Newlywed bliss shatters when Sarah’s husband, Jake, accuses her of cheating after “smelling cologne” in their bedroom. Alone and humiliated, Sarah pieces together the truth — and it’s far from what Jake expected.
It had only been two weeks since Jake and I said our vows. Two weeks of riding that post-wedding glow like it was some invincible wave. It felt like we were untouchable. No one told me how quickly that feeling could collapse.
A happy woman | Source: Midjourney
Jake’s mom had the accident on a Sunday morning. I was folding laundry when he got the call. One second, he was tapping his phone on the counter, scrolling through some meme page, and the next, his face drained of color.
“Mom’s hurt,” he said, already pulling on his hoodie. “Dad accidentally hit her with the car.” His voice cracked on that last part. “Her hip… it’s bad. She needs an urgent replacement.”
I grabbed the keys for him. “I’ll drive.”
Car keys | Source: Pexels
“No, no. I’ll be faster.” His eyes met mine, wild and unfocused. “I’ll call you when I know more.”
He kissed me on the side of my head, and then he was gone. Just like that. I stood in the kitchen, the faint smell of detergent in the air, trying to process what he’d just said. His dad hit his mom with the car?
Hours later, he called to say he’d be staying at his parents’ house to help care for her post-surgery. I told him it was fine. It was. What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t understand that?
A woman holding a cell phone | Source: Midjourney
Three days later, on Wednesday morning, I was halfway out the door for work when I heard the front lock turn behind me. My heart jumped. Jake?
He stepped in wearing the same hoodie and worn jeans. He grinned when he saw me, but as I hurried forward to greet him, he stopped in his tracks. His nose crinkled and his eyes darted across the apartment like he was searching for something.
“Hey, babe! I didn’t know you were coming back today,” I said.
A man in an apartment | Source: Midjourney
He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look at me, just kept scanning the place. Then his eyes locked on me, hard as stone.
“Who’s been here?” he asked, his voice sharp as a blade.
“What?” I blinked, stunned. “No one’s been here, Jake. It’s just me.”
He tilted his head toward the bedroom. “Then why does it smell like cologne in there?”
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
I laughed, but it came out too light, too nervous. “Cologne? What are you talking about?”
“You tell me,” he shot back, stepping past me toward the bedroom. “Smells like a man’s been in here.”
I stared after him, frowning. “Maybe it’s something from outside,” I offered. “Maybe it’s… I don’t know. The windows were open all day yesterday.”
A woman shrugging | Source: Midjourney
My phone buzzed then. It was a text from a colleague letting me know the boss was looking for me.
“I’ve got to rush,” I called out. “I’m already running late and now Mrs. Thompson is asking for me! See you later, babe!”
I hurried out the door. Work was crazy that day, and I couldn’t wait to get home to Jake. I’d missed him so much while he was away. But when I got home that night, I knew something was wrong.
Apartment corridor | Source: Pexels
My key didn’t fit. I yanked it out, checked it, and tried again, but it was useless. I peered at the doorknob like a fool, and that’s when it hit me: Jake had changed the locks.
I banged on the door and called for Jake, but he didn’t reply. So I called his phone. It rang once before going straight to voicemail. I called again. Same thing. Texts went unanswered, too.
I sat on the stairs of our apartment complex, head in my hands, feeling too stunned to cry. I thought about calling the landlord, but what would I even say?
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I had nowhere else to go, so I went to my mom’s place. She was shocked to see me, and just as confused as I was when I tried to explain why I was there.
“Why don’t you try calling Jake’s brother?” she suggested, placing a cup of tea in front of me. “Those two are so close… if anyone can help you figure out what’s going on, it’s Nick.”
“You’re right,” I muttered, wiping my eyes.
Tears in a woman’s eye | Source: Pexels
I stepped into the living room with my tea and called Nick. He picked up on the third ring.
“Hey,” I said, breathless. “Have you talked to Jake?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice colder than I’d ever heard it. “He doesn’t want to talk to you.”
I stood up, gripping the phone tighter. “What? What are you talking about?”
A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
“Look, Sarah,” he sighed like he was tired of me already. “He knows what you did. You should just own it.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth. “Are you serious right now?” I whispered. “What are you even talking about, Nick?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
He hung up.
A cell phone | Source: Pexels
I immediately texted Jake again, demanding to know why he was mad at me. This time, he replied.
“You cheated on me while I was looking after Mom. Our apartment stinks of your lover’s cologne! How dare you bring another man into our bed?”
I couldn’t believe what I was reading, but it didn’t stop there.
A woman staring at her cell phone | Source: Midjourney
Another text arrived from Jake.
“Our marriage is over! I’ve told my whole family what you’ve done…”
Tears flooded my eyes as I read all the cruel names he called me after that. Jake and I had been together for five years… how could he think I’d be unfaithful to him only two weeks into our marriage?
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
More texts arrived in quick succession, but these were from Jake’s mom.
“Return the ring. It’s not yours anymore. It was $19,000, and we’re not letting you walk away with it.”
My breath caught in my throat. I sat up straighter, staring at my screen in shock.
“Jake is meeting with a lawyer tomorrow. An annulment can be done quickly since it’s only been 2 weeks.”
A woman holding a cell phone | Source: Midjourney
An annulment? Before I could finish processing that, the next text arrived.
“We’ll be sending your things soon. Tell us if you’d rather have them dropped off or shipped.”
My fingers curled into the blanket on my lap, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping me grounded. I kept reading the messages until I finally turned off my phone.
A woman holding a cell phone | Source: Pexels
I sat there, staring at the little gold band on my finger, wondering how we got here. Two weeks ago, we were untouchable.
I didn’t sleep that night. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning. By 2 a.m., I was replaying every little detail, looking for a clue.
And then it hit me: the wipes.
A woman holding wipes | Source: Pexels
The smell in our apartment wasn’t cologne. It was the lemon-cedarwood wipes I’d taped behind the fan in our bedroom. I’d done it on purpose after cooking fish for dinner — Jake hated the smell of fish.
My heart started pounding so hard it felt like it might break my ribs. I grabbed my phone and texted him.
“Check behind the fan. Look in the bathroom trash for the packaging. It’s the wipes, Jake. It’s not cologne. It’s not a man. It’s the wipes.”
A woman texting | Source: Midjourney
Then I waited.
The next morning, I was sitting with my mom at the kitchen table, trying to act like I hadn’t just experienced the emotional collapse of my life. My coffee was cold, and I didn’t care. My phone buzzed.
Jake.
I looked up at my mom, and she nodded. “Go on, baby.”
A mature woman | Source: Midjourney
I walked to the door. Through the window, I saw him standing there. Shoulders slouched. His eyes were red. His hands shook as he wiped at his face.
He knocked once. Just once.
I opened the door but didn’t say anything. I just watched him.
“Sarah,” he choked out, his face crumpling. “I’m so sorry.”
A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
I folded my arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Are you?”
“It was a mistake,” he said, voice cracking. “I-I let my head get… I wasn’t thinking. I just—” He looked up at me, eyes wild. “Please come home.”
My breath hitched, and before I knew it, I was stepping forward, arms wrapping around him. His warmth crashed into me, his breath shaky against my hair. Relief poured out of him in a broken sob, and for a moment, I let myself believe it was going to be okay.
A couple hugging | Source: Midjourney
I went home with Jake that evening, but I couldn’t get over what had happened. I couldn’t stop thinking about the lock change, the cruel texts, and Jake’s mom demanding my ring back like I was a thief.
The names Jake had called me circled my thoughts. One little misunderstanding was all it had taken for him and all his family to turn on me. We’d known each other for five years… we were supposed to be family.
The next night, I packed my things.
Suitcases on a bed | Source: Pexels
I carried my suitcase out into the living room, where Jake was watching TV.
“I’ve been thinking…” I started, leaning over to switch off the TV as I spoke, “about how quick you were to believe I was cheating on you, how you refused to talk things through with me, how easy it was for you to throw me out like trash.”
“Baby, I said I’m sorry.” He stared at me like he couldn’t believe this still bothered me.
A man on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“I know, but saying sorry doesn’t mean we aren’t broken, Jake.”
“I’ll make it right, I swear! I love you.”
I shook my head, slow and steady. “Love doesn’t change the locks on me. Love doesn’t end with a text.”
His face twisted with regret. “Please.”
A sad man | Source: Midjourney
“I’m going back to my mom’s,” I said, grabbing my suitcase and heading for the door. “I need space.”
“Sarah, please!”
But I shut the door.
For the next week, he sent me long, heartbroken texts. Pages of apologies. I read them all. I didn’t reply.
A woman frowning at her phone | Source: Midjourney
I lay awake at night, thinking about it. If someone else told me this story, I’d laugh at how stupid it sounded. He thought it was cologne. It was lemon wipes. But I didn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny.
Two weeks into marriage, and I’d already learned this much: People who love you don’t turn on you that fast.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Entitled Guy on Plane Treats Flight Attendant Like Trash, Orders Her to Clean His Shoes – But Karma Hits Him Hard Immediately
When an entitled businessman, Todd, boards a flight and begins berating the flight attendant, his arrogance hits a new low when he demands she clean his shoes mid-flight. But karma strikes fast when a powerful stranger steps in, flipping the script in a shocking twist.
I settled into my first-class seat, grateful for the perk of a free upgrade after a grueling week of business meetings.
Interior of an airplane | Source: Unsplash
The quiet hum of the cabin was a welcome respite from the chaos of the airport. I closed my eyes, ready to savor these moments of peace before takeoff.
But the universe had other plans.
The unmistakable sound of expensive shoes on the carpet caught my attention. I cracked open an eye to see a man strutting down the aisle like he owned the plane.
Everything about him screamed “I’m better than you,” from his perfectly tailored suit to the designer sunglasses perched on his nose.
A man on a plane | Source: Midjourney
Even in first class, he stood out.
As he approached his seat across the aisle from me, I caught the eye of Samantha, our flight attendant. She gave me a warm smile, but I noticed a flicker of… something in her eyes. Resignation? She’d clearly dealt with his type before.
“Welcome aboard, sir,” Samantha said, her voice professional and pleasant. “Can I help you with your bag?”
A flight attendant | Source: Midjourney
The man (I’d later learn his name was Todd) barely glanced at her.
“It’s fine,” he muttered, shoving his carry-on into the overhead bin with more force than necessary.
I sighed internally. It was going to be one of those flights.
As the rest of the passengers filed in, Todd made himself comfortable, spreading out like a peacock. He snapped his fingers at Samantha, who was helping an elderly woman to her seat.
“Hey, you,” he barked. “I need a drink.”
A man on a plane | Source: Midjourney
Samantha finished assisting the woman before turning to Todd with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course, sir. What can I get for you?”
Todd didn’t even look up from his phone. “Scotch. Make it fast.”
I watched as Samantha’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “I’ll get that for you right away, sir.”
A few minutes later, she returned with his drink. Todd took one sip and wrinkled his nose like a toddler presented with broccoli.
A glass | Source: Pexels
“This tastes horrible,” he spat. “You call this service? Get me another one.”
Samantha’s face remained a mask of calm, but I could see the strain around her eyes. “I’ll be right back, sir,” she replied before heading off to prepare another drink.
When she returned with the second scotch, Todd didn’t even bother to thank her. Instead, he looked down at his shoes, which had the tiniest speck of dust on them. What happened next made my blood boil.
A pair of shoes | Source: Pexels
Todd kicked his foot out towards Samantha and sneered, “While you’re at it, clean my shoes! You’re here to serve me, aren’t you?”
The entire cabin went silent. I felt my fingernails digging into my palms as I clenched my fists.
Samantha froze for a moment, and I could see the muscles in her jaw working as she forced a smile. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not able to assist with that.”
Todd scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Then what are you here for?”
A man on a plane waving | Source: Midjourney
“You should be thankful someone like me is even flying with this airline,” he continued. “The least you can do is keep the drinks coming and make yourself useful. Who knows? I might even tip you.”
I nearly choked. Tip her? On a plane? Who did this guy think he was?
Samantha, ever the professional, just nodded and walked away, probably to keep herself from saying something she’d regret.
As she passed by my seat, I caught her eye and mouthed, “I’m so sorry.” She gave me a small, grateful smile before continuing down the aisle.
Interior of an airplane | Source: Unsplash
The flight took off, and Todd’s behavior only got worse. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion: horrifying, yet impossible to look away from. Every few minutes, he’d find something new to complain about, each grievance more ridiculous than the last.
“Hey!” Todd’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the engines. “It’s freezing in here. Do something about it!”
Samantha appeared at his side, ever patient. “I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable, sir. I’ll adjust the temperature for this section.”
A flight attendant | Source: Midjourney
But of course, that wasn’t good enough for Todd. “Well, don’t just stand there. Get me a blanket. And make it snappy!”
I watched as Samantha retreated to fetch the demanded blanket, her shoulders tight with tension. Across the aisle, an older gentleman caught my eye and shook his head in disbelief.
No sooner had Samantha returned with the blanket than Todd was onto his next complaint. “This Wi-Fi is garbage,” he growled, jabbing at his tablet. “I’m trying to do important business here. Can’t you make it go faster?”
A scowling man | Source: Unsplash
“I apologize, sir,” Samantha replied, her voice strained but professional. “Unfortunately, the Wi-Fi speed is affected by our altitude and location. We don’t have control over-“
“Excuses!” Todd interrupted. “I pay good money for this seat. I expect better service.”
A woman a few rows ahead turned around, glaring daggers at Todd. For a moment, I thought she might say something, but she just huffed and turned back around.
The litany of complaints continued. Todd’s seat wasn’t comfortable enough. His drink wasn’t cold enough. The lighting was too bright, then too dim. At one point, he even had the audacity to complain about the angle of his tray table.
A flight attendant speaking to a passenger | Source: Unsplash
“This thing is crooked,” he snapped, gesturing at the perfectly level surface. “How am I supposed to work like this?”
Samantha leaned in to examine the tray. “It appears to be level, sir. Is there something specific that’s bothering you about it?”
Todd rolled his eyes dramatically. “Of course you can’t see it. Just get me the captain. Maybe he can do something about this incompetence.”
I could almost hear the collective intake of breath from the surrounding passengers. The tension in the cabin was palpable, a rubber band stretched to its limit.
First-class passengers on a plane | Source: Midjourney
That’s when I noticed movement a few rows back. A tall man in his mid-50s stood up, adjusting his casual blazer. He made his way towards Todd, and I found myself holding my breath.
“Todd?” the man said, his voice deep and commanding. “I thought that was you.”
Todd’s head snapped up, and I swear I saw all the color drain from his face. “Mr. Harris!” he squeaked, scrambling to his feet. “I… I didn’t know you were on this flight.”
A man in a suit | Source: Pexels
Mr. Harris, who was clearly Todd’s boss, smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Evidently not,” he said coolly. “I’ve been enjoying quite the show from my seat back there.”
Todd’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Sir, I can explain–”
Mr. Harris held up a hand, cutting him off. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary, Todd. Your behavior has been… illuminating.”
I couldn’t help but lean in, trying to catch every word of this exchange.
A woman | Source: Midjourney
Around me, I noticed other passengers doing the same, all of us united in our schadenfreude.
“Tell me, Todd,” Mr. Harris continued, his voice deceptively calm, “do you think this is how we expect our employees to conduct themselves? Berating service staff, making unreasonable demands, acting as though the world revolves around you?”
Todd opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I… I was just…”
“You were just embarrassing yourself and, by extension, our company,” Mr. Harris finished for him, adjusting his cufflinks.
A man adjusting his cufflinks | Source: Pexels
“I’m curious, do you treat your colleagues this way? Your subordinates?”
Todd’s face had gone from pale to a sickly shade of green. “Of course not, sir,” he mumbled.
Mr. Harris raised an eyebrow. “No? Then why do you think it’s acceptable to treat the hardworking staff of this airline any differently?” He paused, letting the question hang in the air.
“You know, Todd, since you seem so concerned about cleanliness, perhaps you’d like to shine your own shoes when we land. After all, isn’t that what you’re here for? To be useful?”
A thoughtful man | Source: Pexels
I had to bite my lip to keep from cheering out loud. Around me, I could see other passengers struggling to contain their glee.
“Mr. Harris, please,” Todd stammered, “I promise it won’t happen again.”
His boss fixed him with a steely gaze. “You’re right about that, Todd. When we land, you and I are going to have a very serious conversation about your future with the company. Or rather, your lack thereof.”
A man with a steely gaze | Source: Midjourney
With that, Mr. Harris turned on his heel and walked back to his seat, leaving Todd standing there, shell-shocked and humiliated.
For the rest of the flight, Todd was a changed man. He sat quietly, avoiding eye contact with everyone. When Samantha came by to collect trash, he mumbled a barely audible “thank you” without looking up.
As we began our descent, I caught Samantha’s eye again. This time, her smile was genuine, reaching all the way to her eyes. I gave her a little thumbs up, and she winked in return.
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