I Caught a Man in Our Wardrobe and Initially Suspected My Wife of Cheating, but the Truth Was Far More Shocking

When Duncan goes away on his business trips, he thinks that his family is happily settled at home. But when he returns, he discovers that his daughter has been seeing ghosts and there's an unknown man hiding in his closet. Who is the man and what is he doing there? Is his wife having an affair?

My wife, Emmie, and I have been together for fifteen years. And in those fifteen years, we have spun an entire life together—weaving in the joys and tribulations of family.

And through the years, we have been blessed with our daughter, Leila—a bright-eyed ten-year-old who filled our days with the laughter and curiosity that only a child can summon.

Life was perfectly ordinary in the best way—until Leila started talking about a ghost.

It began as a harmless tale spun by Leila. At least, at the time, I thought that it was just my daughter's imagination running wild.

As a businessman, constant traveling was a normal occurrence for me. Emmie and I were used to navigating our lives according to my schedule.

At first, I thought that she would give me a difficult time about it—unsure of how we would build a life together while I was packing up and leaving every few weeks.

"Your job is important," Emmie said. "And sure, it takes you away from us from time to time, Duncan. But it's worth it because you enjoy what you do."

I didn't expect her to understand. But I should have known; my wife wasn't like anyone else I'd ever met.

So, when my partner at the firm told me that we needed to travel to another state for a business meeting with new investors, I was settled in the fact that my wife and daughter would be home and settled in their routine.

"How long will you be gone this time?" Emmie asked me as she prepared dinner.

"Just over a week," I said, picking at the jar of roasted nuts we had on the counter.

"That's not too bad," she said, smiling. "You'll be back before we know it."

It would have been so easy to think that my wife wanted me to stay away—that she reveled in the distance between us. But when she helped me pack, ensuring that there were treats tucked into my suitcase, I knew that she was everything Leila and I needed her to be.

"Yes," I said. "But will you manage with Leila after school? I could ask my mom."

Emmie chuckled.

We both know that my mother loved Leila—she loved being a grandmother but on her own terms. She wanted to spoil our daughter, but only for an hour or so. She wouldn't want to stay with Leila unless she had no choice but to step in.

"I've asked my mom already," Emmie said, stirring the pot. "She'll come over the night before you leave, because I know the airport drop-offs are always early."

The rest of the week flew by in a haze of homework and work presentations.

And then, Marie came over—Emmie's mother.

"Another trip?" she asked me. "Lots of traveling for you, Duncan."

Emmie drove me to the airport early the next morning. She fixed my tie and waved goodbye before heading home to sort Leila out before school.

I went on the business trip and came home earlier than expected. Before heading home, I took a cab to my wife and daughter's favorite bakery and stocked up on all their favorite treats.

"Dad, you're home!" Leila said, running to the door and jumping into my arms.

"My trip ended early," I said, hugging her tightly.

As much as I loved my job, the downside was that I knew that I missed out on parts of Leila's childhood.

"Do you want to get some ice cream?" I asked her. "Before Mom gets home from work."

Leila nodded and shouted to Marie, her grandmother, that we were going out for a while.

Which was when my daughter revealed that she had been seeing a ghost in the house.

"What do you mean, honey?" I asked.

Leila looked at her ice cream cone for a while—watching a drop of ice cream fall onto her shoe.

"The other night, when I was going to the bathroom," she said. "There was a ghost. Floating by the stairs."

"I'm sure you saw Grandma or Grandpa," I said.

I knew that when my mother-in-law stayed over—Emmie's father also ended up coming in the evenings to have dinner and spend the night before going back to their house. He didn't like to be away for so long.

"Grandpa didn't come this time," Leila said. "Only Grandma. She said that Grandpa was with their cat."

I didn't know what else to tell Leila. I didn't want to brush her off and tell her that it was her imagination playing up. But at the same time, I wasn't sure about entertaining the topic.

"How about this?" I asked. "If you see it again, or if you see anything strange, you come and tell me immediately."

Leila nodded enthusiastically, and we left to head back.

My wife had just come home and she was busy in the kitchen with Leila—homework and cooking were their routine. Marie was nowhere to be found, so I assumed that she was taking a nap.

If I had it my way, I would have unpacked later in the week but my wife hated half-packed suitcases or piles of clothes sitting around.

As I opened the door to our walk-in closet, I got the biggest shock of my life.

There, standing between my work clothing and Emmie's dresses, was an older man, buttoning his clothes.

"Emmie!" I bellowed before even asking who he was. "What is this? Who is this man?"

The next thing I heard were my wife's and daughter's footsteps thundering through the house.

"Duncan?" Emmie called out, coming into our bedroom. "What's going on?"

"I should be asking you that," I retorted. "Who is this man?"

"What man?" Emmie asked, her eyes wide.

The older man peered out of the closet, and Emmie screamed in surprise.

"Who are you?" she gasped.

In that moment, I released the breath that I didn't know I had been holding. When I stumbled on the man, my first instinct went to the possibility of my wife cheating on me.

But the look of surprise on her face told me that this man was equally unknown to her.

"That's the ghost!" Leila gasped, hiding behind her mother. "I saw him last night!"

"What?" Emmie and I said at the same time.

"Call the police!" Emmie hissed.

Then, Marie walked into our room, holding a glass of water.

"What's going on?" she asked before she saw the man.

"Tony?" she said. "What are you still doing here?"

"You know this man?" Emmie gasped. "How?"

My mother-in-law grimaced. She looked more uncomfortable than I had ever seen her.

"Explain yourself, Mom," Emmie said.

"I've been seeing Tony for a while," Marie confessed.

"I think you should go and watch some TV," I told Leila, who took off bolting out of the room.

"You've been cheating on Dad?" Emmie asked, sitting on the bed.

Marie looked like she had seen the ghost that my daughter was convinced she had seen.

"Look, Emmie," Marie said. "Dad and I have been having issues for a while now."

"So he knows about this?" my wife asked, demanding answers from her mother.

"No, darling," she said. "Dad doesn't know. I don't think I could tell him anyway. But I'm not getting any younger, and I need some joy for whatever is left in my life."

Emmie held her head in her hands.

"I need you to promise me that you won't tell Dad," Marie said.

My wife gasped and walked out of the bedroom.

"Duncan," Marie told me. "You've got to talk to her. This has to be a secret. We cannot tell my husband."

"That's up to Emmie," I replied. "I don't know what else to tell you."

Shortly after that, Marie and Tony left our home.

"I can't believe my mother," Emmie said when we sat down and spoke about the afternoon's events.

"Look, at least you found out now," I said. "It's not a secret anymore."

"Yes, but at the same time, I don't know how I can keep this from my father. But more than that, I don't understand why my mother had to bring him over to our home."

I had to agree with her—Marie was an adult who was free to do whatever she wanted. But at the same time, I couldn't fathom why she would do it in our home.

When she was supposed to be looking after our daughter, too.

It was careless and irresponsible.

"I thought he was there for you," I blurted out.

Emmie put her mug down on the coffee table.

"That's a much bigger conversation," she said. "But I get it. It would have been quite the shock to see a random old man in our closet."

It turned out that Tony was about to leave when Emmie got home, so he had hid in our room. And then, when he thought that the coast was clear—Leila and I had walked in.

So, he hid in the closet until he could escape. Marie, on the other hand, thought that Tony had left. And stayed in the guest room to rest.

"It's just a mess, Duncan," Emmie said. "I don't know if I can lie to my father."

"Then don't," I said. "I'm not happy that Leila was exposed to this."

I knew that the secret would eat away at her. My wife struggled to keep things a surprise—a secret like this would send her spiraling.

"I don't want to hurt my mom," she said later, after we tucked Leila in bed.

"Sleep on it," I said.

That night, as I lay in bed, I wondered what would have happened if I didn't come early. Would Leila have seen Tony again and gotten even more afraid? The thought of a random man wandering in my home after hours made me uncomfortable. Especially because Emmie didn't know about it either.

I don't know what's going to happen next, but I know that my role is just to support Emmie in whatever she decides.

What would you do?

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My Rich Husband Forbade Me from Entering One Room in Our House – I Could Not Stop Crying When I Saw What He Was Hiding

When Alexis' parents forced her to marry Robert, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Later, Alexis broke the one rule her husband gave her and entered the room he warned her about, unleashing secrets she wasn't prepared for.

I couldn't understand why my parents wanted me to get married before I found someone myself.

"Alexis," my mother said, "Robert is a catch. He's a wealthy man who will take care of you. You wouldn't even have to work."

I couldn't refuse. My father had made it clear.

"You marry Robert, Alexis," he said, puffing on his cigar. "Or you can figure out your own living arrangements."

In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu.

"We will continue to bake what we know," my father insisted.

Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert's demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don't know how my father arranged our connection.

Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert's affluence, nothing short of extravagant. Robert's wedding planner had thought of everything.

My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke.

"I'm looking forward to being married," he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding.

"But I don't know what I'm doing," he added.

That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in.

Two days after our wedding, I moved into our new home.

"Come, I'll show you around," Robert said.

He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I'd never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call.

"It's beautiful," I said when we got to the kitchen. "Everything is beautiful."

"Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too," he declared with a hint of pride.

I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage.

"But one thing, Alexis," he said. "There's one rule. The attic. Never go in there."

I nodded at Robert. I couldn't fathom why I wouldn't be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn't know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey.

A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home.

"How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?"

Robert's face turned red with rage.

"I just want to understand," I stammered. "I just want to know you, Robert."

Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be.

"Alexis," he said, "Come, let's sit."

Robert led me to the living room.

"My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved," he confessed.

My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke.

What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father's approval, unfolded in our home.

Want to know what happens next? Read the full story here.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.