When Chad’s French in-laws come over, he invites his friend, Nolan, along — to keep him company while Camille and her parents converse in French. While they have dinner, Chad discovers that Nolan understands French and reveals a family secret.
My wife, Camille, is as French as they come. We met at college when she was an exchange student studying International Politics, and we’ve been together ever since.
Camille’s parents live in France but visit us twice a year. I’ve learned a few odd words and phrases in French, but the language has yet to stick with me.
Other than mon chéri or various dishes from French cuisine, I don’t know much. Now, my in-laws are around, and it’s only been four days.
So, I decided to invite my friend, Nolan to have dinner and meet Camille’s parents. That way, I would also have someone to talk to.
Now imagine this:
We’re all sitting at the table, enjoying our bouillabaisse. Nolan and I talked about an audit at work, and Camille and her parents were happily chatting in French.
Everything seems fine, right? Wrong.
While mid-conversation about work, Nolan’s face goes as white as a ghost, and he nudges my arm firmly with his elbow.
“Go upstairs and check under your bed. Trust me,” he whispers urgently.
My first instinct was to laugh it off — it made no sense. But one look at his wide eyes told me that this wasn’t a joke.
“Excuse me,” I said to the table. “I’ll be right back.”
I reluctantly shuffled to my bedroom, feeling like I was stepping into some strange French noir film. I picked Camille’s silver silk robe off the floor and bent to look under the bed.
My heart was beating ridiculously fast like I was about to have a heart attack. But there it was — a lone black box.
I opened the box with shaky fingers, going through the contents quickly — I didn’t know if Camille would come looking for me. Then, toward the bottom of the box, was a series of photographs of Camille, wearing next to nothing.
My heart pounded harder and nausea rose through my body.
What have I just stumbled upon? I asked myself.
As I was about to put everything back, the world turned black.
It must have been hours later when I woke up in a hospital ward, surrounded by empty beds. The harsh light glared down on me as my eyes adjusted to the change of venue and the sharp smells of detergent.
“Woah,” I mumbled, my throat raw.
That’s when I noticed that Nolan was sitting next to me, his head propped up by his arm.
“You passed out in your bedroom, mate,” he said. “What happened?”
Then, it all came back to me. Camille’s box under the bed, my insatiable curiosity mixed with an overactive heart rate brought on by a panic attack.
But I did get a glimpse into the box. It turned out to be my own Pandora’s Box. There were incriminating photos of Camille, love letters to a man named Benoit, and little trinkets, all piecing together a tale of betrayal.
It turns out that Camille was hiding an affair.
“You were taking forever,” Nolan said. “So, I followed you, and I found you passed out on the floor. I closed the box and pushed it back under before calling Camille and an ambulance.”
“How did you know?” I asked, thinking about the warning Nolan had given me.
“I did French throughout high school, Chad,” he said. “While talking, I understood that Camille said something about hiding everything under the bed. I’m sorry.”
“Where’s Camille?” I asked.
“At the cafeteria, she said she needed to stretch her legs. So, she went to get coffee.”
I put my head back and thought of the letters that my wife had been receiving.
I got discharged the following day, and Nolan drove me home. Camille fussed over me, making me a healthy juice and ensuromg that I was okay. But of course I wasn’t. Nothing was okay.
That afternoon, I had to set the record straight. I couldn’t look at Camille and feel what I had felt before.
“I can’t continue in this marriage,” I said when Camille brought me a juice.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“I know about the black box under the bed.”
Camille turned pale.
“I can explain,” she said, jumping up.
“I saw more than enough, Cami. I don’t think your version of an explanation would change that.”
“Just listen,” she said. “My parents set up the meeting with Benoit. They wanted me to be with someone French — to have completely French children.”
I looked at her, wondering how she expected me to sit there and listen to more.
“So, after they arranged it,” she continued. “I met him. And we hit it off, and our friendship grew.”
“I want a divorce. Immediately,” I said, not wanting to listen to anything else.
Camille made a fuss, hurling accusations of me snooping and invading her privacy. She threatened not to sign the divorce papers when they came, but I told her that there was just no love left in our marriage after what she had done.
“Give me another chance,” she pleaded.
But I didn’t want any of it.
The divorce process lasted a few months, and Camille contested everything — from the house to spousal maintenance — and she even wanted me to pay for her tickets to France every year. I refused everything except the house. I didn’t want to be there anymore anyway. I’m living in a bachelor pad closer to my office now.
I’m heartbroken, sure. But at least now, I’m not living a lie. And that’s liberating.
I’m also grateful to Nolan for telling me the truth and staying by my side through the divorce.
Now, I wonder if Camille will end up with Benoit or not — I know her parents will love it if she does.
I Decided to Surprise My Husband at Work Only to Discover He Was on Vacation
I planned to surprise my husband at work with lunch, but instead found out he was on vacation. Confused and suspicious, I followed him the next day and uncovered a shocking secret at my sister’s house. What I found left me questioning everything I thought I knew about my marriage and my family.
I decided to surprise Ben at work with lunch last Tuesday. I’d spent the morning making his favorite — lasagna. With the kids at school, I had some time to myself, and I thought it’d be a sweet gesture. I mean, what husband wouldn’t love a surprise visit from his wife with homemade food, right?
When I arrived at his office, the receptionist gave me a puzzled look.
“You’re here for Ben?” she asked, glancing at the lasagna in my hands.
“Yeah, just wanted to bring him lunch. Is he in?”
She hesitated. “Ben’s been on vacation for the past two weeks.”
I stood there, stunned, trying to process what she’d said. Vacation? He’d told me he was working late all week. My stomach twisted, and I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. I thanked her and left.
At home, I tried to make sense of it. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. But what kind of misunderstanding lasts two weeks? I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. So, I did what any suspicious wife might do — I decided to follow him the next day.
The next morning, I called Mom and asked her to take the kids for the day. I told her I had some errands to run. She was happy to help, oblivious to the turmoil brewing in my head. I then followed Ben to find out what was really going on.
I watched as he left the house and got into his car, and I followed at a safe distance. He drove across town and pulled up to Kate’s house — my sister’s house.
My mouth went dry as I watched him get out of the car. Kate came out, smiling warmly as she embraced him and led him inside.
My mind went blank. Was Ben having an affair with my sister? I couldn’t believe it, but what else could explain it? The pain of betrayal cut deep, and I felt tears welling up. I had to know for sure.
I parked my car a few houses down from Kate’s place and called Carla, my lawyer. She’d handled a few legal matters for us before, and I trusted her judgment. I told her everything, my voice trembling with anger and hurt.
“Julia,” Carla said, her tone calm and professional, “before you jump to conclusions, gather some concrete evidence. It’s important to be sure before taking any legal steps.”
I knew she was right. So, I went back to Kate’s house, lurking around like some sort of spy. I felt ridiculous, but I had to know the truth. I peered through a window, careful not to be seen.
Inside, I saw Ben and Kate sitting at the kitchen table, huddled over lunch, and a pile of papers. They looked serious, and every now and then, they’d glance around, as if worried about being caught.
What were they plotting? The more I watched, the more convinced I became that something was terribly wrong. It wasn’t just an affair — they were planning something.
I snapped a few photos with my phone, my hands shaking. I needed proof, something concrete to confront Ben with. My mind raced with all sorts of terrible scenarios. What were they up to?
I called James from my car. He picked up on the first ring. James, my brother-in-law, had always been the sensible one in the family. Married to Kate for nearly a decade, he was the calm, rational counterpoint to her more impulsive nature.
He and Ben got along well, often bonding over their shared love of sports and grilling. I trusted James, and if anyone could help me make sense of this, it was him.
“James, it’s Julia. I need to talk to you about Ben and Kate.”
There was a pause. “Julia, calm down. What’s going on?”
“I think they’re having an affair,” I blurted out, my voice shaking.
James sighed. “Julia, you need to come over here. Now.”
I hurried back to Kate’s house, my mind spinning with fear and betrayal. When I arrived, I saw James’ car already parked outside. I crept up to the house and peeked through the window again. James was there, sitting with Ben and Kate at the kitchen table.
I could hear snippets of their conversation through the half-open window.
“Julia called me,” James said, sounding concerned. “She’s worried sick, thinks you two are having an affair.”
Ben nodded. “So, she is unaware of everything.”
“That’s great!” Kate replied, her tone filled with excitement.
“Our plan is working,” Ben added.
My heart shattered. I had heard enough. I barged into the house, my anger boiling over.
“You lying, cheating traitors! How could you do this to me?”
Kate and Ben looked at me, stunned. James stood up, trying to calm me down.
“Julia, please, let us explain.”
“Explain what? That my husband is cheating on me with my sister?” I screamed, tears streaming down my face.
“Julia, it’s not what you think,” Ben said softly, trying to calm me down. “I took a vacation to work on a surprise for you.”
I laughed bitterly. “A surprise? Meeting at Kate’s house every day is a surprise?”
“Yes,” Ben said, his voice steady. “I was planning to make your dream come true. You always talked about owning a coffee shop, right?”
I blinked, not understanding. “What?”
Kate stepped forward, holding a stack of papers. “Ben has been using his inheritance to buy a coffee shop for you. We’ve been working on the business plan and all the legal paperwork here.”
My anger started to wane, replaced by confusion and a glimmer of hope. “A coffee shop? For me?”
Ben nodded, pulling out a folder and handing it to me. “Look, these are the documents. The lease, the renovation plans, everything. I wanted it to be perfect before I told you. James and Kate are co-investors, so I wanted to make sure they are completely onboard.”
I looked at the papers, the words blurring through my tears. It was all there. The proof of his love and dedication, the coffee shop I had always dreamed of. My knees buckled, and Ben caught me before I fell.
“Oh my goodness, Ben… I’m so sorry. I thought… I thought you were…”
“I know,” he said, hugging me tightly. “I should have told you, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to see your face when I handed you the keys.”
“I’m such an idiot,” I sobbed into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay. I understand why you felt that way. But Julia, I love you. I would never betray you.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of my mistake. “Thank you, Ben. Thank you for everything.”
The next day, we went to sign the final papers. The coffee shop was ours. I could hardly believe it. As I walked into the quaint little space, the smell of freshly baked goods already filling the air, I felt so joyful.
Ben squeezed my hand. “This is all for you, babe. I believe in you.”
I smiled, tears of happiness streaming down my face. “I love you, love. Thank you for believing in me.”
We worked together, turning the coffee shop into something magical. It became a place where dreams were baked into reality, where love and trust were the secret ingredients in every recipe.
Looking back, I realized how important trust and communication are in a relationship. Misunderstandings can happen, but it’s how we handle them that truly matters.
As I stood in my coffee shop, surrounded by the aroma of freshly baked goods, I felt grateful for Ben’s unwavering love and support. We had faced a storm, and together, we had come out stronger.
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