I Swapped Faces with My Husband’s Mistress

An accident left my face burned and scarred.

After that, every mirror disappeared from our home.

Thank God my husband Marcus loved me. He’s a plastic surgeon, and he didn’t care that I was ugly now.

But one day, I was scrolling through his phone and found a post he’d made on Reddit:

“I love my wife, but she was disfigured in a fire and the damage is severe. Every night, I just can’t feel any desire for her. I want to find a beautiful mistress, but I feel so guilty. What should I do?”

The top comment read:

“Find a woman and give her plastic surgery to look like your wife did before the accident.”

The most unbelievable part? My husband replied:

“Thanks for the advice!”

My mind went blank. I gently locked his phone screen and placed it back on the couch.

I didn’t know what that post meant.

After my disfigurement, he changed my bandages himself every morning. His fingers were so gentle, like he was afraid I might shatter. The meals he prepared always perfectly matched my taste.

He would often hold my hand and say:

“Don’t be scared. I promise I’ll design the best surgical plan and make you look like yourself again.”

Now, looking at that post, was he planning to abandon me?

Just then, Marcus walked out of the bedroom. He hugged me excitedly.

“I’m taking you for a checkup tomorrow. Your surgery will start soon.”

But I kept my expression calm. Not long ago, you were posting online about finding a replacement. Now you’ve changed your mind?

I said flatly:

“Plastic surgery is expensive. And there’s no guarantee I’ll look the same. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Hearing my defeated tone, Marcus suddenly looked angry.

“Elena, what’s wrong with you now?”

“Don’t you trust me? I’m one of the best plastic surgeons around. I promise I’ll make you look exactly like you did before.”

“Don’t worry about the money. Worst case, we’ll sell our condo and buy something smaller. We can still make it work.”

Then I said coldly:

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just get a beautiful new wife?”

Marcus froze. Then he gripped my wrist tightly, his eyes filled with an almost insane obsession.

“No. I don’t want anyone but you.”

I wanted to ask him why he made that post.

But I swallowed the words.

The next day, I went to the hospital for the checkup.

I overheard Marcus on the phone, arguing intensely with a woman.

“Why aren’t you coming in for the surgery? Do you know how hard it is to get an appointment like this? People wait a year for slots like these.”

“I’ve prepared the entire surgical plan. If you don’t show up, I’ll lose hundreds of thousands of dollars. Don’t think I won’t sue you.”

The woman on the other end was crying, promising she’d come tomorrow afternoon.

Then Marcus’s tone changed, becoming strangely tender.

“I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t really sue you.”

“I like you too much for that.”

Those few words left me frozen.

I waited until Marcus hung up before slowly walking out of the examination room.

I pretended nothing was wrong. Marcus put his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead, smiling.

“How did the checkup go?”

He took the report from my hands. Inside, I felt worthless. I’m already this ugly, I thought. How long are you going to keep pretending to love me?