When Gwen finds strands of red hair in her bed, and red lipstick stains on her husband’s work shirts, she immediately thinks that Ryan is cheating. Then, at his birthday dinner, everything gets revealed when Ryan brings a redhead to the party. Not wanting to let it slide, Gwen works on getting her revenge.
“Gwen, why do you look so stressed?” my friend Jessica asked, her voice laced with concern.
A stressed woman with her hand on her face | Source: Unsplash
We were at the grocery store, getting the final things I needed for the recipes I had been poring over. My husband’s birthday was tomorrow and we had a dinner planned at home.
I sighed, thinking of the small Ziploc bag in my handbag.
A woman opening her handbag | Source: Pexels
“I found this while making the bed,” I said to Jess. “Obviously, it’s not mine, and it sure as hell isn’t Ryan’s.”
I pulled out the bag. Inside was a long strand of bright red hair that I’d found in our bed.
Jessica’s eyes widened as she took the bag from me.
A woman with red hair | Source: Pexels
“Are you serious? That’s pretty damning. What did Ryan say about it? Is it not the nanny’s?” she asked.
“No, not Michelle. She has a pixie cut now because she’s going through a breakup. I haven’t confronted Ryan yet. I actually thought that it might be a fluke,” I admitted. “But then I remembered something else.”
A woman with short hair | Source: Unsplash
“What?” she asked, waving the bag around.
“The other day, I found red lipstick on the collar of his shirt. I was so tired that I didn’t even think about it. I just washed it out and carried on with the laundry. But after finding the hair, it’s all I can think about.”
Jessica’s face hardened.
A woman wearing red lipstick | Source: Pexels
“Gwen, you don’t even wear lipstick. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
I nodded slowly. There was no point in trying to lie to myself anymore.
“I think he’s cheating on me. Other than the hair and lipstick, Ryan has been staying late at work recently, and it all just adds up to one ugly puzzle,” I said.
The silhouette of a couple | Source: Midjourney
“What are you going to do about it?” she asked, picking up the red onions that I needed.
“Nothing for the moment. I know you’ll disagree, but Ryan’s birthday dinner is tomorrow and I don’t want to ruin it in case I’m wrong.”
A birthday cake | Source: Pexels
I knew that I wasn’t wrong. I knew what I felt in my gut, and that was because everything just felt wrong when I thought about my marriage.
Recently, Ryan and I hadn’t been as intimate as before. We didn’t do as many date nights or anything spontaneous. I figured that it was just life being life, and that we had gotten busy with our jobs.
We argued over everything.
A couple arguing | Source: Pexels
“We’re just in a rut,” I told myself when I was sweeping the house and thinking about it one day.
“Look,” Jess said. “I understand that you need to reevaluate it and look at everything, but you also need to know that you can’t let it go on indefinitely. You have two kids to worry about. So, think about them, too.”
A woman sweeping the floor | Source: Pexels
The next day, as I finished up the final touches on the platters of food, my nerves were on edge. The guests started arriving for the party, and Ryan got more excited every time the doorbell rang.
“This is going to be so great, honey!” he said, walking around the house, making sure that everyone had a drink.
People holding glasses of wine | Source: Unsplash
“Just call me if you need me,” I said. “I’m just going to get the canapés out.”
My husband smiled at me and nodded as he walked out.
I plastered a smile on my face, greeting everyone and giving them bites to eat.
A platter of canapés | Source: Midjourney
Then, Ryan walked in with her.
“Honey, this is Stacy,” Ryan said, gesturing to the red-haired woman beside him. His hand was around her waist, and she batted her eyelashes at him.
Stacy smiled brightly.
A woman with red hair and red lipstick | Source: Unsplash
“Hi, Gwen!” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
I forced a smile. Inside, I was seething. The resemblance to the hair and lipstick was unmistakable.
“Nice to meet you, Stacy,” I said, trying to keep my face expressionless. “Make yourself at home.”
An expressionless woman | Source: Pexels
Throughout the party, I kept up the charade, mingling with guests and keeping a close eye on Stacy and my husband.
Jessica caught my eye across the room and raised an eyebrow in question.
I nodded slightly, confirming her suspicions.
People mingling | Source: Pexels
Later, when Ryan was outside with the smokers, I approached Stacy.
“So, how do you like working with Ryan?” I asked.
Stacy beamed, her eyes lighting up.
“Oh, it’s great! He’s been such a help. And being the assistant to our boss, I get to spend a lot of time with him. I’m new to the whole thing; Jeff hired me on the fact that I needed to spend time away from the kids.”
A woman sitting at a desk | Source: Unsplash
I nearly choked on my drink.
“Wait, you’re Mr. Anderson’s assistant? And his wife?”
“Yes! It’s a small world, isn’t it?”
I smiled tightly.
A married couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
“Very small,” I said. “Please, come on and take a seat; dinner will be served now.”
I served dinner methodically, with Jessica hot on my heels. I knew that she wanted to know everything.
“Not now,” I said, giving her a platter of chicken wings. “Later, I promise.”
A platter of chicken wings | Source: Midjourney
The rest of the evening went off smoothly, except for the fact that Ryan and Stacy were openly flirting in front of us all.
The next morning, I went out to the hardware store and bought hidden cameras that I installed in our bedroom.
A hardware store | Source: Unsplash
During dinner, I lied to him.
“Ryan, I’m going to support Jess. Charles just left her, and she needs me there,” I lied. “I’ll be gone for a day or two. I’ll take the kids, too.”
Two young boys with skateboards | Source: Pexels
Ryan nodded absentmindedly, not even thinking about the fact that Jess and Charles were with us the previous night and were fine.
“Sure, take your time, honey,” he said, drinking his coffee.
A man holding a mug | Source: Unsplash
I took the kids to Jess’s, where we were going to spend the weekend.
“Two days without you and the kids,” Jess said, making me some tea. “Ryan will definitely do something wrong.”
“I know,” I agreed. “He wouldn’t be able to resist anything.”
A woman holding a teabag | Source: Pexels
When I returned, the first thing I did was review the footage. And my worst fears were confirmed, right there, on tape.
I contacted a lawyer and set up a meeting with Stacy’s husband.
A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels
“Mr. Anderson,” I said on the phone. “It’s Gwen, Ryan’s wife. I need to meet you urgently. In private.”
“What’s going on?” he asked, his confusion clear.
“I’d rather we discuss it in person,” I replied.
A woman using a laptop and holding a phone | Source: Pexels
“I’ll meet you in an hour,” he said.
I took my laptop to the coffee shop that we had agreed to meet at.
He was already seated, two coffees on the table and waiting.
A cup of coffee on a table | Source: Pexels
“Are you okay? Is Ryan okay? He’s one of my best employees,” he said.
“Let me show you something,” I said.
I played the footage of Ryan and Stacy together.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice strained. “Thank you for telling me.”
A shocked man covering his mouth | Source: Pexels
When I got home, I made dinner for my sons and waited for Ryan to come home. The moment he walked in, I confronted him with the divorce papers.
“Gwen, what’s this?” he asked, bewildered.
“I know about you and Stacy,” I said coldly. “I have proof.”
Ryan fell to his knees in the kitchen.
Divorce paperwork | Source: Pexels
“Please, Gwen, don’t tell Mr. Anderson. Don’t leave me. I’m sorry.”
“You brought another woman into our bed. I deserve better. So much better.”
In the end, Ryan lost everything in the divorce. He was fired from his job and found it difficult to find another job.
A man holding his head | Source: Pexels
“Please, take me back,” he said on the phone one evening when I was dishing out ice cream for the boys.
“I don’t want to,” I said. “I’m just done having anything to do with you.”
“I deserve a second chance,” he said. “The boys need their father.”
I left the phone on the kitchen counter and let Ryan vent away.
I didn’t care anymore.
Bowls of ice cream on a counter | Source: Midjourney
I Asked Homeless Man to Be My Pretend Fiancé Only to Discover He Was Part of My Mother’s Secret Past — Story of the Day
I was tired of my family’s endless questions about my love life, so I had a wild plan. I found and brought a homeless man as my pretend fiancé to the holiday dinner. Everything seemed perfect until my mother’s reaction revealed a shocking connection between them.
I sat in my car, staring at the park entrance, dreading the upcoming weekend with my family. Every holiday visit was the same: my mom’s subtle looks, my dad’s hopeful smiles, and the never-ending barrage of questions.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
When are you getting married? Have you met someone?
It was exhausting, and the thought of another round of it was more than I could handle.
Suddenly, my eyes fell on a man sitting alone on a bench, huddled in a tattered coat. He looked worn out like life had handed him more than his share of troubles. His sad eyes and the deep lines on his face still made him look like a handsome man. That’s when it hit me. Crazy idea!
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Could he be my fiancé for the weekend?” I muttered to myself.
It was insane, but it could work. Anything to keep my family off my back. I got out of the car and walked over to him. He looked up, and we stared at each other.
“Hey,” I started, feeling awkward. “I know this is going to sound strange, but… would you be willing to pretend to be my fiancé? Just for a weekend. In return, I can offer you a warm place to stay, new clothes, and a nice meal.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, he said nothing. His gaze lingered on mine as if he were trying to understand why someone like me would make such an offer. Then, to my surprise, he nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he said quietly.
I was shocked at how easily he agreed. No questions. No hesitation. That made me a little nervous. But at that point, I didn’t care.
“Great,” I said. “Let’s get you ready for the weekend.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
After we got back home, I handed the stranger some clothes that belonged to my ex. His things were still in my closet, and honestly, I couldn’t think of a better use for them.
“Here, these should fit you,” I said, offering a clean shirt and jeans. “You can take a shower if you’d like. I’ll make us some dinner.”
“Well, thanks,” he said with a small smile. “A shower sounds amazing.”
As he headed into the bathroom, I kept myself busy chopping vegetables and trying to ignore the nervousness building up inside me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Sharing my home with a stranger… Mia, what are you doing? You still don’t know his name!
When the stranger emerged from the bathroom, I heard the door creak and turned around. He stood there, a towel slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp, and to my surprise, he looked completely different.
“Well, that’s the best shower I’ve had in years,” he joked.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The awkwardness I’d felt earlier seemed to vanish in an instant.
“Glad to hear it. I hope the dinner will be just as good.”
He glanced at the table, eyeing the plates I’d set out. “Smells incredible. I am Christopher, by the way.” He smiled at me, sitting down at the table.
Feeling a bit shy, I only replied, “Mia.”
As we sat down to eat, he took the first bite and nodded. “It’s perfect. Haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a long time.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
We ate in comfortable silence for a bit, and then the conversation started flowing naturally.
“So,” I said, breaking the quiet. “Any favorite movies or books?”
He thought for a moment before answering. “I always loved old westerns. And books? Probably The Old Man and the Sea. Simple, but there’s something about it.”
“Really? Hemingway? I wouldn’t have guessed,” I said, a little surprised. “I thought you’d go for something darker.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
He chuckled. “You’re not wrong, but sometimes, simple stories hit the hardest.”
“I get that.”
We spent the rest of the evening talking about random topics that made us laugh. He had a dry sense of humor that caught me off guard, and by the end of dinner, I felt surprisingly comfortable around him.
Late in the evening, I went back into the kitchen to grab a glass of water before bed. I noticed the dishes had already been washed and stacked neatly by the sink.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Did you… do the dishes?” I asked Christopher, peeking around the corner.
“Seemed like the least I could do.”
I smiled, genuinely touched by the gesture. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“Good night, Christopher.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
The next day, everything moved quickly. We had one day left before the weekend with my family, and there was still so much to do.
First, we went to the hair salon. As the stylist worked, Christopher sat quietly, letting the transformation happen. I watched in amazement as his shaggy hair was trimmed into something neat and polished.
“This feels weird,” he muttered, looking at himself in the mirror.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Good weird or bad weird?” I teased.
“Definitely good,” he said with a smirk.
By the time we hit the shops to pick out new clothes, he was starting to look like a completely different person.
***
The holiday dinner started well enough. My parents were delighted to see Christopher, and I could almost feel my mother’s pride as she glanced at me, finally quieting her usual questions about my personal life.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Christopher played his part perfectly—polite, attentive, and even charming when he spoke. I began to relax, thinking that maybe my crazy plan had worked.
“Christopher, right?” my mother asked, smiling brightly. “You look so familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before? On TV, maybe?”
She laughed lightly as if she had just made a harmless joke.
Christopher politely shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Maybe I just have one of those faces.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
My father chuckled, clearly amused by my mother’s playful banter. “Well, if you’re on TV, I’ll have to start watching more closely.”
“So, Christopher,” Mom continued, “what did you do before you met Mia? Business, right?”
Christopher paused, glancing at my mother a bit too long before answering.
“Yes, business,” he said quietly, but there was something in his tone that felt different. “But everything changed for me about five years ago.”
My heart skipped a beat.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Wait… This isn’t part of the plan.
I shot him a quick look, hoping he’d catch on, but he continued. “There was an accident. A car accident. It… changed my life completely.”
This definitely isn’t something we talked about.
My mother’s face went pale, her fingers clenched the tablecloth, knuckles turning white. Her expression darkened as if she had just pieced something together.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“A car accident?” she echoed. Her words had sucked the warmth out of the room. “That’s… unfortunate.”
My father glanced at her. “Olivia, are you okay?”
But she wasn’t listening to him. “Not everyone walks away from accidents unscathed, do they?”
Christopher didn’t flinch, quietly sipping his wine.
“He’s not the kind of man you need,” Mom said bluntly, her voice trembling with anger.
I was taken aback. My father’s eyes widened in shock, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Christopher calmly set his glass down. “Excuse me. I’ll step outside for a moment.”
As he left, I turned to my mother. “What was that about? He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“There’s something you need to know, Mia. Five years ago, I was in a car accident,” she began, her voice lowering as though she were afraid someone else might hear.
“It was late at night, outside the city. There were no witnesses. The man I hit… was Christopher.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
My heart dropped. “What?”
“Your Christopher,” she said bitterly, “was under the influence that night. I demanded he get tested, but he refused. No one saw what happened, so I chose not to take him to court. But Mia, you need to understand… He’s dangerous. You can’t trust him.”
Christopher? Under the influence?
Finally, I broke the silence. “I need to talk to him.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
Christopher was leaning against the fence, staring off into the night. His expression was calm, but I could see the sadness in his eyes.
“Christopher,” I called softly.
He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “My last name is Hartman. Yes, I was in that accident. I was on sedatives that night—prescribed for my anxiety after my wife died. I was driving carefully.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, simple ring.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You’re the first woman I’ve met since my wife’s death that I’ve wanted to leave something with. This was hers. Thank you for dinner, Mia. It was… more than I deserved.”
He handed me the ring, then nodded slightly before walking away.
“Wait,” I whispered, but the words got lost in the cold night air.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the ring in my hand. When I walked back inside, my mother was waiting.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You didn’t tell me the whole truth, did you?” I demanded.
She sighed. “No. I didn’t. I was driving too fast that night. I… I was scared, Mia.”
“Is he worth chasing?”
The look in her eyes said it all. Yes. But it was already too late.
***
I couldn’t stop thinking about Christopher. His story, the accident, the weight he carried. It haunted me.
I placed an ad in the local paper, something simple but direct:
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Christopher Hartman, if you see this, please meet me at the restaurant where we last had dinner. I eat there every evening. Mia.”
I felt a little foolish, not knowing if he’d ever read it or if he even wanted to see me again. But I had to try. There was too much left unsaid.
***
The day after placing the ad, I arrived at the restaurant early. As the minutes ticked by, doubt started creeping in.
Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
But then, just as I was about to give up, the door opened. Christopher stepped in, scanning the room until they landed on me. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he walked over.
“I saw your ad,” he said, sitting down across from me.
We locked eyes for a moment before I spoke. “There’s so much I need to tell you. I found out about your past… about the accident… My mother finally admitted she was at fault, too. And…. she took your money!”
“I didn’t want to blame anyone. After my wife died… nothing mattered.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
We sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle between us.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to be,” he said, his voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but still… I want to help. My mother wants to make things right. She’s returning what she took from you.”
We spent the rest of the evening talking. It wasn’t about pretending anymore. It was real. By the end of the night, I realized something. I had fallen in love with Christopher. And the best part? He felt the same.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
Leave a Reply