I sold my parents’ house and my car to fund my husband’s dream farm. I trusted him completely until one call on my way to the bank made me wonder who he was really building that life for. I sat on the edge of our old bed early in the morning and watched Jake sleep.
He always slept so peacefully, like there were no debts, no bills. I touched his shoulder gently. “Jake.
Wake up. We agreed I’d take the money to the bank today.”
He rubbed his eyes sleepily. “Morning, baby.
You’re up early again, huh?”
I got up to make his coffee. So he could sit in our kitchen and dream about his farm. Five minutes later, he was already standing in the kitchen doorway.
He reached for his mug, and sat down across from me. “Martha, you know I love you, right? You’re my rock.
You’re everything I’ve got.”
I just smiled. “Tell me again. What are we going to do?”
Jake set the mug aside and spread his arms wide, like he was already holding the whole farm in them.
“We’ll have our own land, fresh milk, no chemicals. People will come from all over the country. Our name on every jar.
And that’s just the beginning!”
“And the kids? When will we finally be able to send Benny to a decent school?”
“Soon, baby, soon. It’ll all work out.
You sold the lake house — that’s the beginning.”
I nodded. That little lake house was the last memory I had of Mom and Dad. But if it would help my husband build his dream…
I glanced at the envelope on the shelf.
“I adore you, you know that?” Jake leaned closer, brushed his fingers over my cheek. “No one’s ever done as much for me as you have.”
“Because we’re family, Jake. You promised — the farm is our dream together.”
Jake kissed my forehead, so soft I almost believed him.
“Nothing’s gonna happen to us. You’ve always been my lucky charm.”
And while he whispered those sweet words, I was already packing up to head to the bank. I really wanted to help my husband stand on his own two feet.
But I didn’t know that just ten minutes after that conversation, one phone call would turn my whole life upside down. ***
I stood at the bus stop and felt the cold slip right through my coat. The ride to the bank would’ve only taken twenty minutes.
I kept picturing how I’d hand that money over to the teller, how Jake would hug me afterward. But deep down I wondered… My thoughts spun so loud that I almost didn’t hear the phone buzz inside my purse.
I pulled it out and looked at the screen. ALEX. I squinted.
I didn’t remember any Alex among my friends. I tapped the green button. The voice was a woman’s.
Soft. Syrupy, like honey sliding off a spoon. “You’re not answering.
Did she leave already? I’m so tired of waiting. I’ve been waiting for you all night…”
My throat tightened so hard I could barely breathe.
I hit END CALL without saying a word. What was that?.. I looked down at the phone.
The same old crack in the corner, the worn-out case… The phone wasn’t mine! I tore through my purse, flipped everything upside down.
Of course. Jake and I switched phones that morning. I had HIS phone.
ALEX. Her voice kept ringing in my ears. I didn’t go to the bank.
I ducked into the nearest coffee shop instead, ordered a cup, but didn’t take a single sip. The phone lay there on the table in front of me. I just stared at the messages my husband hadn’t even bothered to hide.
“See you in thirty minutes.” / “Miss you already.”
Suddenly, it hit me. What if… what if I didn’t let him know I knew? What if I just watched him instead?
He had to come back for his phone. I could pull that off. I hurried back home, slipped into the house quietly, and placed the phone on the kitchen table like it had never left.
And sure enough, Jake came back. I watched him through the kitchen window. He winked at me.
“Hey! Did you see my phone?”
“On the table. Right where you left it.”
Not today, Jake.
Not anymore. I watched him fire off a quick text and leave again. He didn’t even kiss me goodbye.
“I’ll be late! Meetings. Don’t wait up!”
Yeah, right.
Meetings. I slipped out behind him. My heart thudded under my jacket like a bird trapped in my ribs.
I jumped into the first cab I saw (the kind that always shows up in the movies). We stopped outside a little house with green shutters. I could hear her voice through an open window — bright, sweet, sticky.
I sat in the back seat, watching Jake wrap his arms around a pretty blond woman. I wanted to see HER eyes. So, I waited until Jake drove off.
Then I stepped out of the cab and headed straight for that house with the green shutters. ***
Alex couldn’t have been older than thirty. Blonde hair falling around her shoulders, an oversized sweater slipping off one side.
She blinked at me, confused. I took a breath that scraped my ribs raw. “I think you can.
I’m Jake’s wife.”
For a second, she just stared. Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut again. “That’s right.
Martha. The woman paying the bills. The one he’s building his dream farm with.”
She let out a half-laugh, half-scoff, but there was nothing funny in her eyes.
She swung the door wider. I stepped in. I could see her hands trembling.
“Why are you here? To call me a witch? Tell me to stay away?”
I almost laughed.
God, what a mess we’d let him make. “Who are you to my husband? Why did he come here instead of going to the business meeting?”
Alex’s eyes darted away, but she lifted her chin.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
