My husband always praises and compliments his sister-in-law like she is the most perfect human being. Even when she is not around, he talks about her. It makes me feel awful compared to her. One day, I taught him a lesson that nearly made him cry.
My husband, Jerry, and I have been married for almost four years. We have two beautiful children, and while our lives have been busy and chaotic, we’ve managed to keep our relationship strong.
Parents with their two kids outdoors | Source: FreePik
Besides the occasional arguments, there is one thing Jerry does that annoys me. I don’t know if my husband does this on purpose or if just has a low EQ, but he knows that it bothers me yet he still does it.
A woman annoyed at a man | Source: Pexels
He thinks the sun shines out of his sister-in-law’s bottom. He sees her as a goddess, the embodiment of perfection. Nothing she says or does is wrong. Whenever we visit her, Jerry talks about her for three to four days afterward like he is in a trance. He compliments LITERALLY EVERYTHING she does.
One would think he was cheating, but I am sure he is not. They don’t even talk besides the times we all get together. Is he in love with her? I have no idea, but he is definitely insensitive towards my feelings.
A man in admiration | Source: FreePik
His sister-in-law, Grace, is married to Jerry’s brother, Martin. She’s always been the picture-perfect homemaker: three kids, an immaculate house, homemade meals. She somehow always looks put together. She makes motherhood seem so easy.
I’ve always admired her but never felt the need to compete. However, Jerry’s constant praise of her started to wear me down. One of our recent visits got the best of me, so I decided to give my husband a taste of his own medicine.
A woman annoyed | Source: FreePik
We visited last weekend to see their new baby. I swear he was paying more attention to her and the baby than he ever did to me or any of our children. He complimented everything about her, from how she looked to how clean the house was to the delicious food.
A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels
“Wow, Grace! No one would ever think you had just given birth. You look incredible!” he said as we entered their home.
He even praised how she made the bread and how she managed to recall our favorite dishes and desserts. “You are a superwoman,” he said. “Definitely limited edition.” I literally had it with him and said “enough” a couple of times, but he just ignored me. Meanwhile, Grace just giggled and welcomed the compliments.
A woman baking | Source: Pexels
At one point, she noticed that I was no longer comfortable with Jerry’s admiration. She would try to instead compliment me, but it was like my husband heard nothing.
Even when we arrived home, the praising continued. “Honey, isn’t it amazing how Grace can manage three kids and keep their home so neat and clean? What does that woman take?!” I tried to change the topic several times and even showed him I was annoyed. Still, Jerry kept going on as if he couldn’t take a hint.
A man talking to a woman | Source: FreePik
I had enough. So, yesterday, when we went to his sister-in-law’s again, I decided to turn the tables. As soon as we arrived, I started laying it on thick. We had a barbecue on their patio and Martin was behind the grilling. “Isn’t Martin amazing?” I said to Jerry’s sister-in-law. “He helps out so much and hasn’t succumbed to the dad bod yet. How incredible.”
A woman smiling at a man | Source: FreePik
My husband looked at me, startled, while his sister-in-law’s eyes widened. But I wasn’t done. “He is so fit in his 40s!” True enough, Martin was in shape and regularly went to the gym. He also watched what he ate.
I continued, ignoring the increasingly tense atmosphere. As we were about to go home, I noticed their new patio decor and added it to my list of compliments. “Did you build those, Martin?” I asked. “Wow, you have golden hands. Jerry can’t even screw in a light bulb,” I quipped.
Home patio decor | Source: Pexels
My brother-in-law, Martin, looked content receiving the compliments, smiling modestly. But his wife, Grace, and my husband, Jerry, visibly looked awkward. Jerry’s face turned red, and he started fidgeting.
When I mentioned how great Martin’s hair was, Jerry, who had hair problems and was slowly becoming bald, suddenly ran to our car.
An upset man | Source: FreePik
I excused myself and went after him. I found him in our car, nearly crying. “Okay, I got it,” he said. “My brother is better than me in everything, so why did you marry me then?”
Jerry went on to say that he has always been compared to his brother. However, hearing it from me made it sting even more. He went on to accuse me of being in love with his brother, and I just laughed.
A couple fighting in the car | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath and replied calmly, “I just did the same thing you’ve been doing to me for the last few years.”
“What do you mean?” he replied.
“I mean, you always praise Grace in front of my face. You’re so obsessed with that you talk about her even when we’re no longer in their home. You make her seem like a God! Maybe YOU are in love with her!”
A couple fighting in the car | Source: Pexels
He was silent for a moment, then drove home suddenly. He was quiet for the rest of the evening and slept much earlier than usual.
A man in tears | Source: Pexels
The next morning, he came to me with flowers and an apology. “I’m so sorry, Penelope,” he began. “I appreciated Grace’s housekeeping skills because it was hard for me to manage work and house chores. I wasn’t complimenting her in comparison to you. I was complimenting her in comparison to ME.”
A man holding a bouquet of roses | Source: FreePik
He added, “I have been feeling like a lousy husband when it comes to household work, and I just wish I could be more like her. But I hadn’t realized how my words affected you. I promise to become a better husband and pay you more attention.”
I looked at him, holding the bouquet, his eyes filled with remorse and tears about to fall. Part of me wanted to believe him, to forgive and move on. But another part of me was still hurt, still stinging from the months of feeling second best.
A thinking woman | Source: FreePik
The next few weeks were a mixture of cautious hope and lingering doubt. Jerry started making small changes. He was helping more around the house, planning surprise date nights, and most importantly, expressing genuine appreciation for everything I did.
Maybe everything he said was true, but the fact that my husband felt that way meant I did something or didn’t do something. Was I lacking in making him feel appreciated? Was he just that insensitive to my feelings?
Unlike Jerry, another husband has been making his wife feel wonderful. At 50, he began to change into the man he was when she fell in love.
My Husband Turned 50 and He Suddenly Became the Man I Married
My husband, Chris, and I have been married for over twenty years. He has always been a good man and a wonderful father to our kids. In the early days, he was incredibly affectionate, and couldn’t keep his hands off me. We had this electric chemistry that I thought would never fade.
A couple enjoying time on the internet | Source: Pexels
But, after the kids came along, things started to change. The affection, the romance, and even the playful flirting that we once had, all began to fade away. It got to the point where I felt like we were just roommates. I read about couples losing intimacy and romance after having children, but I didn’t think it would happen to me.
A woman on her laptop and her family sleeping on the bed | Source: Pexels
Then, two months ago, something completely unexpected happened. Out of the blue, Chris asked me if I wanted to go away for the weekend, just the two of us. It was such a shock that I almost didn’t believe it at first. We hadn’t done something like that in years. But I agreed, hoping it would rekindle some of what we had lost.
A couple sitting by the beach | Source: Pexels
When we got back home, his new attitude continued. He started losing weight and getting more toned. He looked better than he did when we got married, and I found it difficult to keep my hands off him. I couldn’t help but wonder what had caused this sudden transformation.
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.
I Heard a Woman on the Radio Dedicating a Love Song to My Husband — A Week Later, I Was the One Calling the Station
I froze when I tuned into the local radio livestream. A woman requested a special love song for my husband, dedicating it to their first anniversary. A week later, I called the same station, but for a reason my husband could never have imagined.
So, it was one of those nights where everything just felt heavy. It was pouring rain. My nerves were shot, and I just wanted to be home with a cup of chamomile tea.
As I was fiddling with the radio, trying to find something to drown out my thoughts, I stumbled upon our local DJ, Max. His goofy banter was a bit of a comfort. Then, as one of my favorite songs, “One Love,” ended, Max announced a new caller…
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Alright folks, up next is Jessie! Who are you dedicating this song to, sweetheart?”
Jessie giggled. “Hi Max! This one goes out to the most amazing man I’ve ever met, my Ori-bear. We’ve been together a whole year now, and I can’t believe how lucky I am!”
I couldn’t help but smile. I was in love too. But then she said:
“He might get embarrassed, but everyone calls him Mr. Lamber. This song goes out to you, Oric. ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ is exactly how you make me feel!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
My heart stopped. Oric? That’s my husband’s name, and it’s pretty unique. The odds of another Oric alias Mr. Lamber seemed impossible. My stomach turned.
I pulled over, my hands shaking. “Oh my God… is he… is he having an affair?” I whispered, hoping the universe had played some kind of twisted joke on me.
But deep down, I knew. The song, the name, it all clicked into place. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sat there, the DJ’s voice and the song’s cheesy lyrics stabbing at my heart.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay
Memories flooded back: Oric’s late nights at the office, the missed dinners, the faint scent of unfamiliar perfume. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was just sit there, numb.
Then my phone buzzed. It was Oric: “Sorry, hon! I’ll be late tonight. Have some important work! XOXO.”
Important work. Yeah, right. I knew exactly what “important work” Oric would be attending to tonight.
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He wasn’t going to get away with this. If this little radio charade was indeed proof of his infidelity, I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The rest of the night was a blur.
I tried to eat, but my stomach wouldn’t let me. I just sat there on the bed, staring at my phone, waiting for a sign that this was all some huge misunderstanding.
At 3:45 AM, I heard his car. I pretended to sleep as he quietly came into the room. I wanted to confront him, to scream, but I held back. I needed to be sure.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Morning arrived, and so did my suspicion. I called in sick, a flimsy excuse of a headache escaping my lips.
“Ah, darling, I want a break! Thought we could take a long drive,” I turned to Oric. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape. My eyes were drilling into his, looking for hints. Any guesses about what he said?
“Actually, Suzanna,” Oric stammered, “I have a crucial client meeting this morning. Big deal, you know!” He offered a sheepish apology, suggesting a shopping spree with friends as an alternative.
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As he rummaged for his keys, I swooped in, casually picking up his phone from the coffee table.
A flush crept up his neck as he lunged for it. I held it out of reach, amusement flickering in my eyes as I swiped the screen. “Changed the password, Oric?” I turned to him.
“It’s just work stuff, honey,” he offered, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “You wouldn’t be interested, trust me. Boring stuff, you know!”
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“Isn’t that what we promised?” I countered, my gaze unwavering. “No secrets, remember?”
A weak laugh escaped his lips. “Businessmen have to keep certain things confidential, sweetheart. You wouldn’t understand.”
I met his gaze, the smile fading from my face. “Oh, is that it, Oric? Businessmen? Or something else entirely?”
He avoided my eyes. Well, how could he muster the courage to face me?
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“I, uh, I’ll give you the password later,” he then mumbled, snatching his phone back.
Later? The word sent a cold dread spiraling down my spine. Later meant enough time to disappear… to erase any incriminating evidence.
Offering a smirk, I then started sorting laundry. That’s when I noticed something strange: a long, brunette hair clinging to Oric’s collar. I was blonde. A brunette hair on my husband’s shirt screamed a story I wasn’t quite prepared to hear.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oric!” I called, holding the offending strand aloft.
“What’s that, honey?” He came running.
“This,” I said, thrusting the hair under his nose. “Found it on your shirt. Care to explain?”
He took one glance, then shrugged dismissively. “Probably someone brushed against me on the bus last night.”
“The bus? Weren’t you taking the car?” I held his gaze.
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His eyes darted to the pristine black SUV parked outside. “Uh, yeah, but it broke down halfway. Took the bus to a mechanic, then he towed it.”
A lie tangled with another.
“Hold on, Oric,” I cut him off. “We both know that’s a lie. Spill it. Which mechanic did you actually take the car to?”
He avoided my gaze. Before I could unleash the full force of my anger, he mumbled something about being late. A hurried peck on the cheek, and he was out the door, briefcase clutched tightly.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The day stretched on, suspicion gnawing at my insides. No calls, no texts, just the burning ache of betrayal and a hollow feeling in my gut. Finally, at 6 p.m., a text arrived:
“Dinner with clients. Don’t wait up. XOXO .“
The once-endearing emojis now felt like a stinging slap.
The next morning, the bed was empty, a chilling absence where Oric’s warmth should have been. In its place, two missed calls and a voice message on my phone:
“Hey babe, just a quick heads-up. Short business trip with a client. Back in five days. Love you, miss you. Mwah!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Five days. Five days to stew in this agonizing uncertainty. But one thing was clear: this trip wasn’t about business. It was a desperate attempt to escape the truth, a truth I was determined to unearth.
“Five days,” I muttered, quickly ringing Oric. “We’ll see about that.”
All my calls went unanswered. I grabbed the car keys and the next thing I knew, I was outside Oric’s office building.
The receptionist, a woman with a nametag that read “Sarah,” offered a tight smile. “Can I help you?”
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“Hi Sarah, I’m Suzanna. Is my husband, Oric, in the office today? He mentioned a last-minute business trip, and I was hoping to get some details.” Her smile faltered and said:
“Uh, Mrs. Lamber, actually, Mr. Lamber hasn’t been in all week.”
My stomach lurched. A concerned frown creased Sarah’s brow. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” I lied through gritted teeth, rushing out of the lobby and to my car.
Where was he? Was he with her? My head pounded with a million questions, each one sharper than the last.
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Five days crawled by. Every unanswered text, every silent phone call, chipped away at the last vestiges of hope.
Then, one evening, the front door creaked open. Oric stood there, exhaustion etched on his face. He wore a casual outfit I’d never seen before.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbled, offering a tired smile. “Sorry about that. Last-minute deal. Had to stay with a client to finalize everything.” I crossed my arms, not believing a word.
“That’s quite a story, Oric. Especially since I visited your office and found out a little truth. Where were you exactly? Spill it.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear in his eyes. “You… you went to the office?”
“Just a little fact-finding mission, honey!” I said. “You wouldn’t believe the fun facts I learned.”
He started to stammer. “What are you talking about, babe? Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course, I do!” I echoed. “Oh, Oric, you have no idea what kind of surprise I have planned for you.” His eyes darted between me and the door. “Surprise?”
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“Oh yes,” I purred, pushing him playfully towards the bedroom. “Get ready, honey. You’re going to love it.”
He followed me, brow furrowed in confusion. But for the first time in days, a sliver of hope bloomed in my chest. The truth would come out, and tonight, the tables were finally about to turn.
“Just you wait,” I playfully whispered. “This surprise is going to be epic. You’re gonna love it, babe!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Minutes later, Oric emerged from the bedroom in a crisp blue suit.
He leaned in for a kiss, but I held him at bay. “Patience, honey,” I murmured. “The best things are worth waiting for.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion, but he followed me out to the car without further comment. As I pulled out of the driveway, a mischievous glint gleamed in my eyes.
“Let’s make a quick stop,” I announced, taking a detour towards his parents’ house.
Oric’s jaw dropped when he saw them waiting on the porch, smiles plastered on their faces.
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“Babe, what’s going on?” he exclaimed.
“Surprise!” his parents chorused, bustling towards the car.
My MIL squeezed into the back seat, beaming at me. “Suzanna, dear, this is wonderful! It’s been ages since we’ve all had dinner together. With Oric always so busy with work…”
I glanced at him, a pointed look in my eyes. “Yeah, right!” I said, my voice dripping with irony. “Mr. Lamber here is swamped these days.”
Oric let out a sheepish laugh, clearly bewildered by this sudden turn of events.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
As I drove to the restaurant, a glance at the dashboard clock confirmed it was showtime. I tuned the radio to the familiar station, DJ Max’s cheerful voice filling the car.
“Alright folks, welcome back! Up next is Emma, and she’s dedicating a song to the love of her life. And here we go! Enjoy the track, folks!” he chirped.
As the last notes of the love song faded away, the DJ prompted the next song’s dedication. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number for the radio station.
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As soon as a cheery voice answered, I blurted out, “Hi, this is Suzanna. I’d like to dedicate a song with a special message to my husband, Oric.”
“Whoa there, Suzanna,” the DJ boomed. “Sounds like there’s a story behind this special song dedication! Mind sharing it with our listeners?”
A flush crept up Oric’s neck.
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Taking another deep breath, I plunged into the story. I spoke of the betrayal, the shattered trust, the way I’d stumbled upon the truth, a truth that had left me reeling.
As I spoke, I stole a glance at Oric. The color had drained from his face, replaced by a sickly pallor. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, his gaze desperately pleading with me to stop but I continued:
“And there’s more. It seems Oric’s little secret wasn’t so secret after all. Thanks to his… ‘special friend’ who called in last week to dedicate a love song, his infidelity is out in the open. And let me tell you, Oric’s parents deserve to know exactly what kind of son they’ve raised!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The DJ fell silent for a moment. Then, a gentle sympathy seeped into his voice. “Suzanna, that’s a story that deserves to be heard. We can only imagine the pain you’re going through right now. Thanks for calling and here’s a song that might echo a little bit of what you’re feeling.”
As a heartbreaking ballad filled the airwaves, I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. I got out of the car and left Oric and his bewildered parents scrambling to keep up.
I settled at a familiar table by the window. This was the same table where we’d shared our first date, filled with hopes and dreams that now lay shattered on the floor.
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Without a word, I slipped off my wedding ring. Slamming it on the table, I met Oric’s pleading gaze. “Consider this my treat,” I finally declared, “for our upcoming divorce.”
The clatter of the ring on the table echoed in the sudden silence. Oric’s parents, mouths agape, stared between me and their son, their faces etched with dawning horror.
“Suzanna, honey, what’s going on?” Oric’s mother stammered. “What did Oric do?”
“Ask your beloved son who’s playing innocent,” I countered. “The radio said it all.”
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Oric, desperation etched on his face, reached for me. “Suzanna, please,” he pleaded. “Let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like.”
But the words rang hollow. The blind trust I’d placed in him, the years of love and devotion, all felt like a cruel joke as I said:
“There’s nothing left to explain. This marriage is over.”
His father, a stern-looking man with a salt-and-pepper beard, finally found his voice. “Oric,” he boomed, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Is this true? What Suzanna says? Were you having an extramarital affair?”
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Oric mumbled something incoherent, his gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal.
“Don’t lie to your father,” his mother snapped. “We deserve the truth.”
Shame finally flickered in Oric’s eyes. He hung his head, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. “There is someone else,” he finally confessed. “But it meant nothing. It was a mistake.”
“A mistake that destroyed our trust, our future,” I choked out. “You lied to me, Oric. For how long? How would you feel if I did this to you?”
He remained silent. But his damn silence wasn’t gonna fix things.
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“I can’t stay here,” I declared. “I need some air.”
With a final, withering glance at Oric, I pushed myself away from the table and walked out of the restaurant, the clatter of the wedding ring against the table echoing in my wake.
It broke my heart to do this, but tell me, was what he did right? Did I deserve to live a life of lies with a man who not only cheated on me but also wished to keep me in the dark all my life?
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Here’s another story about how a woman unraveled her husband’s secret when their daughter chirped about her new teacher, “Daddy has a picture of her!”
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.
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