Arthur’s discovery of a love letter in his wife Emily’s jeans ten years after their wedding led him on a quest to salvage their marriage, only to unearth a truth that shattered his plans and their life together.
My name is Arthur, and I’ve been married to Emily for a blissful ten years. We have a wonderful six-year-old daughter and live in a cozy home that’s always been our happy place.
I work from home as a graphic designer, which allows me to spend lots of time with my family.
A man working on his laptop | Source: Pexels
While I spend most days in my pajamas, Emily dresses up every morning before leaving for the local college where she works as a tutor. She’s passionate about her job, and I believe she’s really good at it.
Lately, though, I started to feel a change in the air. It wasn’t anything specific Emily said or did. I felt there was a newfound coldness in our relationship.
Previously, we used to chat about everything—the mundane details of our day, our daughter’s latest antics, or plans for the weekend. With time, these conversations faded and were replaced by polite nods and routine exchanges.
A couple talking in a kitchen | Source: Pexels
One evening, as we were clearing the dinner table, I tried to break the ice. “Hey, how was your day? Anything interesting happened with your students?” I asked, trying to reconnect.
She just smiled weakly and replied, “Oh, the usual stuff, nothing worth mentioning.”
Her brief reply felt like a wall going up, making me feel more distant than ever. It was clear that something was off, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
Close-up of a man’s face | Source: Pexels
Emily and I both do chores. It was my turn to do the laundry last Saturday. As usual, I gathered all the clothes scattered around our home and began sorting them. At that point, I had no idea that my heart was about to get broken.
As I emptied the pockets of Emily’s jeans, a folded piece of paper caught my attention. Curious, I unfolded it and found myself staring at a love letter. She didn’t write it to me but to someone named Mark.
“I love you always and forever,” Emily wrote in that letter, and I recognized her handwriting immediately. Those six words pierced my heart as my face turned pale. I felt a range of emotions—anger, betrayal, and heartbreak, all at once.
Close-up of text on a paper | Source: Pexels
I closed my eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath, preparing myself to read the text that I knew would break my heart into a million pieces. I sat on the cold floor of our laundry room and read the letter carefully.
“To Mark,
Meeting you transformed my life. The way you make me feel is hard to explain. You have a remarkable ability to make me feel beautiful, valued, worthy, and loved. If I could only give you one thing in this life, it would be the ability to see yourself through my eyes so you could realize how special you are to me.
I love you always and forever.”
My hands trembled as I read the words, and a wave of heartbreak washed over me. How could my wife share such intimate, loving words with someone else?
A man with his fingers on his temples | Source: Pexels
As hundreds of painful questions popped into my mind, I whispered to myself, “How long has this been going on?” I couldn’t believe Emily was involved with someone else, but the letter in my hands was a stark, undeniable token of infidelity that I couldn’t just ignore.
Fuming with anger, I wanted to confront Emily immediately but decided to teach her a lesson instead. Little did I know that was the worst decision I could have ever made.
Holding the letter in my hand, I went to my mother’s house. She’s a well-known lawyer in our city, and I trusted her judgment implicitly. When I showed her the letter and explained the situation, her reaction was immediate and intense.
“Arthur, this is clear evidence of her infidelity. You should consider filing for divorce. I’ll support you through this, and we’ll make sure you come out of this with everything you deserve,” she declared firmly. Her words were sharp, fueled by a mix of professional judgment and maternal protectiveness.
Close-up of an older woman | Source: Pexels
Though her reaction aligned with the hurt I was feeling, something inside me hesitated. “Should I end everything based on one letter?” I thought to myself.
“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” I told my mother. “I don’t want to file for divorce right now.”
“But why?” Mom protested, her voice tinged with deep concern. “It’s clear Emily is interested in someone else, Arthur.”
“I want to talk to her first, Mom,” I said calmly. “But please promise me you won’t tell anyone I came here to file for divorce. Not even Dad. No one. Okay?”
“I don’t think you’re doing the right thing, Arthur,” she sighed. “But I’ll keep our meeting a secret. Don’t worry. Just give me a call when you’re ready to file for divorce.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said before leaving her house.
A man driving a car | Source: Pexels
During the next few days, I consciously tried to salvage our marriage. I wasn’t ready to give up on us without trying to bring back the warmth and closeness we once shared.
I started by being more present at home. Instead of retreating to my desk after dinner as usual, I stayed to help Emily clean up the kitchen.
I took on more of the daily chores, hoping to ease her load and show her that I was there for her.
A person washing dishes | Source: Pexels
Each morning, I made it a point to ask about her plans for the day. I listened to her plans carefully, ensuring she felt I was paying full attention. I wanted Emily to know I was there for her and our daughter.
I also surprised her with her favorite roses when she returned home from work one day. I felt happy watching her smile as she lifted the bouquet and inhaled the fragrance. It reminded me of our early days when I used to surprise her with roses daily.
With my consistent efforts of trying to make our marriage work, our relationship began to improve. Emily started reciprocating my romantic acts, making me feel better about our bond.
Red roses in a vase | Source: Pexels
I believed these small gestures would ultimately bridge the gap that had formed between us until the day Emily returned home visibly upset.
That day, she stormed in, her eyes flashing with anger. “Your family accosted me in the store today, Arthur. They accused me of cheating and warned me about losing everything in a divorce. Is it true? Did you really talk to them about us without speaking to me first?” Her voice was louder and more strained than I had ever heard it.
“Yes, it’s true. After I found that love letter you wrote to Mark, I thought about filing for divorce,” I admitted, my voice tight with frustration. “But then I decided to give our marriage a chance, and you should be grateful that I even considered trying.”
A couple arguing | Source: Pexels
“What are you talking about, Arthur? What letter to Mark?” She was genuinely confused now, her anger mixing with bewilderment.
“The letter in your jeans—the one filled with declarations of love for Mark. I saw it with my own eyes, Emily,” I said pointedly.
Emily started to laugh, a reaction I hadn’t expected. “Oh, Arthur, that letter wasn’t for me. It was a favor for a student who wanted to express her feelings to her boyfriend. I just helped her phrase it better.”
“What?’ I was shocked.
I stood there, feeling the ground shift beneath me as the reality of the misunderstanding dawned on me. My actions, based on a misinterpreted piece of paper, had spiraled out of control, damaging the trust between us perhaps irreparably.
A man standing in the doorway | Source: Pexels
“I can’t believe you’d think I was cheating on you and then tell everyone about filing for divorce!” she yelled at me.
I felt horrible after learning the truth. Feeling guilty, I asked Emily for forgiveness, but she asked me to leave her alone.
The next day, she was sure about wanting a divorce. The trust was broken, not by her supposed infidelity, but by my hasty actions and doubts.
Looking back, I feel terrible thinking about how my insecurities and mistrust ruined my life. What should I do now?
A man facing a window | Source: Pexels
If you enjoyed reading this story, you might like this one about a woman who found a secret folder on her husband’s laptop with her name on it.
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.
I Asked My Husband for Money for Office Clothes After Maternity Leave — He Replied, ‘Get a Job as a Cleaner, You Don’t Need Fancy Clothes There’
Sometimes, life hands you lemons in the form of a careless husband. When mine suggested I become a cleaner instead of buying new work clothes, I took his advice. But I did it with a twist he never saw coming.
The worst part about betrayal? It always comes from someone you trust.
I went on maternity leave a year ago, completely devoting myself to our son, Ethan.
A woman holding her baby | Source: Pexels
Late-night feedings, endless diaper changes, keeping our house together, making sure Tyler always had a hot meal waiting after work… I did it all.
And honestly? I didn’t mind. Being a mom was challenging but rewarding in ways my office job never was.
The tiny smiles and the first giggles… they just filled my heart with joy I can never explain in words.
A toddler sitting on the floor | Source: Pexels
But after a year, it was time for me to go back to work. I was actually excited. I missed adult conversations that didn’t revolve around baby food. I missed feeling like more than just a mom.
Except, there was a problem.
“Tyler, none of my work clothes fit anymore,” I said one evening while folding laundry. Ethan was finally down for the night, and Tyler was sitting on the couch.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I sighed, holding up a pencil skirt that used to be my go-to office staple. “I mean, my body changed after having your child. I’ve tried everything in my closet, and nothing fits right anymore.”
“So? Just wear something else.”
“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t have anything else. I need to buy a few new outfits for the office.” I sat beside him on the couch. “I was hoping we could use some of our savings for that.”
That’s when he gave me the look that made me feel like I was asking for something out of this world.
A close-up shot of a man’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Do you have any idea how much daycare is going to cost?” he asked. “Plus, all the baby expenses? Your job barely covers those costs as it is.”
“It’s just a few outfits, Tyler. I can’t exactly go back to work without clothes.”
That’s when he said it.
“Your job costs us a lot. Just get a job as a cleaner. You don’t need fancy clothes for that.”
I couldn’t believe his words.
Had he really just said that? This man whom I’d been making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for? The one whose laundry I’d been doing? Whose baby I’d been taking care of 24/7 while he continued his career without interruption?
A close-up shot of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
“A cleaner?” I repeated.
Tyler shrugged. “It’s practical. Better hours for childcare too.”
I had sacrificed my body, my sleep, and my career momentum for our family. And now, when I needed something basic to continue moving forward, he couldn’t even be bothered to support me.
Instead of yelling at him, I just smiled and said, “You’re right, babe. I’ll figure something out.”
And I did.
But not in the way he expected.
A man in his house | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t about to beg for basic respect or a few new shirts.
Instead, I followed his suggestion and got a job as a cleaner.
But not just anywhere.
I applied at his office.
Tyler works at a prestigious corporate law firm downtown. When I discovered they needed part-time cleaning staff through a job listing online, it felt like the universe was handing me exactly what I needed.
A woman looking for a job on her laptop | Source: Pexels
Within a week, I was hired for the evening shift, which worked perfectly with our childcare situation. My mother was more than happy to watch Ethan for a few hours in the evening, especially when I explained what I was doing. She never did like Tyler much.
The best part? Tyler had no idea.
He assumed I was taking night classes to “improve my skills,” as I’d vaguely mentioned. He never asked for details, which was another sign of how little he actually cared about my aspirations.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
For three weeks, I worked the cleaning shift, making sure to avoid the floor where Tyler’s office was located. I needed to pick the right moment.
The perfect opportunity presented itself when I learned through office gossip that Tyler would be hosting an important client meeting on Wednesday evening.
The cleaning schedule had me on his floor that night, and I made no requests to change it.
Documents on a table | Source: Midjourney
When Wednesday arrived, I walked into his office in my gray uniform, hair pulled back in a simple ponytail and wearing minimal makeup.
I pushed my cleaning cart deliberately, the squeaky wheel announcing my presence before I even reached his door.
Tyler was in the middle of presenting something to a group of five people seated around his conference table when I entered to empty the trash bins. I kept my head down initially, methodically going about my work, but I could feel the moment his eyes landed on me.
The confident flow of his presentation stuttered to a halt mid-sentence.
A man standing in a meeting room | Source: Midjourney
“And the quarterly projections show—” His voice cracked. “The projections show that… I’m sorry, excuse me for a second.”
I continued working, moving to the bin beside his desk, feeling his stare burning into my back.
“Marilyn?” he finally spoke up. “What are you doing here?”
I turned and smiled politely. “Oh, hello, sir. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.”
The blood drained from his face so quickly I thought he might pass out. Meanwhile, the clients and his colleagues looked between us in confusion.
Men sitting in an office | Source: Pexels
Then, one of his coworkers, who had seen me at company events before, spoke up. “Wait, this is your wife? What’s she doing here?”
Tyler stammered. “I… I don’t know. Marilyn, what are you doing?”
I maintained my composure, standing straight with dignity despite the uniform. “Oh, I just took my husband’s wonderful advice! He suggested that since my old job was too costly with childcare and professional clothing, being a cleaner would be more practical. No dress code to worry about. To be honest, it’s actually been quite educational.”
The room fell silent.
Every eye turned to Tyler, whose face had now gone from pale to flushed with embarrassment.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
His boss, Mr. Calloway, raised an eyebrow. “Your husband told you to be a cleaner instead of continuing your career?”
I shrugged with an innocent smile. “Well, he said my previous job was too expensive because I needed new clothes after having our baby. He thought this would be a better fit for me.”
Mr. Calloway’s expression hardened as he looked at Tyler.
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
The atmosphere in the room had completely changed.
“Marilyn, can we discuss this at home?” Tyler whispered. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Of course,” I replied cheerfully. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your important meeting. I’ll just finish up here and be on my way. You gentlemen have a wonderful evening.”
As I pushed my cart toward the door, I heard Mr. Calloway say, “Let’s take a fifteen-minute break, shall we?”
That told me Tyler was in for an uncomfortable conversation.
A boss talking to an employee | Source: Midjourney
But I wasn’t done yet. This was just the beginning.
Over the following weeks, I made sure to be exceptionally diligent at my job. I always cleaned Tyler’s office last, timing it perfectly so his coworkers would still be around wrapping up their day.
I smiled sweetly whenever someone asked about my presence there, and I made a point of thanking Tyler loudly for his “amazing career advice” whenever we crossed paths.
Back-view shot of a woman working as a cleaner | Source: Midjourney
One day, Tyler tried to talk to me about it at home.
“This has gone on long enough,” he insisted. “You’ve made your point. This is embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing for whom?” I asked calmly. “I’m following your suggestion. I thought you’d be proud of me for being so practical.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “It was just a comment. I was stressed about money.”
A man looking down | Source: Midjourney
“Funny how your ‘just comments’ always seem to minimize me and my needs,” I chuckled. “And funnier still how my stress about returning to work professionally wasn’t worth considering, but your stress about money justified belittling my career.”
At that point, Tyler didn’t know that I was having conversations while cleaning offices. Real conversations. With people who saw me as more than just “the cleaner” or “the mom.”
Specifically, Carol from HR had stopped me one evening to chat after finding me reading a legal brief I’d spotted on a desk.
A stack of papers on a desk | Source: Midjourney
After learning about my background in corporate communications and the circumstances that led me to cleaning, she was appalled.
“We actually have an opening in the marketing department,” she told me. “The pay is competitive, and the hours would work with your childcare situation. Would you be interested?”
I was more than interested. I was ready.
The final act in my plan came together at the next company event, where spouses were invited. Tyler had begged me not to attend, claiming we should “leave work at work,” but I insisted.
A man sitting with his head in his hands, worried about his image | Source: Midjourney
I arrived fashionably late, wearing a stunning new navy dress that I’d purchased with my first advance from my new marketing position that would start the following Monday. It was a position that paid significantly more than Tyler’s.
The look on his face when I walked in was worth every second of pushing that cleaning cart. He just stared at me with wide eyes as Carol from HR approached me with a glass of champagne.
A woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney
“Everyone, I’d like to introduce our newest team member,” Carol announced to the small group near us. “Marilyn will be joining our marketing department on Monday as our new Communications Director. Some of you may have met her already in a different capacity.”
The smirks and raised eyebrows around the circle made it clear everyone understood exactly what “different capacity” meant. Tyler looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
Later that evening, Tyler cornered me by the drinks table.
“You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?” he hissed.
A man standing in a party | Source: Midjourney
I sipped my champagne calmly. “No, Tyler. You planned it when you decided I wasn’t worth a few new outfits to restart my career. I just adapted to the circumstances you created.”
“It was a joke,” he insisted, his voice desperate. “I was stressed. I didn’t mean for you to actually become a cleaner.”
“And I didn’t mean to discover that my husband values me so little,” I replied. “Yet here we are, both surprised by outcomes we didn’t expect.”
Over the following months, things changed dramatically between us.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
Tyler’s position at the firm became increasingly uncomfortable as the story of his “career advice” to his wife became part of company lore. Meanwhile, my role expanded as my talents were recognized. The power dynamic in our marriage shifted noticeably.
Tyler tried to apologize repeatedly.
He bought me clothes, jewelry, and even a new car, but it didn’t work.
A man holding car keys | Source: Pexels
You see, the moment he made me feel like I wasn’t worth basic respect was the moment something fundamental broke between us.
Now, six months later, my closet is filled with clothes that fit the woman I’ve become.
Meanwhile, Tyler has lost his job. He’s apologized more times than I can count, but no amount of regret can erase the moment he made me feel small, the moment he dismissed my worth so easily.
And now, the choice is mine. Do I forgive him and give our marriage another chance? Or is it time to walk away for good?
What would you do?
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.
Leave a Reply