While My Friend Was on a Trip, I Discovered Her Husband Was Cheating and Plotting to Steal Her House, but She Turned on Me Instead — Story of the Day

When my best friend left town for a work trip, she asked me to watch her house. I agreed, not knowing I’d uncover her husband’s betrayal—and his secret plan to take everything from her. But when I told her the truth, she didn’t thank me. She accused me instead.

They said friends were the family you chose. I used to believe that with all my heart. Jessica had been my best friend since college, and even after all these years, we remained close.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

We’d laughed, cried, and shared almost everything. But my intuition had never screamed louder than the day I met Mark, Jessica’s husband. Something about him felt wrong.

Cold eyes with a warm smile. Like someone pretending to be kind but hiding something darker underneath. I didn’t like him then. And I liked him even less now.

One day, Jessica and I were sitting on her porch, like we had so many times before.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The air was soft with late spring heat, warm but not heavy, and her cat, Taco, sprawled on the sunlit tiles like royalty, one paw twitching in a dream.

Jessica stirred honey into her tea, slow and quiet. Then she looked up at me with that guilty little smile I knew all too well—the kind she wore when she wanted something but didn’t want to ask.

“I need a favor,” Jessica said. Her voice was soft, like she already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “What kind of favor?”

She avoided my eyes. “I’m flying to New York next week. Big marketing pitch. I’ll be gone five days.”

I waited. She still hadn’t asked anything real.

“Could you check in on the house?” she added. “Feed Taco, water the plants, maybe bring in the mail. Just keep it from looking empty.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I raised an eyebrow. “And your husband? What’s he doing while you’re gone?”

She looked down at her tea. “He said it’s not really his thing.”

I blinked. “What’s not his thing?”ly

“Taking care of the house. Feeding the cat. He said it’s not a man’s job.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I scoffed and shook my head. “So, he can close real estate deals and wear cufflinks before noon, but a can of cat food is too much?”

Her jaw tightened. “Mark’s just not domestic. That’s just how he is.”

I leaned forward. “Jess, I love you. You know that. But you’re doing it again.”

She frowned. “Doing what?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You’re making excuses for him. Again. He doesn’t do much, but you keep defending him. Why?”

Her voice got louder. “You’ve never liked him. From day one. You always look for reasons to hate him.”

“I had reasons, Jess. I still do. My gut said no the moment I met him.”

She pointed a finger at me. “You’re alone, Lee. And that’s not his fault.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I flinched. That one hit hard, but I kept my voice steady. “You think I’m jealous? You think I want your life?”

She stood up and crossed her arms. “You never gave him a chance. You decided you didn’t like him before you even heard him speak.”

Before I could answer, the sliding door opened behind her. Mark walked out like he owned the world. Crisp polo. Perfect hair. Phone in hand, thumbs tapping.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What are we talking about?” he said. “Me again?”

“Just your refusal to feed the cat,” I said.

He gave that smug smile I hated. “I delegate where it makes sense. It’s called efficiency.”

I turned to Jessica. “He hasn’t looked up from that phone. Who’s he texting so much?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s work,” she said. “He has a big client. Real estate.”

I stared at his screen. “Must be a very flirty deal.”

Jessica slammed her glass down. “Enough. If you’re going to keep insulting him, maybe you shouldn’t help.”

I sighed. “I said I’d do it, and I will. For you. Not for him.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mark looked up. “Try not to rearrange the furniture.”

I smiled. “Wouldn’t want to upset your kingdom.”

But I was already planning to keep my eyes open.

It was late afternoon when I pulled into Jessica’s driveway. The sky looked strange—dark clouds rolled in slow, and the air felt still, like it was waiting for something bad to happen.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I parked and walked up the steps. The back door key was warm in my hand. I unlocked it and stepped inside.

Taco was there right away, rubbing against my leg, purring loud like always. He had no idea what was going on.

I bent down and gave him a quick scratch behind the ears. “Hey, buddy,” I whispered. “Let’s get you some food.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I filled his bowl and poured some water, then walked around the kitchen. I checked the plants in the window and the mail on the counter. Everything looked normal. Too normal. That’s when I heard it.

Laughter.

A man’s voice—Mark. And then a woman’s laugh followed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I froze at the bottom of the stairs. My heart pounded. I moved slowly, quietly as I could. The bedroom door was open just a little. I stepped closer and peeked in.

Mark was on the bed. Half his shirt was unbuttoned. Next to him was a woman wearing Jessica’s robe, sipping from her favorite glass like she owned the place.

“I told you it would work,” Mark said. He raised his glass and took a sip. “She signed it without reading. Didn’t even ask questions. Just trusted me like always.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The woman laughed. “Are you sure this gives you the house?”

Mark leaned back against the pillows. “Yes. Once I get it notarized on Friday, it’s done. She thinks it’s just boring bank papers. Something about refinancing. I made it sound simple.”

The woman looked around the room. “What about all her stuff? Clothes? Books?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He waved his hand. “We’ll throw out what we don’t want. Maybe sell a few things. I already packed some boxes. The rest is trash. The cat’s going too.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wow. She’s going to be crushed.”

Mark smirked. “She won’t be. We’ll be long gone before she knows. I’ve been looking at condos in Miami. Pool, gym, all that. This place will be listed by the time she gets back.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I felt sick. I couldn’t listen anymore. My foot hit the edge of the stairs. A soft creak.

Mark’s head turned. “Did you hear that?” he asked, voice sharp.

I didn’t wait. I ran. Down the stairs. Out the back door. Into my car. My hands shook as I grabbed my phone. I hit Jessica’s name.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Lee?” she answered. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a woman in your house. With Mark. I saw them. I heard everything. He tricked you into signing papers. He’s stealing your house.”

She didn’t answer right away.

Then she said, “You’re lying.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m not. Jess, please believe me—”

“You’ve always hated him. You’ve been waiting for a reason to tear us apart. You’re jealous. And now you’re making up stories.”

“No, I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to protect you.”

Her voice turned cold. “Don’t call me again.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Click. The line went dead.

Later that evening, my doorbell rang. I opened it. Mark stood there. Calm. Hands in his pockets.

“She told me everything,” he said. “About your little story.”

I didn’t blink. “I’m not afraid of you.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He stepped closer. “You should be. Keep pushing, and someone’s going to get hurt.”

I knew Jessica wouldn’t believe me unless she saw everything with her own eyes. Words wouldn’t be enough.

Not even tears would move her. Jessica was too in love with him. Too loyal. Too proud.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

She wouldn’t walk away without something solid. Proof she could touch. Proof she couldn’t explain away.

That’s why I did something I hated—something that felt cold and cruel, but also right.

I downloaded a fake call app. I set it up to look like the hospital was calling her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The message said I had been in a car accident. It said I was in the emergency room and not waking up.

I knew it was wrong to scare her like that, but it was the only thing that would pull her back fast.

And it worked.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Six hours later, there was a knock at my door. Jessica stood there, breathing hard. Her hair was messy. Her eyes were wide. She looked like she had run the whole way.

“Are you okay?” Jessica asked as she rushed inside. Her face was pale, and her breath came fast. She looked like she had been crying.

“I’m fine,” I said. “There was no accident. I’m not hurt. I made it up.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You lied to me?” she shouted. Her voice shook. “What the hell, Lee? Why would you do that?”

“Because you wouldn’t listen,” I said. “You wouldn’t hear me. I had to bring you back. I needed you to see it for yourself.”

She stared at me, her eyes wide and full of pain. For a moment, I thought she might hit me. But then she took a deep breath and said, “Okay. Show me.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

We drove to her house. Neither of us spoke. The silence felt heavy.

When we reached her block, I parked a few houses down. We got out and walked slowly. At her window, we stopped and looked inside.

Mark was on the couch with the same woman. They were kissing like they didn’t have a care in the world.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Jessica didn’t speak. She took out her phone. Her hands shook, but she snapped photo after photo. Her jaw tightened.

“I want to go inside,” she said.

We walked to the door. It was unlocked.

Inside, everything was different. The scent of her favorite candle was gone.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The hallway was cold and quiet. Black trash bags lined the wall. Boxes were stacked on top of each other.

Sharp words written across them: “JUNK,” “DONATE,” “TRASH.” Her life was being packed away like it meant nothing.

Jessica’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Mark!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He turned around fast, eyes wide. “Jessica? What the hell are you doing here?”

She stepped forward. Her voice was loud. Her hands were tight fists at her sides. “What am I doing here? Are you serious? You liar! You cheat! You’re throwing away my life like it’s trash!”

The woman on the couch jumped up. She grabbed her purse and started moving toward the door. “I’ll just—”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Sit down!” Jessica snapped. “I’m not finished.”

Mark raised both hands. “Jess, wait. This isn’t what it looks like.”

She laughed, but it sounded sharp and cold. “Not what it looks like? You’re kissing another woman in my house! She’s wearing my robe. Drinking from my glass. You tossed my things in garbage bags. And you’re telling her my house is yours now?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mark looked nervous. “You signed the papers. You didn’t even read them.”

“You tricked me,” Jessica said. Her voice was shaking now. “You told me it was for refinancing. You stood in front of me and lied.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. They’re signed. It’s legal. It’s done. You just ruined everything.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Then he turned to me and pointed. “This is her fault. Lee. She’s been against me from the start. She poisoned your mind.”

Jessica took one step toward him. “No, Mark. You did this all by yourself. Lee told the truth. You think you can break me? You think you can take everything I own and leave me with nothing?”

She shook her head. “You’ll be left with nothing. Just your ego. And that won’t help you now.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mark’s face twisted. “You’ll regret this.”

“No,” Jessica said. Her voice was calm now. “You will.”

She pointed at the door. “Get out. Both of you. I don’t want to see either of you in this house again.”

The woman ran out first. She didn’t look back. Mark stood there a second longer.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His jaw was tight. His fists clenched. Then he turned and walked out. He slammed the door behind him.

Jessica didn’t move. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just stood there. Still and quiet.

I looked at her. “You’re awfully calm.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She turned to me. “Because I already knew. I’ve felt it for a while. I knew he was cheating. I saw the strange paperwork. I just didn’t want to believe it. I needed proof.”

“You could’ve told me,” I said.

“I didn’t want it to feel fake,” she said. “I needed him to think I still trusted him. And I needed you to act normal. You did.”

I nodded. “So… you used me?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She shook her head. “No. I trusted you. Even when I acted like I didn’t. You stood by me.”

“I always will,” I said.

She gave me a small smile. Then she looked at the bags and boxes. “Let’s clean this up. I’ve got a life to rebuild.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When I found out my husband and my best friend were having an affair, I thought nothing could hurt more. But then my own mother asked me to hand over my children to them — as if I didn’t matter at all. I was broken, but I knew one thing: I wouldn’t let them win.

Wealthy Heir Humiliates Beggar Outside Luxury Hotel, Finds His Bank Account Drained Next Morning

Peter was raised in luxury, being the only son of a wealthy hotel owner.

Unfortunately, his privileged upbringing turned him into an arrogant young man who believed himself superior to others.

One afternoon, Peter entered his father’s grand hotel and was welcomed by Jenny, a new employee. She politely asked if he’d like a welcome drink.

“Don’t you know who I am?” Peter scoffed. “I only drink a special blend prepared just for me.”

Unaware of his preferences — since she had only been working at the hotel for a week — Jenny apologized and went to the kitchen to prepare his drink.

Peter then approached his father’s assistant, Marcus. True to his nature, Peter mocked him.

“Why the long face, Marcus? How do you expect to work in hospitality when you can’t even manage a smile?”

Marcus responded respectfully, apologizing for appearing tired.

“Soon I’ll be running this place,” Peter boasted. “When that happens, there won’t be room for excuses.”

Without waiting for a reply, Peter walked into his father’s office.

For illustrative purposes only.

There, Mr. Greenwood advised his son to treat everyone with respect, reminding him that every person in the hotel, no matter their role, contributed to its success. But Peter brushed off the advice and asked his father to consider retiring and letting him take over the business.

Seeing Peter’s impatience and arrogance, Mr. Greenwood proposed a challenge instead: five businessmen from different countries would be visiting the hotel, and Peter’s task was to ensure their stay was flawless.

Feeling confident, Peter settled into his father’s office chair, bragging to a friend on the phone about being in charge for the day. However, his call was interrupted by the sound of someone singing loudly outside.

Looking out the window, Peter saw a homeless man singing on the sidewalk near the hotel entrance. Furious that such a scene might tarnish the hotel’s image, he rushed out to confront the man.

“What do you think you’re doing here, singing in front of my hotel?” Peter snapped. “Soon, important guests will be arriving, and I don’t want them seeing you here. Leave immediately!”

For illustrative purposes only.

At that moment, Marcus stepped in, offering the homeless man $500 to find food and shelter for the night, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

The man accepted the money gratefully and left, while Marcus reminded Peter that their first guest was about to arrive.

The businessmen arrived and were soon enjoying their stay. Their praise for the hotel’s food and service gave Peter a sense of accomplishment. But his relief was short-lived.

Later that evening, the same homeless man returned, this time wanting to use the $500 to rent a room for the night. Peter reluctantly agreed but instructed staff to place him in a room far from the guests.

Yet, Peter remained determined to drive the man away. When Mr. Roberts, one of the businessmen, reported that his valuable family heirloom watch was missing from the restroom, Peter saw an opportunity.

For illustrative purposes only.

He sneakily planted the watch in the homeless man’s room, then informed the police that he had seen the man acting suspiciously.

The police searched the room, found the watch, and questioned the homeless man. Calmly, the man denied any involvement, expressing surprise at the situation but agreeing to cooperate with the authorities.

The next morning, Peter was feeling triumphant — until his father entered the room with news that would shake him.

Expecting praise, Peter was instead told to check his bank account. To his shock, his multi-million-dollar account balance had dwindled to a single dollar.

His father revealed the truth — the homeless man Peter had insulted and framed was Mr. Greenwood himself, disguised to test Peter’s character.

“You may have handled the guests well,” Mr. Greenwood said sternly, “but you failed to uphold the values that matter most: respect, integrity, and compassion.”

For illustrative purposes only.

As Peter left the hotel, burdened by the weight of his actions, he realized that true leadership wasn’t about wealth or status — it was about character, humility, and treating everyone with dignity.

Related Posts

GEORGE CLOONEY TRAGIC STORY!

18 May 2024 Animals 0

George Clooney discussed the tragic on-set shooting of cinematographer Halyna Hutchins during the production of “Rust” on the WTF with Marc Maron podcast, connecting it […]

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*