When I tried playing a prank on my husband, I discovered a secret about him that I would not have envisioned in a million years!
While trying to accept the secret, I found out something else that tore our marriage apart. The ultimate truth led me to divorce.
My husband and I have a fun marriage where we love to prank each other, and usually, it’s all in good fun.
But the last prank I tried playing on him definitely went off the rails! I work as a nurse and recently got a night off, so I came home earlier than usual.
Knowing my husband would be home soon, I decided to play a prank on him. I hid in the closet of our bedroom when I heard him come in and held my breath as he walked toward our bedroom.
But what I saw a minute later changed my life FOREVER!
Our married life had always been playful and full of surprises. We often pranked each other, turning mundane moments into joyous laughter. One time, I replaced the sugar in the sugar bowl with salt, and his face at the first sip of his coffee was priceless!
Not wanting to be outsmarted, he got me back by wrapping all my lunch items in gift wrap one by one!
That week was the worst as I had to unwrap everything I needed to use! We had a strong bond, or so I thought, and I believed we shared everything.
That night, I had planned to surprise him with one of my classic pranks. As I crouched in the closet, my heart pounded with excitement!
I heard the front door open and close, followed by the familiar sound of his footsteps.
The anticipation of seeing his shocked face made me grin in the dark. But then, I heard voices! His was calm and comforting, and a young woman’s sounded uncertain!
Through the crack in the closet door, I saw my husband entering our bedroom with a young woman!
To be honest, when I peeked through, I expected to see him on a phone call or talking to a neighbor. Instead, the man I thought I knew so well walked into our bedroom with a woman who couldn’t have been older than twenty! They embraced softly.
He told her, “You will spend the night on this bed tonight.
Make yourself comfortable.” My mind raced. Who was this girl? Why was she here?
I felt a lump forming in my throat, and I fought back the urge to burst out of the closet. I needed to understand what was happening.
The girl sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the room with wide eyes. She seemed nervous, unsure of what to do next.
My husband sat beside her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe here.”
I couldn’t take it any longer!
I burst out of the closet, my emotions a whirlwind of confusion and anger. “What is going on here? Are you cheating on me in my own house?!” I demanded, glaring at my husband.
He JUMPED UP his face a mask of shock and guilt.
The girl also got up abruptly, looking terrified. “It’s not what you think,” he stammered.
“Then explain it to me,” I snapped. “Who is she, and why is she in our bedroom?” The young girl had taken her place behind my husband, using him as a shield.
Her eyes were wide with shock, proving that she wasn’t aware of my existence.
My husband took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. “This is Chloe,” he began. “She’s… she’s my daughter.”
His words hit me like a freight train.
Daughter? How could that be? He had never mentioned having a daughter before.
“Your daughter?!” I repeated, my voice shaking and louder than I expected.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just found out myself a few weeks ago,” he said, his eyes pleading for understanding. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was afraid of how you’d react.”
Chloe looked down at her feet, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
My anger started to give way to confusion and a desperate need for answers. “Explain,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He sighed and began his story. “Twenty years ago, I had a one-night stand with a waitress I met at a bar.
I never saw her again, and I didn’t even know she was pregnant.” My husband continued, “When she discovered her pregnancy, she tried finding me but couldn’t and ended up raising Chloe alone.”
“A few weeks ago, I got a letter from Chloe. Her mother had discovered where I lived through social media when Chloe was thirteen,” he paused. “She wrote letters addressed to me over the years but was never brave enough to mail them.”
“Chloe’s mother sadly passed away before she could tell me about her and her about me.” I felt saddened by their tale and started softening up to Chloe’s presence.
“But our daughter found some of the old letters and tracked me down.
We did a DNA test, and it confirmed she’s mine.”
Although I sympathized with both of them, it still felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. This revelation was too much to process all at once. I looked at Chloe, who seemed as lost and scared as I was.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice breaking.
“We could have figured this out together.”
“I know,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry. I just… I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I have been letting her spend the night here when you work night shifts so I could get to know her,” my husband explained.
“I didn’t mean to keep this a secret for so long.”
The whole time he spoke, Chloe had this confused and doubtful look on her face that I couldn’t place. But I brushed it off as her being nervous.
We stood there in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on us. Finally, I turned to Chloe.
“You’re welcome to stay here,” I said gently. “But we need to talk about this.”
Over the next few days, we tried to adjust to this new reality.
His daughter stayed with us, sleeping on the couch in the living room while we did our best to make her feel at home. The plan was that we’d change my husband’s home office into a bedroom for her, but some doubt kept gnawing at me.
Something about my husband’s story didn’t sit right.
Don’t get me wrong, he seemed genuine, but there were too many unanswered questions. One evening, while he was out, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I found Chloe’s hairbrush and one of my husband’s combs and sent samples off for a DNA test. If they were truly related, I needed to know for sure.
The results came back a week later and my heart raced as I opened the envelope.
The test confirmed what I had feared… there was no genetic match! Chloe was not his daughter! My world shattered.
I felt a wave of betrayal crash over me. How could he lie about something so important? I waited for him to come home, my mind racing with what I would say.
When he walked through the door, I confronted him with the test results.
“You lied to me,” I said, my voice trembling with anger. “She’s NOT your daughter!” His face went pale, and he sank into a chair.
“I… I can explain,” he stammered.
“Then start talking,” I demanded, my patience wearing thin.
He took a deep breath and began to speak. “Her name isn’t Chloe, she’s Elizabeth… my lover.” I almost fell backward from the shock!
“We’ve been seeing each other for a few months,” he almost whispered.
“When her mother died, she needed a place to stay, and I thought I could keep it from you. I didn’t want to lose you.”
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page. Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
