Anonymous Gift, Hidden Home

At the end of the year, I used my bonus to buy my boyfriend a surprise gift and had it sent to his office. The tracking showed it was delivered. But he never called to ask me about it. A day later, a voice message finally came through. “…Babe, did you… did you buy me a present?” He sounded incredibly hesitant. A seed of suspicion took root in my mind. I decided to test him, asking half-jokingly, “No, why? Did someone get you a gift?” He laughed it off awkwardly. “Oh, probably just something from a friend. I’ll ask around…” My heart went cold. …Ask other friends? Who else would send him a set of matching couple’s rings?

1 When I realized something was wrong, I pushed a little further. “What kind of gift was it?” Eric stammered, “Uh… nothing expensive. Just a pair of sneakers.” Another lie. A tremor went through my chest. The call had already ended. I was on edge all day. I knew this wasn’t simple. That evening, he came home acting completely normal, as if our conversation from earlier had never happened. I brought it up intentionally. “So, where are the sneakers? Let me see.” He froze for a second. “What sneakers?” Then, remembering his lie, he quickly added, “Oh, the sneakers! They were for a coworker, he just used my contact info by mistake. I already gave them back.” He immediately changed the subject. “I’m gonna go hop in the shower. We can talk later.” As he walked into the bathroom, he clutched his phone tightly in his hand. He kept it with him all night, even when we went to bed. The screen had one of those privacy protectors, so I couldn’t see a thing. I choked down my anxiety and waited for him to fall asleep. Finally, I heard the faint sound of snoring. Holding my breath like a thief, I slid my hand under his pillow and pulled out his phone. Fingerprint unlock. In eight years together, this was the first time I had ever looked through his phone. His text messages were clean. But I had a hunch. I swiped up, revealing his recently used apps. Besides the usual ones, I saw an icon for a messaging app I’d almost forgotten about. Some dark impulse made me open it. The chat list was empty, completely cleared. But I remembered that on this app, you could search for keywords in archived conversations, even if the chats themselves were deleted. I typed “rings” into the search bar. A single, recent conversation popped up. …I’d found it. My finger trembled as I tapped on it. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. Right after he’d asked me about the gift that morning, Eric had messaged this woman, whose username was “Jessica.” Because I’d denied sending anything, he was convinced the gift had come from her. Eric: Babe, the gift arrived. Jessica: …What gift? Eric: The couple’s rings. Jessica: What rings? What are you talking about? There was a long pause in the chat. Eric must have realized the rings weren’t from Jessica either. He started to backtrack, to spin a new lie. Eric: My project bonus came in, so I bought us a matching set of rings. It’s a gift from me to you. She replied instantly. Jessica: Aww, thank you, hubby! She even added a cute little emoji. The world started to spin. I felt dizzy. It looked like Eric really was cheating on me. But a few seconds later, that thought was shattered by something far worse. I saw Jessica’s profile picture. It was a wedding photo. And the groom was Eric. They… they were already married? Was I the other woman?

2 I didn’t sleep a wink. I didn’t confront Eric. Instead, I pretended I knew nothing. The next morning, after he left for work, I called in sick to my own job. I drove straight to the address mentioned in their chat history. I stood at the door for a long time, my heart pounding, before finally ringing the bell. A little boy, maybe five or six years old, answered. He looked at me with curious eyes and called back into the house, “Mommy… someone’s here.” My heart leaped into my throat. Then, Jessica appeared. She looked just like she did in the wedding photo, dressed in loose-fitting loungewear, her face free of makeup. Her belly was slightly rounded. She had to be at least six months pregnant. In her hands, she held a bunch of chives, looking every bit the part of a wife waiting for her husband to come home from work. My gaze drifted down to her hand. She was wearing a delicate, diamond-studded ring. It was the other half of the set I’d sent to Eric. “Can I… help you?” she asked, her arm protectively around her son. My throat felt tight. “Do you know Eric?” I managed to ask. Before Jessica could answer, the little boy chirped, “Eric is my daddy! Are you looking for my daddy?” Jessica followed up immediately. “Eric is my husband.” In that moment, my world collapsed. I could barely stand. “…How long have you been married?” Jessica’s brow furrowed slightly. “Who… who are you?” “I’m…” Before I could answer, my phone rang. It was Eric. I declined the call, but he was persistent, calling again and again. The moment I answered, Eric’s voice, cold and furious, came through the line. “Sarah, get away from my house. Right now.” I bit back, my voice shaking with rage. “Why should I? I’m going to get to the bottom of this today!” “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you. Just don’t upset Jessica. She’s pregnant. If the stress harms the baby, you won’t be able to live with yourself.” His voice was filled with a menace that made him a stranger to me. Across from me, Jessica still looked completely bewildered. “Are you here to see my husband?” she asked kindly. “He’s at work. He won’t be back until after seven.” “You must be a friend of his. Why don’t you come in and stay for dinner? I’ve made plenty.” Her gentle smile felt like a knife twisting in my gut. The pain was so sharp I could hardly breathe. She was right. She was a pregnant woman. If something happened to her… I don’t even remember how I left. The second I got downstairs, I saw Eric sprinting toward the building, his face a mask of panic. I realized he must have seen me on a security camera inside the apartment. “You… you didn’t say anything to Jessica, did you?” he panted. “She’s carrying my child, Sarah. Please, I’m begging you, don’t do this to her. Whatever it is, take it out on me.” He looked so desperate, on the verge of tears. To maintain the last shred of my dignity, I said, “We’ll talk at home.” When we finally got back to our apartment, he did something I never expected. He dropped to his knees. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. Yell at me, hit me, do whatever you need to do to feel better.” “…So the child is yours? And Jessica is really your wife?” Tears streamed down his face as he gave a trembling nod. I felt like I was going to faint. “So tell me,” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, “which one of us is the other woman?”

3 He was silent for a long time. Then, finally, he told me the truth. We had been together for eight years. He had started cheating on me with Jessica in our second year together. “You had just been sent to the London office for that year and a half… we were apart so much. I’m a man, Sarah. I have needs.” “Jessica was an intern at my company. She… she confessed her feelings for me first.” “The first time, I was drunk. I thought she was you. I never thought… she got pregnant from that one time. With our son, Toby.” “And you know how my parents were pressuring me to get married. I knew you were focused on your career, and after your parents’ divorce, you were scared of marriage. I didn’t want to force you… and Jessica was pregnant, so…” I almost laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “So you married her?” His silence was his confession. “But I love you, Sarah! I swear, with Jessica it’s just… responsibility. You have to believe me!” He grabbed my hand, his grip desperate. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I shoved him away. This man was a complete stranger. During that year and a half I was in London, he had video-called me every single day. He told me where he was, what he was doing, every waking moment. Whenever he had a vacation, he would fly to see me. I remember one Valentine’s Day, he took three days off. He flew overnight, sick with a 102-degree fever, just to surprise me outside my apartment. I can still see it so clearly. His face pale and drawn, pulling out the gift he’d brought, telling me how much he loved me… And during that same year, he had not only cheated on me but married another woman. He had played me for a fool. For the next six years, every time he said he was working late or going on a business trip, he was going home to his other family. And early this year, he and Jessica had conceived their second child. The happiness I thought I had was more fragile than a soap bubble. It was all a lie. “Sarah…” Eric sobbed, his words choked and broken. “Please, forgive me. I really can’t live without you.” I just stared at him, the irony thick enough to choke on. “You still want to be with me?” He nodded frantically. “Then what about your wife and child?” “I already told Jessica. We have an open marriage. She won’t interfere in my life.” “As long as you don’t go near her, as long as you don’t upset her, she won’t cause any trouble for us.” I laughed. And then I ripped my hand from his grasp. “Eric, are you insane? You think you can have a wife and a mistress?” “Get out!” I grabbed the ashtray from the coffee table and hurled it to the floor. It shattered into a thousand pieces. I used every ounce of strength I had to shove him out the door. He stayed outside, begging and pleading. After a few minutes, his tone changed. The act was over. His voice was flat and dry. “Sarah, Toby has a fever. He needs his dad. I have to go.” Then, silence. My head felt heavy, my body light. A sheen of sweat covered my skin. I took my temperature. It was 104. I fell into a feverish, fitful sleep. When I woke up, Eric still wasn’t back. The fever had broken, and my mind was chillingly clear. I was done. I would not be trapped in this twisted triangle any longer. I had to cut Eric out of my life for good. I remembered Jessica’s username on the messaging app. I sent her a friend request. I didn’t beat around the bush. [Do you know that Eric is playing both of us? We need to meet.] After a long pause, she replied. [Okay.] I went back to her house. This time, the moment I stepped inside, I told her to unplug the security camera. I laid everything out for her, holding nothing back. “We’ve both been lied to,” I finished, my voice raw. “We’re both victims here. We should team up. We have to make that bastard pay.” Jessica listened quietly, her face a blank mask. “Are you finished?” she asked when I was done. “Sarah, did you really think I didn’t know about you?”