," she said, offering the bag. "Thought I'd bring it myself."

Tom looked up, his gaze passing over her without a second glance. "Thanks," he said dismissively.

"Busy day?" she asked.

"Swamped," he replied, eyes returning to his computer screen.

Margaret sat on the edge of his desk, trying to reignite some old spark, but lost her balance and fell. Tom's laugh, devoid of warmth, filled the room. He helped her up, but his touch was distant.

"Remember when we talked about doing something crazy here?" Margaret attempted to lighten the mood.

"Margaret, I really need to get back to work," Tom said, guiding her to the door.

"Okay...how about a surprise tonight? At home?" she insisted outside his office.

"That sounds nice, Marge, but I've got this mound of paperwork," he responded and closed the door.

Margaret accepted his excuse, defeated. As she walked home, her surroundings echoed her solitude and her fading significance in Tom's life. Later that evening, she was approached by her concerned daughters.

"Mom?" Lisa said, frowning. "You look different today. Are you okay?"

"Hey," chirped Rosa, "you're very beautiful, you know that?"

Margaret felt a flicker of pride at her daughter's words. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said, a slight warmth touching her voice. Looking at her daughters, Margaret realized she didn't need Tom at all, especially if he was willing to throw all they had built for a young, silly woman.

She resolved to find happiness, to laugh, and live freely. "Girls," she declared, "we are going to be just fine. Better than fine." Her daughters nodded, although they didn't know exactly what was happening.

Margaret knew it was time for Tom to face the consequences of his actions. She went into their bedroom, looking for something specific. Inside an antique dresser sat an address book filled with memories of a life once cherished.

Flipping through the pages, Margaret found Mr. Dickson's contact information. Her fingers hesitated on her phone as she considered the implications of what she was about to do. She knew the risks but was determined.

Sitting on the bed, she took a deep breath and dialed Perry's number. "Mr. Dickson, it's Margaret... Tom's wife," she began, steadying her voice. "I'm sorry to call so late, but there's something you need to know about Tom—about what he's done."

***

Margaret entered the poshest hotel in their town and immediately spotted Tom and Pearl laughing together as they took the elevator. She waited and watched exactly what floor the elevator stopped in.

She took a second elevator and, fortunately, heard their voices inside one of the first rooms. Pulling out her phone, Margaret composed a message to Mr. Dickson: “Your daughter and my husband are in room 1103 together at the Ritz. If you care to see, come now.”

She pressed 'send' and took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. It only took a few minutes before Mr. Dickson stormed down the hallway, furious and red-faced.

“Open this goddamn door, Pearl!” he bellowed, pounding the door with his tight fists. The door opened to reveal Tom, half-dressed, and Pearl, clutching a white sheet.

“Jesus, Mr. Dickson—don’t,” Tom stuttered, his voice laced with fear.

“Shut it, Tom,” Mr. Dickson’s voice was cold and furious. “You dare lay your hands on my girl?”

“I’m sorry,” Tom blurted, desperate. “It won’t happen again.”

“It damn right won’t,” Mr. Dickson declared, his anger subsiding slightly. “You’re done. I don’t ever want to see your face again. You’re fired!”

With that announcement, Margaret, who had been watching from the sidelines this entire time, finally left the hotel.

Tom arrived at their house only half an hour after her. But she had managed to throw most of his clothes outside. She also told the girls what happened, and they were completely on board with their mother's actions.

“Margaret, please,” Tom implored, his voice breaking, “I made a mistake. Let me see the girls.”

Margaret crossed her arms. “No, Tom. You need to face the aftermath now. The girls and I will be fine without you.”

As she closed the door, leaving her soon-to-be ex-husband outside, Margaret realized she was ready to start anew and to build a stable life for her girls, free from the shadows of Tom’s choices.

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