When my husband came home with another woman and announced he wanted her to be his second wife, I thought it was a joke. But when I realized he was serious, I told him I’d agree on one condition. That condition was something he wasn’t expecting.
I never thought I’d find myself in this situation, but here I am, ready to share what happened a week ago.
It all started a couple of months ago when Jack, my husband of eight years, began acting strangely.
A man standing in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney
We weren’t newlyweds anymore, but our marriage was stable. Or at least, that’s what I thought.
Jack’s mood shifts were subtle at first.
He’d always been full of ideas, but suddenly, he was talking about “alternative lifestyles” as if he’d discovered a new way of life.
“You know,” he said one evening while scrolling on his phone, “some people are really embracing unconventional ways of living. Makes you think about what works and what doesn’t.”
“Like what?” I asked.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said vaguely. “Just… ways to make life easier.”
I assumed he meant something harmless, like minimalism or one of those eco-friendly lifestyles.
The thing is, Jack was always diving headfirst into fads. There was that time he became obsessed with woodworking and another when he swore he’d open a food truck.
It always fizzled out eventually. I thought this time would be no different.
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
Then came the comments.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we had some extra help around here?” he asked one night as I folded laundry.
“What do you mean?” I replied, glancing at him.
“Oh, nothing,” he said with a shrug. “You’re always so busy. Don’t you think it’d be great if you had someone to share the load?”
“You mean a cleaning service?” I joked.
He chuckled but didn’t answer. His tone was weirdly serious, and for the first time, I felt uneasy.
A man with a serious look | Source: Midjourney
Around this time, I noticed he’d started spending a lot more time on his phone. He’d take it everywhere. Literally everywhere. The kitchen, the bathroom, and even to bed.
He’d sit there scrolling and chuckling to himself. When I asked what was so funny, he’d say, “Just some reels on Instagram.”
At first, I brushed it off. But then something about his weird habit started bothering me.I mean, who spends so much time on their phone? And that too all of a sudden?
That’s when I knew I had to confront him.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
One night, as he came out of the bathroom with his phone in hand, I finally asked, “Jack, is everything okay?”
He paused mid-step.
“Of course,” he said with a smile. “I’m just thinking about how to make life better for us, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”
His words were meant to reassure me, but they had the opposite effect. “Make life better for us” sounded like code for something I wasn’t ready to unpack.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
A few days later, Jack asked me something that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Do you think I’m honest with you?” he said casually.
“Honest?” I repeated. “Umm, yeah. Why?”
“No reason,” he replied quickly. “I just think honesty is the most important thing in a marriage. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of course,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But what’s this about? Where is this coming from?”
“Oh, nothing,” he chuckled. “I just think it’s time we talked about the future. You know, ways to make things better for both of us.”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
“Uh, okay,” I said, thinking of a way to change the topic. “I have to go grab some things from the store today. Mind coming along?”
“Sure,” he said.
I hoped he’d drop whatever weird topic he was trying to bring up that day. But in hindsight, that conversation was just the beginning of the storm.
Fast forward to last week. Jack came home from work looking unusually chipper. I was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner when the door swung open.
A woman chopping vegetables | Source: Pexels
I glanced up, expecting his usual halfhearted “Hey, babe.” Instead, he walked in with a young woman trailing behind him.
“Amelia,” he said in a cheerful tone, “this is Claire.”
I set the knife down, confused.
Who was this woman? Was this a friend? I’d never heard her name before.
“Hi, Claire,” I said. “Can I, uh, help you with something?”
Instead of replying, she just stared at Jack, waiting for him to answer.
“What’s going on, Jack?” I asked impatiently.
I knew something was not right.
A woman standing in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Amelia…” he began. “Claire is going to be my second wife.”
Second wife? I thought he was joking.
“Good one, Jack,” I laughed. “You got me. Where’s the hidden camera?”
But his expression didn’t change. He was serious. Dead serious.
“You’re joking,” I said. “This isn’t true, right?”
My gaze shifted from him to Claire, who stared back at me like I was the one being unreasonable.
A woman standing in her boyfriend’s house | Source: Midjourney
“No,” Jack replied. “Listen, Amelia, this is going to sound unconventional, but it’s practical. Claire is a hardworking woman. She can help with the cooking, cleaning, and other household tasks. This way, everything runs smoothly. And it’s better than sneaking around and having a mistress, right? At least I’m being honest.”
I stared at him, trying to process his words.
He was trying to fit another woman into our lives as if it was no big deal. And he wanted me to appreciate his honesty? Seriously Jack?
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
Meanwhile, Claire stood behind him, trying to avoid my gaze. I could tell that she wanted to be anywhere but there.
As I stood there, Jack kept rambling about how this was the “best solution” for everyone. That’s when a wicked idea popped into my head.
I folded my arms and waited for him to finish. When he finally stopped talking, I smiled sweetly.
“Alright,” I said. “You can have a second wife. But I’ll set one rule.”
His face lit up. “Of course! Anything! What’s the rule?”
A man smiling while talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
“She can’t approach my second husband,” I announced. “Deal?”
Jack stared at me like I’d just said the most unusual thing he’d ever heard.
“S-second husband?” he stammered. “Wh-what does that mean?”
“Well, if you’re allowed to have a second spouse, why shouldn’t I? Think about it, Jack. Two incomes. Someone to take me out when you’re busy or don’t feel like it. A man who actually buys me flowers. It’s only fair, right?”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
“That’s… that’s not how it works!” he spluttered. “You’re being ridiculous, Amelia!”
“Oh, I’m the ridiculous one?” I shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You walk in here with a stranger and expect me to welcome her with open arms, but the idea of me having the same freedom is absurd? Interesting logic, Jack.”
Claire stood frozen, her gaze darting between us like she’d accidentally wandered into the wrong room. If she was nervous before, she now looked like she was seconds away from bolting out the door.
A woman looking at her boyfriend talk to his wife | Source: Midjourney
Jack’s face turned red as he tried to justify his idea.
“This is different,” he said. “A man having two wives… it’s acceptable in some cultures. But a woman having two husbands? No one has ever heard of that.”
I snorted. “Oh, so now you’re an expert on culture? Funny, I don’t remember you suddenly adopting any other traditions. Why only THIS SPECIFIC tradition, huh?”
“Amelia, be serious,” he said, his voice rising. “You can’t have a second husband. That’s not how things work!”
A man arguing with his wife | Source: Midjourney
“Well, Jack, if you want to live in a ‘traditional’ way, then I guess I’ll embrace some traditions of my own,” I said with a shrug. “But let me be clear. You can’t have a second wife unless I get a second husband. That’s my rule. Take it or leave it.”
He stared at me with eyes wide open. I knew he wanted to scream at me, but even he knew he was the one being unreasonable.
Then, without another word, he turned to Claire. “Go home. We’ll figure this out later.”
Claire didn’t argue. She grabbed her purse and practically ran out the door without even saying goodbye to the man she thought would marry her.
A close-up shot of a doorknob | Source: Pexels
That night, Jack tried everything to convince me I was being unreasonable. “You don’t mean this,” he said, pacing the living room. “You’re just trying to prove a point. Let’s talk about this like adults.”
“We are talking,” I said coolly. “I’ve made my position clear. If you want Claire, I want another husband. Fair’s fair, Jack.”
By morning, his tune had changed. He entered the kitchen with his gaze lowered.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said sheepishly. “Maybe this whole second-wife thing wasn’t such a great idea.”
A man talking to his wife in the morning | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe?” I replied, arching an eyebrow.
“Fine. It was a terrible idea. Let’s just forget this ever happened, okay?”
Forget this ever happened? Haha! Nice try, Jack.
“It’s too late to forget everything,” I told him. “Last night, I’d set up a dating app profile, and I’ve already received dozens of messages from men who seem way more interested in being my second husband than I ever expected.”
“What do you mean?” he asked in a trembling voice.
“I’m done, Jack. It’s over,” I said.
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I packed my bags and moved to a friend’s house.
Jack kept calling me, but I didn’t respond. He even sent texts, begging me for forgiveness.
Soon, I filed for divorce, and from what I’ve heard, even Claire stopped answering Jack’s calls.
Guess he should’ve thought twice before pitching such a “practical” solution.
I Cooked a Festive Dinner for 20 People for My Husband’s Birthday — Then He Ditched Me to Celebrate at a Bar
I thought I was being a good wife, throwing a festive dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. But just as the guests were about to arrive, he told me he was ditching the party to watch the game at a bar. What happened next? Let’s just say, I got the last laugh.
You’d think six years of marriage would teach someone a little gratitude, but not Todd. Every year, I’d pour my heart and soul into his birthday, only for him to take it all for granted.
This year, though, his entitlement hit a whole new level.
A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Six years. That’s how long Todd and I have been married.
Don’t get me wrong, our relationship isn’t all bad. Todd can be charming when he wants to be, and we’ve had some wonderful times together. But there’s one thing about him that drives me absolutely up the wall.
His entitlement.
Take last Thanksgiving, for example. Todd had this brilliant idea to host a dinner for both of our families. He announced it at breakfast one day, grinning like he’d solved world hunger.
Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels
“Claire,” he said, “I think we should host Thanksgiving this year.”
“Okay,” I replied. “That sounds nice. How are we dividing up the responsibilities?”
He waved me off like I’d just asked him to do a headstand.
“Oh, you’re so much better at that stuff,” he said. “I’ll handle… I don’t know, drinks or something. Just make it memorable, alright?”
I should’ve known better, but I went along with it.
For two weeks, I planned and prepped while Todd played fantasy football and occasionally asked me, “You need me to pick up anything?”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
On the big day, I roasted the turkey, whipped up sides, and even made two pies.
And Todd? He carried the cooler of beer into the living room. That’s it.
After dinner, as everyone raved about the food and decor, Todd decided it was time to take credit for everything.
“Glad you all love it,” he said. “I wanted it to be special this year.”
I thought I’d misheard him.
“Oh, really?” I asked. “What part did you want special? The green bean casserole or the centerpiece?”
A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney
He ignored me, of course.
And that’s Todd in a nutshell. He wants the credit without lifting a finger.
Then there was last year on his birthday.
I spent weeks creating a customized photo album, filling it with pictures from our travels and special moments together. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he unwrapped it.
But when he was done flipping through the pages, he just said, “Oh. So, where’s the real gift?”
It wasn’t just his words that hurt. It was the sheer audacity.
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
I’d married a man who once wrote me poetry, and now he couldn’t appreciate a heartfelt gesture. That moment shattered something in me.
It made me realize he wasn’t the man I’d fallen for anymore.
And then came his 35th birthday. The final straw.
We were having dinner when Todd casually told me his plans.
“Claire, I want a big, proper birthday dinner this year,” he said. “Invite the family, my buddies, everyone.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You mean you want me to plan it?”
A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re good at this stuff. Just make it decent, alright? I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of everyone.”
“Decent?” I repeated.
“Yeah, just don’t go overboard or anything. Keep it classy.”
You see the entitlement here? See the way he thinks he deserves a birthday party while knowing how he’d hurt me with his words last time?
Honestly, I didn’t want to agree, but I decided to give him another chance. After all, it was his birthday, and I wanted to make it special even if he didn’t deserve it.
A close-up shot of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
For the next two weeks, I threw myself into planning Todd’s “big, proper birthday dinner.” If he wanted classy, I’d give him classy.
I drafted an impressive menu that had spinach-stuffed chicken, rosemary potatoes, a charcuterie board with cheeses I couldn’t pronounce, and a three-layer chocolate cake that would be the pièce de résistance.
Every day after work, I’d come home, tie my hair up, and get to work cleaning, organizing, and prepping. I even borrowed extra chairs and a folding table from our neighbor, Janice, just to make sure everyone would have a seat.
Todd’s contribution? Absolutely nothing.
A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels
“I’m swamped at work,” he said one night, kicking off his shoes and plopping onto the couch. “But you’ve got this, babe. You’re good at these things.”
Good at these things? I was so tired I could’ve cried.
But instead of snapping, I smiled and said, “Yeah, I’ve got this.”
The day of the party finally arrived.
I woke up early, determined to make everything perfect.
A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney
The house was spotless. The table was set with matching linens and little name cards I’d handwritten. The appetizers were chilling, the main courses simmering, and the cake was decorated with edible gold flakes.
Yes, I went that far.
Todd strolled into the kitchen around noon, scrolling through his phone as usual. He barely glanced at the spread I’d laid out.
“Looks good,” he muttered as he opened the fridge to grab a soda.
“Looks good?” I repeated, half-joking but half-hoping he’d notice the effort I’d put in.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah,” he said, shutting the fridge door. Then, like it was no big deal, he added, “But hey, uh, don’t bother finishing all this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m heading to the bar with the guys to watch the game instead. Cancel everything. Tell everyone something came up.”
“You’re ditching your own birthday dinner?” I asked. “Todd, I’ve been planning this for weeks!”
“It’s not a big deal, Claire,” he shrugged it off. “Just call everyone and tell them we’re busy or something. They’ll understand.”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
“They’ll understand?” My voice rose. “Todd, people are already on their way! You told me to make this decent and now you’re leaving?”
“I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the guys,” he said, ending the conversation.
Then, he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the door.
“You can’t do this, Todd!” I shouted, but he’d already left.
I was so heartbroken. I’d poured my heart, soul, and savings into this dinner, and he just walked out like it was nothing.
A woman looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney
Cancel everything? After all the work I’d done?
But more than anything, I felt humiliated.
How could he treat me like this? How could he brush off all my efforts as if they didn’t matter?
I stared at the table while the candles flickered mockingly.
Is this what you’re worth, Claire? I asked myself. Is this how you’ll let Todd treat you? No. You can’t do this.
At that point, I decided I wouldn’t cancel the dinner. I won’t allow him to make me feel bad again.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
If Todd wanted to act like a spoiled brat, I’d let him, but not without showing him what “embarrassing” really looked like. He had no idea who he was messing with.
I grabbed my phone and sent a group text to all the guests:
Party’s still on! Change of plans. Meet us at the bar on the main street near our place. Bring your appetite!
Then, I got to work.
I packed all the food and loaded it into the car. Then, I drove straight to the bar Todd had mentioned.
A woman driving | Source: Pexels
When I arrived, the place was already buzzing with noise. I looked around and spotted Todd sitting at a table with his buddies, his back to the door. He was completely oblivious to my presence.
“Uh, ma’am? Can I help you?” the bartender asked with wide eyes after noticing the trays of food I was carrying.
I flashed him my sweetest smile. “Oh, I’m just here to share a meal with some people who’ll actually appreciate it.”
A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney
I picked a table near the bar, in full view of Todd’s group, and began unpacking dish after dish. The aroma of the food quickly caught everyone’s attention. Patrons nearby craned their necks to see what was going on.
“What’s this about?” one man asked, gesturing toward the feast I was setting up.
I raised my voice just enough to carry across the room. “Oh, this was supposed to be my husband’s birthday dinner. But he decided to ditch me and come here, so I thought, why let all this food go to waste?”
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
The room erupted in murmurs and laughter, and a few people even clapped. That’s when Todd finally turned around and spotted me.
He immediately stormed over while his buddies murmured amongst themselves.
“Claire! What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes darting nervously between me and the growing crowd.
I didn’t even look at him.
Instead, I addressed the nearest group of patrons. “You like ham? Help yourselves! There’s cake coming too.”
A close-up shot of food in a plate | Source: Pexels
Just as Todd sputtered out another protest, the front door swung open, and in walked his parents, my parents, his sister, and our cousins.
They looked at us, then at the food, and then at all the people munching on what was supposed to be a formal dinner.
Todd’s mom, bless her bluntness, walked right up to him. “What’s going on, Todd? Claire said to meet here for your birthday dinner, but why is she serving food in a bar?”
An older woman | Source: Midjourney
Todd looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.
“Uh, it’s complicated, Mom,” he muttered.
“Oh, I’d love to explain!” I intervened. “Todd decided that watching the game with his friends was more important than the dinner he demanded I plan. So, I brought the dinner to him!”
His dad shook his head. “How disrespectful,” he muttered.
Meanwhile, my mom grabbed a plate and said, “Well, the food smells amazing. Let’s eat!”
A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney
Soon, both our families joined the other patrons and dug into the feast I’d worked so hard on.
And Todd’s friends? They were still laughing at his expense and told him they’ll never forget this day.
By the time I brought out the cake, the bar felt like a full-blown party. On top of the cake, in bold frosting letters, I had written:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SELFISH HUSBAND!
The bar erupted in laughter when I read it aloud, but Todd wasn’t too happy about that.
A man laughing | Source: Pexels
“Was this really necessary, Claire?” he muttered under his breath.
I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “Absolutely.”
Once everyone was done, I started packing up the empty trays. That’s when the bartender stopped me.
“Ma’am, you’re a legend,” he said. “Drinks on the house if you ever come back. Without him, of course!”
I chuckled. “Thank you! I’ll definitely drop by sometime.”
The families didn’t stick around long after the food was gone. My dad gave me a proud nod as he left, while Todd’s mom told him he could’ve done better.
An older woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney
As we drove back home, Todd kept muttering about being “humiliated.” Once we were back, he protested even more.
“Claire, you humiliated me in front of everyone!” he said, throwing his hands in the air.
“No, Todd,” I shot back. “You humiliated yourself. And for the record, don’t expect another homemade meal anytime soon.”
He knew he couldn’t argue with me at that point. He just turned around and stormed off to the bedroom.
A doorknob | Source: Pexels
It’s been two weeks since that night, and I kid you not, Todd has changed. Well, mostly.
His unrealistic demands have dialed down, and he’s been unusually polite, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll pull another stunt like that. He hasn’t apologized outright for ditching me, but his sheepish behavior says enough.
I guess now he knows I’m not the kind of wife who’ll roll over and take his nonsense anymore. If nothing else, that’s a win in my book.
A woman standing by a window | Source: Pexels
What would you have done if you were in my shoes?
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