I thought my marriage was solid until a glance at my wife’s payment statement revealed a strange pattern: expenses on baby items, pediatricians, and kindergarten, none of which made sense since we didn’t have kids. Confused and concerned, I followed her, only to uncover she was leading a double life.
As a 33-year-old lawyer, my specialty was infidelity and how to get the aggrieved person the best deal. But my knack for it changed my life.
One day, I was driving home through the bustling city as the sun set. My career had taught me the value of trust in marriage, a principle I cherished, especially now, being newly married to Natalie, the woman I deeply loved.
Fragment of a car parked | Source: Shutterstock
That evening, as I pulled into my driveway, the absence of Natalie’s car made me frown. She was usually home by this time, her punctuality being one of her defining traits. But things had changed recently as she was home much later than me these days.
The quiet house amplified my unease. The silence inside was unsettling, and due to my line of work, doubts raced through my mind. A particularly unwelcome yet persistent thought emerged: “Could Natalie be cheating on me?”
Fortunately, hours later, Natalie returned, looking exhausted, but I couldn’t contain my words. “Where have you been? You’ve been late a lot. Is there something you’re not telling me?” And finally, I asked if she was being unfaithful.
Her reaction was one of shock. “Hank, I love you. I could never cheat on you. I’ve just been busy grading tests at school,” she assured me, sighing. That made sense. Natalie was a dedicated teacher, so I nodded and tried to let it go.
Girl pointing finger on screen | Source: Shutterstock
But while sharing dinner and stories of our day, a message on Natalie’s phone shattered any semblance of peace. “Honey, will you be there tomorrow?” I glanced at it and was surprised by the intimacy.
She quickly deleted the message and tried to keep talking about her day.
I interrupted her without a second thought. “What was that?” I asked, my voice heavy with suspicion.
“What do you mean?” she looked puzzled or was faking her expression.
“The message. I saw what it said,” I pressed, frowning.
Sad tired young woman | Source: Shutterstock
Natalie sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Hank, it’s not what you think,” she tried to reassure me and showed me her phone to prove it was a wrong number.
But skepticism clouded my judgment, and my appetite vanished.
Later, in bed, the message replayed in my mind, not allowing me to sleep. Natalie lay beside me, seemingly peaceful, as she gently snored. My doubts grew, and I knew what I had to do. It was wrong, but I needed to know the truth.
Carefully, I used her finger to unlock her phone and found a contact named “Rabbit,” including conversations with an unknown number about getting together and happened on days Natalie had come home late.
Close-up of a hand holding a smartphone in bed | Source: Shutterstock
I also decided to check her bank statements. That was always a major clue in my cases. My heart sank as I pieced together the evidence of her secret life, including payments for children’s toys and hospital bills. Did she have a child I didn’t know about? Did she call the kid ‘Rabbit’?
More importantly, who was the father?
Natalie woke briefly, so I scrambled to put her phone discreetly away and pretended I was falling asleep. But inside, I was distraught. The idea of her leading a double life was overwhelming.
The next morning, I woke determined to follow Natalie to her work. I reached the school and parked discreetly, watching the entrance until Natalie suddenly appeared and drove off.
I followed, my heart pounding with each turn, until she stopped at a run-down house in a modest neighborhood. I waited a few minutes before exiting my car and peering through a window.
Man watching neighbours | Source: Shutterstock
I saw Natalie with a man, and the atmosphere between them was cozy. They were familiar with each other in an intimate way. I was sure of it, but my jaw dropped as I watched her lean forward and kiss the man on the cheek.
I wanted to investigate more and decided to hide in some bushes near the fence. That was when I saw Natalie emerging from the house, rolling a little girl in a wheelchair. They both smiled at each other, and I stared, mouth-agapped at them.
I was so mesmerized that I didn’t see a dog coming near me until its bark made me jump. It alerted Natalie, who looked around the yard, her eyes panicked. I tried to calm the dog. Then, I heard her.
“Who’s there? I’m calling the police!” Natalie yelled out, not recognizing me in the chaos. I ran off with the dog biting at my ankles and scrambled over the fence, ripping my pants in the process. I could only hope my wife didn’t recognize me.
Aggressive dog barks | Source: Shutterstock
Back in my car, the image of Natalie with the little girl in the wheelchair haunted me. I drove home, my mind swirling with fear, doubt, and dread about confronting my wife.
Once home, I changed my torn clothes and waited on the bed. Finally, hearing her car, I steeled myself and went to the living room. Natalie entered the house, apologizing for being late due to work.
I watched her, noticing her disheveled appearance, and cut to the chase, “Natalie, stop. I know everything.”
Frowning, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“I know you’re cheating on me,” I accused bluntly.
Boyfriend and girlfriend are arguing | Source: Shutterstock
She was taken aback, denying it and attributing her late nights to work. I pressed about the suspicious messages.
“Hank. You went into my phone?” she asked, appalled.
“Yes! Yes! I went into your phone. I’m the bad guy, right? It’s me spending money on another family,” I retorted, my words dripping with sarcasm and hurt.
Natalie was visibly shaken. “What are you talking about? What other family?”
“I saw everything, Natalie. I saw it with my own eyes. You don’t work late at school, but go to some man and girl,” I continued.
“You followed me?”
Emotional annoyed stressed couple | Source: Shutterstock
“Yes,” I confessed, unashamed.
“I can’t believe this,” Natalie threw her arms in the air and stomped to our bedroom. I waited a few seconds and followed, only to see her packing.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. A hotel or something,” she said, stuffing her bag roughly.
“Fine,” I snapped and turned to leave, but I saw her phone lying on the bed and grabbed it. Back in the living room, I installed a tracking app, just in case. Then, I went back to the bedroom, returning the phone to where she left it.
But I saw her face and the pain I had inflicted. I didn’t want to be angry anymore and started pleading with her to stay. “Let’s talk,” I said. “We can fix this. You don’t have to leave.”
Untidy Teenage Bedroom | Source: Shutterstock
“Yes, I do,” Natalie snapped, zipping her back. “And for your information, the man and child you saw are my brother and niece.”
I felt my eyebrows go up. “Why have I never met them before?!” I demanded. But she didn’t answer and went around me, ignoring me as I followed.
She slammed the front door, and I stayed back, reeling. In a fit of rage, I swept off the items on our mantel and screamed my frustrations out. Breathing heavily, I realized I needed to know more, so I searched our bedroom.
Shockingly, I discovered a hidden compartment in her wardrobe containing a gun, several fake passports, a bag of money, and a newspaper clipping about a bank robbery.
“What?” I breathed out. “Who did I marry?”
Man’s hand open Full Black Duffel Bag | Source: Shutterstock
I was in a daze. Wrapping the items in a bag, I placed them in my car’s trunk and drove to the hotel nearby, where Natalie must have been staying. Fortunately, I was right and discreetly bribed the receptionist to get Natalie’s room number.
I knocked outside her door, disguising my voice as room service. She opened the door and crossed her arms. “What else do you want to talk about, Hank? I already said I am not cheating on you,” she sighed.
“I believe you didn’t cheat on me,” I interrupted. I then presented the bag, asking her to explain the gun, fake documents, and money.
Natalie sighed, inviting me inside and admitting her involvement with bad people and a bank robbery to pay for her niece’s urgent surgery. I listened in shock, rubbing my chin as I processed.
Bank robbery of the century | Source: Shutterstock
“You robbed a bank?” I whispered.
“Yes,” she admitted quietly. “There was no other way. My ‘Rabbit’…I mean, my niece, Katie, was dying. My brother, Tom, didn’t have the money. I had to do something. This was before you and I even met.”
“We have to tell the police, Nat. But my friend, Luke, is the best criminal defense attorney in the state,” I began, my lawyer mind planning. “You can’t live this double life, waiting for the sword to drop. Come home with me, and we’ll think of a solution.”
Natalie stared into my eyes, and I saw all the fear she must have felt for years since her bank robbery. But I held her hand. I’d be there for her through it all. Finally, she nodded, and we drove home.
At home, Natalie made tea, and we sat at the kitchen table to drink it. I talked about contacting Luke, who could help her get a good deal, but my eyes got droopy all of a sudden. I remembered Natalie guiding me to my bed but nothing else.
Close-up of man holding knife | Source: Shutterstock
I woke up disoriented the next morning. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head. A strange redness in the sheets caught my attention, and when my vision focused, I saw a knife covered in blood on the other side of the bed.
I remembered the tea, and it all clicked. Did she want to frame me? To pretend she was dead?
“Natalie!” I screamed, standing and swaying on my feet. I noticed a trail of blood leading out of the bedroom, and I gasped at the state of my place. The house was in disarray. Furniture was overturned, and the living room was a scene of destruction, worse than what I had done last night.
I kept calling for my wife. I tried to wipe some of the blood with my hand, but it only made it worse. Finally, I saw movement outside, and I peered through the blinds. Two policemen were talking to my neighbor, and I heard him mention screaming coming from our house.
I looked sideways, and my car looked like it had been driven through rough terrain, but I had no memory of leaving the house. The two cops came over and started knocking, but I scrambled to the bedroom, dressed, grabbed Natalie’s pistol, and jumped out of the window.
Male eyes spying through roller blind | Source: Shutterstock
They saw and ran after me, but I knew the neighborhood better. I kept thinking I needed to find Natalie and understand the truth. But I couldn’t do that if I was caught. The scene at the house was too crazy. Natalie had done an excellent job trying to appear like I had hurt her.
I hid somewhere and saw the two cops running off in the opposite direction. I waited, feeling worse by the second. After a while, I cautiously emerged from my hiding spot, using the tracking app on my phone to find my wife while my fingers trembled.
The app led me to an empty road, where I found Natalie’s phone discarded in the tall grass, a clear sign that all this had been on purpose. Frustrated but not deterred, I decided to visit Natalie’s brother’s house.
Taking a taxi, I arrived at his place and knocked relentlessly. When Tom opened it, I didn’t waste time on pleasantries. I pulled out the gun, aiming it at his face, and, with a steady hand, I walked in as he retreated with his hands in the air.
Revolver in hand | Source: Shutterstock
Once in, I demanded he call Natalie immediately. When the call connected, I didn’t mince words.
“Hi, Natalie. You sound very much alive for someone who’s supposed to be dead. Contrary to your plans, I haven’t been detained. But Tom here isn’t doing so well. I have a gun pointed at him, and if you don’t come here within the next 6 hours, I will kill both Tom and Katie.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” she gasped.
I scoffed angrily. “Want to test me? I don’t think so.”
“Hank, please,” Natalie begged.
I cut her off. “You have 6 hours.”
Beauty girl cry | Source: Shutterstock
***
I waited, the gun never leaving my hand as Tom and his daughter sat on the opposite couch. I knew I was supposed to feel bad, but I was beyond caring at that point.
The front door burst open, and my wife walked in. She froze after seeing her pistol and her brother and niece scared. “Hank, I beg you. Let them go,” Natalie begged.
“Why did you do this, Nat? Why did you fake your death?” I stood in a flash, spitting my questions.
“I don’t want to go to prison. You wanted to turn me in. I couldn’t take that risk.”
“I love you, Natalie. We could have faced everything together,” I spat.
“But in prison, I would have been alone,” she said, looking away.
Handcuffs | Source: Shutterstock
My lips were shaking as I tried to come up with a solution that wouldn’t destroy our lives, but the police startled us, coming into the house with their arms out. They went right at me, and I knew I deserved to be arrested for threatening Tom and Katie, but I told them everything my wife did.
With her eyes down, Natalie finally admitted the truth, and they arrested her. As they took her away, our eyes met one last time, a silent goodbye.
I turned to Tom then. “I’m truly sorry for all the anxiety I caused you. I didn’t want to, but I needed Natalie to come, and this was the only way.”
The police arrested me, too. Sitting in the patrol car, I tried to justify my actions, “Understand, I had no other choice. I needed her to come.”
Police lights at night in the city | Source: Shutterstock
“No goal justifies threatening anyone at gunpoint. You should’ve called the police, explained what happened, and let us handle it.”
Reflecting on those words, I realized the magnitude of my missteps and how I wished I could go back and start over. But I could only do better in the future, starting by calling Luke. I desperately needed his help.
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A man took me to Paris for our first date, but I blocked him immediately after he paid the bill
One moment, she’s sipping champagne in Paris, the next, she’s fleeing for her life. Rachel’s fairytale date in the City of Love spirals into a nightmare when she discovers her dreamy boyfriend’s sinister past. Can she escape before she’s next?
Do you believe in love at first sight? I know, I know… it’s a bit cliché, but I couldn’t help but wonder. I’m Rachel, a 30-year-old woman living her American dream in downtown Chicago. My life was simple—wake up, go to work, grab a coffee from the local shop, and occasionally indulge in a good book. That was until Robert walked into my life…
I met him at a charming little bookstore I frequented. We both reached for the same copy of “Pride and Prejudice”—classic, right? Our eyes met, and we both laughed.
“Well, this is quite the meet-cute,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I’m Robert.”
“Rachel,” I replied, feeling a flutter in my stomach. “Are you a Jane Austen fan?”
“Guilty as charged,” he chuckled. “Though I must admit, Darcy Burke sets a rather high bar for us mere mortals.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness as I picked a book from the shelf. “I think there’s something to be said for modern-day charm.”
We chatted for nearly an hour, discovering shared interests and laughing at each other’s jokes. As we were about to part ways, Robert hesitated.
“I know this might seem forward,” he said, “but would you like to grab a coffee sometime? I know a great little place around the corner.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. “I’d love to,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
From that moment, things just clicked. We exchanged numbers, and before I knew it, we were texting every day.
“Hey, Rachel, ever been to Paris?” Robert asked one evening after weeks of chatting.
“Only in my dreams,” I replied, chuckling. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. “We’ve been talking for weeks, and I feel like I’ve known you forever. But we haven’t actually been on a proper date yet.”
“That’s true,” I said, my curiosity piqued. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about making that dream a reality? Come with me. Let’s have our first date in Paris.”
I was stunned. “Paris? For a first date? Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” Robert replied. “Life’s too short for ordinary, don’t you think? We could spend a weekend there, see the sights, eat amazing food. What do you say?”
I hesitated, my mind racing. “That sounds incredible, but… isn’t it a bit much for a first date? We barely know each other.”
“I understand your hesitation,” Robert said softly. “But think about it… we’ve been talking every day for weeks. We know each other better than most people do on a first date. It’s just a chance to get to know each other better in a magical setting.”
His words were persuasive, and the allure of an adventure was too strong to resist. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s do it!”
“Really?” Robert sounded elated as he kissed my hand. “You won’t regret this, Rachel. It’ll be amazing, I promise.”
Soon, the day of our departure arrived. When I met Robert at the airport, he greeted me with the most stunning bouquet of red roses I’d ever seen. It felt surreal. He looked genuinely happy, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Ready for an adventure to remember?” he asked, smiling.
“As ready as I’ll ever be!” I chuckled. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“Neither can I,” Robert admitted. “But I’m so glad we are. You look beautiful, by the way.”
I felt myself blush. “Thank you. You look great, too!”
The flight was smooth, and before I knew it, we were in Paris.
Robert called a taxi, and we went straight to this swanky restaurant. The place was fancy, with chandeliers and a pianist playing softly in the corner.
“This place is incredible,” I said, looking around in awe. “How did you find it?”
Robert smiled mysteriously. “I have my ways. I wanted our first date to be unforgettable.”
Hours melted away as we talked, champagne bubbles tickling our noses. We savored an exquisite meal, our laughter echoing between bites as we shared stories. For a moment, it felt like a fairytale.
When the bill came, Robert insisted on paying. “It’ll make me happy if you let me,” he said, his eyes earnest.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “It must be expensive.”
“Absolutely,” he replied as he paid the bill. “Tonight is my treat. You can get the next one,” he added with a wink.
“Alright, thank you,” I said, excusing myself to the restroom.
In the restroom, I was fixing my makeup when a woman approached me. She looked serious, almost scared.
“You need to leave, now,” she said, her voice low and urgent.
“What? Why?” I asked, confused. “Who are you?”
“My name is Cindy,” she replied, glancing nervously at the door. “I’m a detective from the States. Robert isn’t who he seems.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, feeling a pang of fear and disbelief.
“I’ve been tracking him,” Cindy continued. “He’s brought at least eight women to this restaurant in the past six months. Some went missing, others lost their jobs and disappeared. You could be next.”
My heart pounded. “This is crazy. How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“I know this is hard to believe, but you need to trust me on this. Block his number and leave,” she desperately added, frowning.
I felt a wave of fear and disbelief. “But he’s been so kind… and genuine. Are you sure you have the right person?”
“I’m positive,” Cindy insisted. “Men like Robert are experts at appearing charming. It’s how they lure their victims. Please, for your own safety, you need to go.”
Without saying another word, I nodded, blocked Robert’s number on my phone, and rushed back to the table. Robert looked up, puzzled.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I said, my voice trembling.
“Go?? Rachel, what’s going on?” he asked, standing up. “You look pale. Are you feeling alright?”
“I can’t explain. Don’t try to find me,” I said, turning and heading for the door.
“Rachel, wait!” Robert called after me. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something?”
I got into a taxi and told the driver to take me to the airport. Sitting in the back seat, I finally began to calm down. Cindy’s words echoed in my mind. Was Robert really dangerous?
When I arrived at the airport, my stomach dropped. Robert was there, waiting for me.
“Please, Rachel, talk to me,” he said, approaching me cautiously. “What did I do wrong?”
“This trip was a mistake. Just leave me alone,” I said, trying to stay calm.
“It’s all because of her, isn’t it?” he asked, his face etched with anger and sadness.
“Who?” I was genuinely confused.
“A woman around thirty, blonde hair, flower tattoo on her right arm? Name’s Cindy.”
“Yes, she said she’s a detective. Is that true?” I gasped.
Robert’s face fell. “She’s not a detective,” he confessed. “She’s my ex-girlfriend. She’s been obsessed with me… stalking me for two years, ruining my relationships. I didn’t tell you because I thought it was over. I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t know what to believe. “You should have told me about her. Now I’m scared and can’t trust you.”
“I understand,” Robert said softly. “I made a mistake by not being honest with you. I was afraid that if I told you about Cindy, you’d think I was damaged goods or something. I really like you, Rachel, and I didn’t want to scare you away.”
“But now I’m more scared than ever,” I replied, feeling tears well up in my eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” Robert said, reaching out but stopping short of touching me. “Please, let me help you get back to the States. You can take the ticket I bought. I’ll stay here and come back tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, still wary.
“Absolutely,” he nodded. “Your safety and comfort are what matter most to me right now. I hope that one day, when you’re back home and feeling safe, you’ll give me a chance to explain everything properly.”
On the flight home, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened. Who was telling the truth?
Once I was back in Chicago, I decided to find out more about Robert and Cindy.
I contacted a private detective. Over the next few days, I found some of the women Robert had dated. They were alive and well but confirmed that Cindy had harassed them, forcing them to quit their jobs and disappear from Robert’s life.
This supported Robert’s story, but I still had doubts.
One evening, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
“Hello?” I nervously answered.
“It’s Cindy. Robert is dangerous. I’m just trying to protect you,” a woman spoke.
“Cindy? How did you get my number?” I asked, my heart racing.
“That’s not important,” she replied urgently. “What matters is that you understand the danger you’re in.”
I listened as she detailed Robert’s supposed manipulations and sent me a file of disturbing information about his past.
“But why should I believe you?” I asked. “The other women I spoke to said you were the one harassing them.”
“They’re afraid of him,” Cindy insisted. “Robert has a way of making people believe whatever he wants them to. Please, you have to trust me.”
Unsure of who to believe, I agreed to meet Cindy at a café. She seemed sincere and provided more evidence against Robert.
But a shiver ran down my spine as I listened. Despite her convincing story, a shadow of doubt lingered. My gut told me Robert held the missing piece.
I decided to confront him.
He looked genuinely distressed and denied everything, showing me a restraining order he had against Cindy.
“Rachel, I know this whole situation is confusing and scary,” Robert said. “But I swear to you, I’ve never hurt anyone. Cindy is the one who’s been causing all this trouble. I should have told you about her from the beginning, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“But why would she go to such lengths?” I asked, still uncertain.
“She… she has some mental health issues,” Robert explained hesitantly. “When we broke up, she couldn’t accept it. She became obsessed with the idea that I was some kind of predator. I’ve tried to get her help, but she refused.”
As I reflected on the situation, it became clear that Robert and Cindy each held their own perspective on the truth. The actual reality, I suspected, lay somewhere in the middle of their conflicting narratives.
Recognizing the potential danger to my well-being, I decided to cut ties with both of them.
During our last exchange, I mustered up the courage to tell Robert, “I’m afraid I can’t continue being a part of this, Robert. The situation has become far too intricate and perplexing for me to handle.”
With those words, Robert and I went our separate ways.
This whirlwind experience served as a powerful lesson in the importance of trusting my gut instincts and exercising caution when allowing new people into my life.
While the dream trip to Paris had been thrilling, it also served as a sobering reminder that appearances can be deceiving. I learned that sometimes, the wisest course of action to protect yourself is to walk away from trouble.
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