My Husband’s Lover Came to Me for a Massage, Not Knowing I’m His Wife

You never think it’ll happen to you. I thought my husband and I had built a life that no one could touch. But then a young, beautiful woman walked into my massage studio and started talking about her life. What she said left me speechless, but my response left her paralyzed.

I never imagined that a routine appointment at my massage studio would unravel my entire marriage. The woman on my table that day had no idea who I was, and by the time she realized the truth, it was too late.

A young woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A young woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

If you asked anyone to describe me, they’d probably say I’m the typical hardworking mom. My life revolves around my two boys, Ethan and Leo.

At 10 and 8 years old, they’re at that stage where they want to be independent but still need their mom for everything. And honestly, I love being there for them. The morning rush to get them ready for school, the endless soccer practices, and those quiet moments at bedtime when they tell me about their day motivates me to keep going.

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

But my life isn’t all about the kids.

Five years ago, I opened my own massage studio, and it quickly became my second home. There’s something incredibly fulfilling about helping people relax.

It’s my passion, and I’ve poured my heart and soul into that place.

A masseuse massaging someone's hand | Source: Pexels

A masseuse massaging someone’s hand | Source: Pexels

Then there’s Henry, my husband of 12 years.

I met him when I was a young, vibrant woman, full of dreams and energy. Back then, I’d dress up for him, wear makeup, and make sure my hair was perfect. And he loved it.

We were inseparable. Henry always found a way to make me laugh and I continued believing we’d be happy forever. But life doesn’t stay the same.

A woman sitting near a window | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting near a window | Source: Midjourney

Over the years, I’ve become more practical.

I don’t spend hours on my hair or makeup anymore. I wear comfortable clothes and don’t spend money on fancy stuff because I believe I’d rather invest my time and money in my kids.

Henry never complained about it, but sometimes I wondered if he noticed.

It wasn’t that our marriage was bad. Henry still did his part. He was a present father, always at the boys’ games and school events. He fixed things around the house and never missed a birthday or anniversary.

I thought we were solid.

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

But over the past year, something felt… off. Henry started working late more often. At first, I didn’t question it. He’s a lawyer, and I assumed he was putting in extra hours to give us a comfortable life.

Still, there were moments that gnawed at me.

He’d get home late and head straight for the shower without saying much. Sometimes, he’d sit with us for dinner, but his mind seemed elsewhere.

I chalked it up to stress. After all, I was busy too. Running a business and raising kids wasn’t easy.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

But deep down, a part of me knew something had changed. We weren’t the same couple we used to be.

I figured it was just part of being married for over a decade. You know, life gets busy, romance takes a backseat, and you fall into routines.

What I didn’t know was that my husband’s routine included someone else.

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning when Emily walked into my massage studio. She looked exactly like the kind of woman who turned heads without even trying.

A woman walking on a wooden floor | Source: Pexels

A woman walking on a wooden floor | Source: Pexels

Everything about her screamed luxury. The way her sleek hair cascaded over her shoulders, the designer bag she casually set down on the chair, and her expensive perfume that filled the room.

“Hi, I’m Emily. I have a 10 a.m. appointment,” she said with a friendly smile.

I returned the smile, though something about her felt off. Maybe it was her confidence or the way she seemed so at ease as if she owned the place.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, so I brushed it off.

A woman standing in her massage studio | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her massage studio | Source: Midjourney

“Welcome, Emily. Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said, gesturing toward the massage room. “You can hang your things there and lie down on the table. I’ll be right with you.”

Once she settled in, I started my usual routine. The room was calm and serene, with soft music playing in the background. As I massaged her back, she let out a deep sigh.

“Finally,” she said, her voice muffled by the table’s headrest. “I’m going to relax.”

I chuckled. “Much stress?”

“Too much,” she groaned. “I really needed this.”

A woman lying on a massage table | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying on a massage table | Source: Midjourney

I kept my tone light and conversational. “Work stress?”

“Relationship stress,” she corrected. “My boyfriend is… complicated.”

I stayed silent, letting her talk if she wanted to. Some clients like to open up during their sessions, and I’ve learned that listening can be just as therapeutic as the massage itself.

Emily sighed again. “He’s in the process of a divorce, and it’s been messy. I don’t know why he hasn’t just finalized it already. His wife is such a drag.”

A back-view shot of a man | Source: Midjourney

A back-view shot of a man | Source: Midjourney

I felt a pang of sympathy. Divorce is never easy, especially when kids are involved. Still, something about the way she said “drag” didn’t sit right with me.

“I guess that’s always hard,” I said carefully. “Especially with kids in the picture.”

“Oh, they’re not my problem,” she said dismissively.

My hands froze for a split second before I forced myself to keep going. I was horrified. How could someone be so heartless?

But I reminded myself not to judge. I didn’t know the whole story.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know how his wife does it,” Emily continued. “She just works, looks after the kids, cooks, cleans… No wonder he’s leaving her. She’s boring. No makeup, no effort. Just a mom. And of course, he’ll get the house. It’s his. The kids can stay with her. I don’t want to raise someone else’s brats.”

Her words stung, though I wasn’t sure why. It was like she was describing me. I shook the thought away.

Pure coincidence, I told myself.

Emily’s phone suddenly buzzed on the side table. I glanced at it, and my heart nearly stopped.

A phone on a table | Source: Pexels

A phone on a table | Source: Pexels

The screen lit up with a picture of her and… Henry.

My husband. My Henry. Smiling with her. Holding her.

My heart pounded faster as I processed what I was seeing. My mind raced, replaying everything Emily had just said.

“Oh, I’ll answer later,” Emily said casually, reaching to silence the phone.

“No, dear,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm. “Please, answer it.”

A woman in her massage studio | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her massage studio | Source: Midjourney

She blinked, surprised by my tone. “What?”

I stepped back and crossed my arms. “It’s my husband—your boyfriend dreaming of divorcing me—calling you. Go ahead.”

For a moment, there was dead silence. Then she screamed, “What the hell did you do?! I CAN’T MOVE!”

I watched as Emily struggled to lift her head, her arms trembling as she tried to push herself off the massage table. But her body refused to cooperate.

For a moment, I panicked. Did I seriously paralyze her? But then I realized what had happened.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

I must’ve pressed on a nerve in her neck. It was something I’d seen before in my practice. Temporary paralysis, usually gone in a few minutes.

Still, I wasn’t about to waste this opportunity.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “It’ll pass in a bit. Meanwhile, let’s have a chat.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You did this on purpose!”

I shrugged. “Prove it.”

Emily tried to wiggle her fingers, but they barely twitched. She huffed in frustration, glaring at me like a trapped animal.

“You’re insane!” she hissed.

An angry woman lying on a massage table | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman lying on a massage table | Source: Midjourney

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a woman who’s tired of being lied to.” I pulled over a chair and sat down calmly. “Now, about that house… You think it’s Henry’s?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line.

“Yeah, it’s not,” I continued. “It’s in my name. The kids? They’re staying with me. And guess what? Courts tend to favor the spouse who wasn’t sneaking around.”

“You’re bluffing,” she spat. “Henry said—”

“Henry said a lot of things, didn’t he?” I leaned forward. “Did he mention that I’ve supported him through job changes, sleepless nights with our kids, and years of marriage? Or did he just paint me as some boring wife?”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

Emily’s nostrils flared. “He loves me.”

“Does he?” I laughed. “Or does he love the idea of you? The fun, carefree fling who doesn’t remind him of his responsibilities?”

Her phone buzzed again. This time, I picked it up and held it out for her to see.

“Would you like me to answer? Should I tell him you’re… indisposed?”

Emily’s expression shifted from anger to fear. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I dare.” I smirked. “But first, let me take a little souvenir.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

I opened her phone and found a string of messages between her and Henry.

Sweet nothings. Promises of a future together. And a few photos that made my stomach turn.

I snapped pictures with my phone, making sure I had enough evidence to make my point clear. Then I locked her phone and set it back down.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Because you need to know what’s coming.” I stood up and leaned over her. “When you can move again, feel free to let Henry know I’ll be calling my lawyer today.”

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels

“You won’t win,” she muttered. “Henry won’t let you take everything.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, he’ll have no choice. I’ve got proof now. And when the courts see what he’s been up to, he’ll be lucky if he walks away with his clothes.”

Emily finally managed to lift her head. Her arms were still weak, but she was starting to regain movement.

“Don’t worry,” I said with a smile. “You’ll be fine in a few minutes. But your relationship with Henry? That’s done.”

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

She glared at me as she swung her legs off the table, struggling to stand.

“You think you’ve won?” she raised an eyebrow. “He’ll come crawling back to me.”

“If you say so,” I laughed.

She grabbed her bag and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I took a deep breath, letting the tension leave my body.

But I wasn’t done yet.

That evening, I waited for Henry to come home. He walked through the door like nothing had happened, kissed me on the cheek, and sat down at the dinner table.

A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney

“Henry,” I said, setting my phone on the table between us. “We need to talk.”

His eyes flickered to the phone, and I could see the color drain from his face.

“I know everything,” I said quietly. “The texts. The calls. Your little plan to divorce me.”

He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to stop him.

“No excuses, Henry,” I said. “You want a divorce? You’ll get one. But you’re leaving with nothing. The house is mine. The kids stay with me. And if you try to fight me, I’ve got plenty of evidence to bury you in court.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

His face paled, and he slumped in his chair. “Sophia…”

I leaned in, my voice steady. “You should’ve thought about this before you lied to me. Now? You’re on your own.”

The next day, I filed for divorce.

Soon, Henry moved out, and Emily realized he couldn’t give her the life she wanted.

To be honest, leaving my husband wasn’t easy. But after thinking about what he’d been doing behind my back, I knew I had no other option.

I left Henry and promised to never look back again. Not even on days when I felt lonely.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: When Brooke returns home from a weeklong work trip, she’s eager to unwind with her favorite snack. But her peanut butter jar is mysteriously half-empty. Her husband, Aaron, is allergic, so who ate it? Determined to uncover the truth, Brooke turns to their security cameras and discovers a shocking secret: Aaron had been hiding a guest. What starts as suspicion unravels into an emotional journey neither of them expected.

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 Found a Lace Robe Hidden in My Husband’s Closet – Then I Saw My Stepmother Wearing It

When Calla finds a lace robe hidden in her husband’s closet, she assumes that it’s a romantic surprise. But her world turns upside down when she sees her stepmother, Lorraine, wearing it. Suspicion mounts and tensions spiral as Calla overhears Lorraine’s true scheme…

When my dad passed away last year, it felt like the house lost its soul. He’d built that place himself, a sprawling two-story home that always smelled like pine and fresh paint.

After his death, my husband, Jason, our six-year-old daughter, Emma, and I moved in to help my stepmother, Lorraine.

A couple packing | Source: Midjourney

A couple packing | Source: Midjourney

She and my dad had been married for five years, but Lorraine made sure that everyone knew she’d been his “rock” during his final days.

“You can’t deny it, darling,” she said to me after her speech at the funeral. “Seriously, Calla, if I went on my holiday to Thailand, your father would have died by himself. All alone. Poor thing.”

Living with her, though, was like walking on a tightrope. Everything about Lorraine was sharp—her stilettos, her words, even the way she eyed Jason when she thought I wasn’t looking.

An older woman in a black dress | Source: Midjourney

An older woman in a black dress | Source: Midjourney

But family is family, and I tried to make it work.

Until I found the robe.

It started innocently enough. I was folding Jason’s laundry, something I did a thousand times without a second thought. As I opened his closet to hang up a shirt, I noticed something out of place.

There it was, a small glossy gift bag shoved into the corner, partly hidden beneath his jackets.

A glossy gift bag | Source: Midjourney

A glossy gift bag | Source: Midjourney

Curiosity got the better of me. I pulled it out, my pulse quickening when I saw what was inside: a lace robe, sheer and intimate.

My first thought was that Jason had bought it for me. Christmas was around the corner, and while he wasn’t exactly the romantic type, maybe this was his way of surprising me.

I smiled at the idea of him stepping out of his comfort zone.

A lace robe on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

A lace robe on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

If only that had been the truth.

A few days later, Lorraine called me into her room. Her voice was syrupy sweet, the kind of tone that always set me on edge. She had changed the room since my father passed. It was now a maroon, velvety… something. Luxurious yet somehow seductive… I couldn’t quite find the words to describe it.

“Oh, Calla, sweetheart,” she cooed. “You won’t believe what my new boyfriend got me!”

A maroon bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A maroon bedroom | Source: Midjourney

New boyfriend? Lorraine hadn’t mentioned anyone else before.

When I walked in, my stomach dropped.

There she was, draped in the robe, my robe. The one I’d found in Jason’s closet. She twirled, the lace floating around her like some cruel joke.

“You like it?” she purred, smirking at my expression. “He has exquisite taste, don’t you think? And I have a pair of heels that would make it look magical.”

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t breathe. My mind raced, piecing together a picture I didn’t want to see.

Was Jason…? No. He wouldn’t. Lorraine?

No. Never. Unless… Would he?

“Where… where did you get that?” I managed to stammer.

Lorraine’s smirk deepened.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, my boyfriend gave it to me,” she said. “I just told you, Calla! You’re not listening to a word I say, sweetheart! Don’t you worry, maybe you’ll get one too… Anyway, he’s discreet.”

My knees felt weak. Look, there could have been a logical explanation. But something felt so wrong. I stumbled out of her room, her laughter echoing behind me.

That night, I cornered Jason after reading with Emma. She had gone to sleep quickly, ready for her “Dress as your favorite character” day at school. She was going as Princess Belle.

A mom and daughter reading a book | Source: Midjourney

A mom and daughter reading a book | Source: Midjourney

My heart was pounding, my hands shaking.

“Jason,” I began, my voice trembling. “I need to ask you something, and I want the truth.”

He looked up from the TV, confused.

“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked. “Hang on, let me pause this movie.”

A man lounging on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A man lounging on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Did you… Did you give Lorraine a robe? The lace one I found in your closet?”

Jason’s face twisted in disbelief.

“What? No way! What are you talking about?”

“She showed me a robe before dinner tonight,” I said, tears threatening to spill. “The same one I found in your closet.”

A shocked young man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked young man | Source: Midjourney

Jason’s jaw dropped.

“You think I’d buy her something like that? Are you serious right now?”

“Then how did she get it?” I demanded.

“I don’t know,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know what to say,” I said.

His frustration seemed genuine, but doubt gnawed at me.

“I swear, I didn’t give her anything! Seriously, Calla. The only thing I’ve given Lorraine today was a piece of garlic bread at dinner.”

Over the next few days, I couldn’t shake the unease. Lorraine’s smug looks, Jason’s denial—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t solve.

A plate of garlic bread | Source: Midjourney

A plate of garlic bread | Source: Midjourney

Then, one afternoon, as I organized Emma’s art supplies in the dining room, I heard Lorraine on the phone.

“Yes, Kerry, of course, I planted it,” she whispered. “That idiot husband of hers didn’t even notice. It’s only a matter of time before they’re at each other’s throats. Once they leave, this house will finally be mine. I’m telling you, that’s why they moved in. They want my house.”

My blood ran cold. She planned this. She had planned this!

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

She’d planted the robe in Jason’s closet to make it look like they were having an affair. All to drive us out of the house my dad had left behind.

That night, I told Jason everything I’d overheard. His face darkened with anger, and he crunched his beer can in his fist, spilling the final contents.

“She’s trying to ruin our marriage,” he said, his voice tight. “And to think that we uprooted Emma for this? This ends now.”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

We hatched a plan.

The next morning, over coffee and bagels, I casually mentioned to Lorraine that Jason and I were considering moving out. Her face lit up, though she tried to hide it behind a thin veil of concern.

“Oh, well, if you think that’s best…” she said, barely containing her glee.

That evening, Jason and I invited a lawyer friend over for dinner, someone Lorraine didn’t recognize. We told her he was a “realtor” helping us look for new homes, but honestly, we just wanted to figure out where we stood. Lorraine spent most of the dinner talking about how much she preferred to live alone.

Bagels on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Bagels on a counter | Source: Midjourney

“I’m old now,” she said, as if she were trying to convince herself. “I need my space. And I’m sure you kids need yours. Don’t you want to give Emma a baby brother or sister?”

I wasn’t sure that I wanted the house, but Jason had persuaded me to fight.

“Come on, honey,” he said. “It’s important for you to have a piece of your father’s legacy. You are his legacy, yes. But he built this with his hands. This home has been around since you were a child. You want Lorraine to have it, really?”

An older woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

An older woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know,” I said. “Honestly, I’m not sure what I want.”

A week later, we called a “family meeting” in the living room. Lorraine sauntered in, confident and smug, as if she’d already won.

Jason handed her a stack of papers.

“What’s this?” she asked, flipping through the pages.

A pile of paper on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

A pile of paper on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

“It’s the deed to the house,” Jason said calmly. “We had it reviewed, and it turns out that Calla and I are the primary beneficiaries. You don’t own this house, Lorraine. We do.”

Her face went pale.

“That’s not possible. Calla! What did you do? Your father would never leave me with nothing…”

“He didn’t leave you with nothing, Lorraine,” I said. “He left you with a lot of money. But this is my childhood home. Of course, he’d want me to have it.”

A shocked older woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked older woman | Source: Midjourney

Lorraine started to protest, but Jason cut her off.

“And before you think about pulling another stunt, know this: we’re not going anywhere. But you might want to start packing.”

“Or you can see if your boyfriend will take you in?” I said nonchalantly.

Lorraine stammered, her sharp tongue suddenly useless.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

“What? There’s no boyfriend?” I asked.

“I planned that! I staged the entire thing! There is no boyfriend, Calla. There is no cheating, which is what I wanted you to think. I wanted you to see the robe and know that… or think that something was going on.”

“I know,” I said. “I overheard you. But look, you have a week. I’ll give you that because it’s what my father would expect from me.”

“I’ll be better. I’ll do everything—the cooking, the cleaning, homework with Emma, you name it!” she begged.

An older woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney

An older woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t want my child around you,” I said simply. “I’m sorry, but that’s just how I feel.”

Within a week, Lorraine was gone. And I finally had peace in the home my dad had loved so much. I turned Lorraine’s bedroom into a reading room for myself, and half of it a playroom for Emma.

And that robe?

Lorraine had conveniently left it behind. I donated it to charity with the rest of the things she’d abandoned. Let someone else enjoy it because I sure as hell wasn’t keeping it.

A cozy reading room | Source: Midjourney

A cozy reading room | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

I Suspected My Husband Was Cheating on Me and Followed Him One Day

When Lily and Jason’s son, Nathan, brings his fiancée home for the long weekend, Lily is excited to get to know the young woman. But during that weekend, she notices her husband acting strange. So, she tries to uncover what is going on with Jason — only to open a can of worms with secrets wriggling everywhere.

From the moment Nathan introduced us to his fiancée, I knew something was off.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t sweet or lovely, because she was. Her name was Tessa, and she’d come to Chicago with Nathan from his college in Michigan to spend a long weekend with us and meet the family.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

My son and his new beau had been dating for over a year, and she’d just been a name until now. Now that she was here, I could see why my son was head-over-heels. Tessa was sharp, funny, and kind in a genuine way.

Within minutes, my eight-year-old daughter, Sophie, was practically glued to her side.

But my husband, Jason, was different that night. Usually, he’s animated and easygoing, especially around Nathan and his friends. But when Tessa was around, he was quiet, almost as if he were retreating into himself.

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

It was strange. Very strange.

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.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*