My Husband Called Her Late-night Flirty Pic A Mistake

“You moaned my name like you’d die without me. Were you lying then too, Jack?”

My voice was trembling—but not from desire. From rage. From pain.

Jack’s body was still warm against mine, sweat still clinging to our skin as we lay tangled on the couch. Just minutes ago, he had taken me like a starving man—kissing me like he couldn’t breathe, thrusting like he had something to prove.

He hovered over me now, his lips ghosting across my collarbone, voice low and possessive. “Baby, don’t ruin this moment. I’ve been gone all week thinking about this—about you.”

My fingers brushed his tousled hair—soft, familiar… traitorous. I grabbed his phone from the cushion behind me and turned the screen to his face.

“Then explain this, Jack.”

A woman. A red slip. Cleavage. Texts that left no room for doubt.

Jack’s smile vanished. And so did the last shred of my trust.

----

I was three months pregnant when I found out my husband, Jack Monroe—the man I’d been with for eight years—was f*cking someone else.

Not just any someone. A woman who called herself "Pete Toby," who wore lingerie and sent selfies laced with lust and lies. The message wasn’t meant for me. But fate—cruel, deliberate fate—delivered it straight into my trembling hands.

[I think my new nightie is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?]

There was a picture of a woman in a low V-neck red slip dress, her cleavage partly exposed, exuding s*x.

My grip on the phone tightened. I scrolled up and noticed Jack and Pete's previous exchanges were purely work-related, which made me pout. 'Was the message an error? Or.'

A hand wrapped around my waist from behind, destroying my train of thought.

Jack nuzzled his warm body against me and gently bit my earlobe. "Honey, I'm all showered. Do you want to do it on the bed or the couch?"

I could not answer before Jack picked me up and set me down on the couch, his towering height looming over me.

"Since you are not talking, I will make the decision. Let us do it on the couch," Jack murmured, his voice gravelly and his eyes gleaming with a flicker of fire that made me blush instantly.

I was lovely regardless, and the slight flush on my cheeks made me look like a tasty, ripe, juicy peach in the light.

Jack's eyes grew darker. He leaned to kiss me, but I suddenly turned my head away.

Sensing my resistance, he looked at me in confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?"

Jack, usually confident in the workplace, now looked at me with a hurt-confusion mix that softened my heart for the time being. No matter, I was not letting go of the naked selfie I'd just caught a glimpse of. I stopped him with one hand on his chest while using the other to bring his phone to his face, screen showing. "Explain this first."

Jack glanced at the screen and frowned immediately, taking the phone to make a call. It was answered right away.

"Mr. Monroe, what can I do for you?"

Jack's scowl deepened, and his voice turned cold. "I wasn't aware that my secretary started soliciting clients."

There was a pause, then Pete's voice, in a panic, came through. "M-Mr. Monroe, I'm sorry. That message was for my boyfriend. I must have accidentally sent it to you."

"Next time it happens, pack your bags and go!" Jack hung up and faced me, his face softening, despite the hint of complaint. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so don't waste time on someone not worth it. We haven't seen each other for a week. You owe me tonight."

Jack pulled me in for a kiss, but I was not in a good mood despite the issue being settled. I wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow."

Jack's eyes flashed with disappointment, but he did not insist. "Okay, you sleep first. I'm not sleepy yet, so I'll go to the study to do some work." "Okay."

It started raining heavily in the early hours of the morning.

The sound woke me, and I reached out only to feel the chill emptiness beside me. I glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m.

I couldn't help but speculate whether Jack was still at the office.

I got up, put on a robe, and tiptoed to the study, but it was dark and empty. My hand tightened on the door handle, and my heart dropped.

My phone suddenly rang, startling me in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a message from a stranger, I had a premonition that opening it would be a point of no return for Jack and me.

A thunderclap outside startled me and I accidentally pressed it.

[Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?]

[I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.]

[Don't you want to know where your husband is?]

My hands trembled uncontrollably when I read the messages and the boasting tone. After a while, a message with an address and a series of numbers came through.

I bit my lip, grabbed my car keys, and drove straight there.

It was after 4:00 a.m. when I reached the villa.

I entered the code, and the door opened.

The living room lights were on. A suit and lingerie were strewn from the door to the bedroom door, indicating how frantic they had been. I couldn't help but feel a touch of absurdity as I noticed the ripped red nightgown on the bedroom door.

Although the bedroom was some meters away from the entrance, it took an eternity for me to reach it. I was light-headed and dizzy as I stood before the bedroom door. I extended my shaking hand and gradually pushed the half-open door.

The vision of the disheveled bed and the naked couple embracing— their labored breathing permeating the air—cut through my heart. The couple was so caught up that they did not see me standing there.

My hand on the doorframe turned white from gripping it too hard, with red marks on my palm. I had been with Jack for eight years, from high school through marriage, the envy of everyone who knew us. Until today, I had never once considered betrayal between us.

Now reality kicked me hard. Not even the most sincere wedding vows could withstand a fickle heart.

Unable to bear the sight, I turned and stumbled out, driving away. I drove by a bar on the way and decided to enter.

I was already on my second bottle of whiskey when Zara Ozziy walked in, my vision slightly blurred. "Zara, you're here."

Scowling at the sight of me surrounded by several men, Zara ordered, "All of you, leave!"

"No, they're fine here—"

"I said, get out!" Having shooed the men away, Zara sat down beside me. "What's wrong? Did Jack actually cheat on you?"

Zara was my roommate in college and had watched me go through my relationship with Jack from school to marriage. She had witnessed Jack treating me well all these years and could not believe that he would cheat. My eyes lost their luster at the mention of Jack's name, and the sore ache returned. "I don't want to hear that name right now."