I found out a horrible truth about my husband.
In a little town up in the Yorkshire Dales, where the summer heat gives way to cool evening breezes, Hannah and her best mate Emily were sitting on the porch of an old cottage, sipping iced lemonade. Hannah’s heart was heavy, and she couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“Em, I can’t do this anymore,” she started, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. “Tom’s been acting so weird lately—it’s driving me mad.”
“Weird how?” Emily frowned, setting her glass down.
“He sneaks off to take calls, says he’s staying over at his mum’s,” Hannah’s voice wavered. “But the worst bit was last week when we were driving back from Tesco.”
Emily leaned in, waiting. Hannah took a deep breath and spilled everything. The more she talked, the wider Emily’s eyes got.
The heat was still clinging to the air, and Tom was an hour late. Hannah kept calling, but his phone was switched off. She paced the garden, imagining the worst.
“What if something’s happened to him?” she blurted, clutching her phone.
“Like what?” Emily asked calmly.
“I don’t know—a car crash, or… don’t make me say it, I feel sick enough already!”
“Hey, don’t take it out on me,” Emily said gently.
“Sorry,” Hannah sighed. “You were right about Tom being dodgy. He swears those calls are work-related, and last week he said his mum was ill, so he stayed over. But yesterday, she rang while we were in the car. He put her on speaker, and she started yelling that he hadn’t been round in a month!”
Hannah went quiet, her eyes brimming. Emily frowned.
“He said she forgets things, but I don’t buy it. She sounded fine. And then she said, ‘Say hi to Annie from me.’ I asked who that was, and Tom said it was just her nickname for me.”
“Some people do mix up Hannah and Annie,” Emily offered.
“Maybe,” Hannah muttered, but doubt gnawed at her.
Just then, Tom’s car pulled into the drive. Hannah jumped up, knocking over her chair, and rushed to him.
“Where’ve you been? I was worried sick! Your phone was off!” she cried, hugging him.
Emily shot Tom a stiff nod on her way past—they’d never warmed to each other.
“You know I turn it off at the office. Forgot to switch it back on,” Tom said casually. “What’s for dinner?”
“You’re always working, love. Maybe it’s time you paid a bit more attention to me?” Hannah said, forcing a smile.
“Sorry, I’m a workaholic,” he laughed, but there was distance in his voice.
A week later, they took their dog, Max, for a walk by the river. Tom threw a stick, but Max kept bringing it back to Hannah.
“Does he even think I’m his owner?” Tom grumbled.
“Don’t be daft. I raised him as a pup—you’re never home, so he doesn’t know you as well,” Hannah said.
Tom opened his mouth to argue, but his phone rang. He glanced at it and stepped away.
“Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”
Hannah and Max walked on, but Tom never did. When she got back, his car was gone, his phone off again. Her stomach twisted. She called Emily.
Emily, who lived just down the road with her husband and little boy, came straight over. Over tea, Hannah poured out her fears.
“Maybe he’s ill and hiding it?” Emily suggested.
“He’s never once complained,” Hannah said.
“Then, sorry love, but it sounds like another woman,” Emily said bluntly. “Why else vanish like that?”
“Did I bore him that quickly?” Hannah whispered. “How do I find out?”
“Ask him straight,” Emily shrugged.
Tom didn’t come home till dawn, thinking she wouldn’t notice. But she’d been awake all night.
“Where were you? Is there someone else?” she demanded.
Tom burst out laughing, wiping his eyes.
“Another woman? I can barely keep up with you!”
His laughter stung. She lay there, suddenly realising—what did she even know about him? They’d met at a music festival, but his job, his friends—all a mystery. She’d never even met his mum.
“Who is he?” she thought.
She grabbed her laptop and searched online. Tom’s socials were empty, but she found a woman with his last name—Natasha. The profile was old, but it mentioned being married to a Thomas. Without thinking, Hannah messaged: “Is this your husband?” with a photo.
The reply was instant: “Yes. Why? He said he was helping a mate.”
Hannah let out a bitter laugh and typed, “Your husband’s fine, asleep now. His ‘mate’ is well too. He’ll be home soon.”
That’s when she knew—she was the other woman. Suddenly, it all made sense: his laughter, his lies, his disappearances. Tom had been living a double life, and she was just part of it.
In the morning, she woke him with a cold stare.
“Pack your things and go,” she said firmly. “You’re done here.”
Tom tried to explain, but Hannah shut the door. Her heart was shattered, but the truth had set her free. Now, she’d start again—no lies, no betrayal. Just her.