I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along.Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
I Found Earphones under My Floor-Bed and They Turned My World Upside Down
Who would’ve known that something small discovered in my house would lead me down a dark rabbit hole? Lies and secrets came to light as I unraveled the truth about a marriage I once thought was solid. It all ended with me getting revenge and peace.
Headphones on a pink and blue background | Source: Freepik
My husband, John, and I, Linda, have been happily married for five years. But sometimes the smallest things can shake the strongest foundations. That’s what happened the week I returned from a work trip.
I found something unsettling in my home—earphones, but not any earphones.
This mysterious third set was tucked under our floor-bed, a place I had just rearranged before leaving town. My husband, always a creature of habit, has a particular taste in tech. His earphones are always black and practical, matching everything else on his desk.
A couple reading books and talking | Source: Pexels
Mine? I keep them with me, standard white, nothing fancy. So, when I discovered a third set under our bed, beige with gold accents, my curiosity piqued. Naturally, I confronted him. His response, which included brushing off my confusion with a shrug, was:
“Oh, those old things, they’re mine. I wondered what happened to them.”
A man reading a book and writing notes while looking at someone | Source: Pexels
Something didn’t sit right with me about his response, and I found this whole thing odd. The color was off; his nonchalance was too forced. I chose to say nothing more at the moment, replying, “Oh okay…,” though my mind raced with questions.
Instead, I snapped a photo and, although it was a long shot, I turned to social media for help. I posted it on my Facebook page with a message:
“Found these in my living room after my son’s birthday party. If you recognize these earphones, please message me directly.”
A woman’s hands texting something on a laptop | Source: Pexels
It wasn’t long before I received a message that turned my world upside down. The message that popped up on my screen made my heart skip a beat! I gasped and screamed in shock when I realized who the earphones belonged to. My sister-in-law (SIL), Rachel claimed them.
A chill went down my spine as I tried to understand how they had ended up under our bed.
She had been at our house for my son’s birthday party, a week before my trip.
A shocked woman looking at her phone with a laptop on a desk | Source: Pexels
In a quick response, she responded to my post, saying, “So sorry, Linds. I think I must have dropped and forgotten about them during the party.” Her casual explanation did very little to ease my growing suspicion.
I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of doubt.
Rachel and my husband had always been close—too close. My gut now told me as I wondered if there was more to their relationship. I decided to keep a closer eye on them and their interactions. Feigning ignorance while I sought the truth.
A worried woman contemplating something | Source: Shutterstock
A few days passed, and my suspicion only deepened when I noticed they were together more often than usual. I’d catch them whispering and laughing. “You’re so funny, Jonny!” Rachel would say to my husband while sitting too close to him.
Their ease around each other now seemed less innocent. I needed more than suspicions; I needed proof.
So, instead of confronting them immediately, I decided to investigate without arousing any suspicion.
A man and woman talking and laughing | Source: Pexels
Under the guise of another work trip, I told my husband I’d be out of town for a few days. Instead, I stayed at a local establishment, using this time to watch our home discreetly.
I rented a car, an unrecognized one, and stationed myself near our home.
That first night of my “trip,” I watched as Rachel arrived at my house shortly after John got home from work. Her casual demeanor as she walked in, as if it were her own home, was all I needed to see. It confirmed that she’d done this before.
A woman sitting in a car holding a phone, wearing earphones, with a laptop on her lap | Source: Pexels
I had prepared for this to get tangible evidence. Earlier, I had installed discreet motion-activated cameras in our living room and near the entrance. Safely hidden away in my car later that evening, I watched the live feed on my laptop.
The images that unfolded were a painful confirmation of my worst fears! Their behavior went from innocent chats to close, intimate, and unmistakable. It was unlike what you’d expect from a brother-in-law and SIL and tore through my heart like a knife.
My worst fears were confirmed.
An unhappy-looking woman looking at something while in a car | Source: Pexels
I gathered evidence over the next few days, documenting the affair meticulously through the cameras and other means. Heartbroken yet resolute, I devised a plan for a dramatic revelation. This time I was armed with undeniable proof.
The annual family reunion was approaching. I knew it would be the perfect moment when our close and extended family members would be present. I “returned” home after my “trip” and pretended nothing was wrong.
A woman removing bags from a car | Source: Getty Images
As our family gathered for the reunion, I continued pretending everything was normal. The room filled with relatives, buzzing with laughter and conversation. They enjoyed the festivities while catching up.
Under the pretext of showing a family photo slideshow, I quietly set up a projector. Then, the lights dimmed and everyone settled down to watch as I began the slideshow. Instead of fond family memories, the first images to flash across the screen were freeze frames of my husband and Rachel.
It showed them in compromising positions from the footage in the house.
A woman sitting with a screen and people in the background | Source: Freepik
“I gathered you all here under happier pretenses, but we need to address the painful truth,” I announced. My voice was steady, masking the chaos inside. The shock was palpable; the room fell silent except for the murmurs of disbelief as I said:
“What you are seeing is the reality of an ongoing betrayal in our family, one that affects us all.”
People reacted with gasps, murmurs, and disbelief as the evidence of John’s infidelity played. I wanted everyone to see and understand the depth of deceit from my husband and Rachel.
A group of people reacting in shock to something | Source: Getty Images
The cheating pair caught off guard, could only sit frozen. They listened and watched from their different seats. As the evidence played out before everyone, there was no room for denial. They had no chance for them to twist the narrative.
The facade they’d held all along finally fell away as family members looked at them with judgment and disgust. It was a moment of bittersweet vindication. My marital trust shattered, but it marked the beginning of my journey toward healing and closure.
The truth was out, and now, it was time to rebuild, on my own terms.
A happy woman playing with her son | Source: Pexels
Linda’s story isn’t the only one where the wife discovers something that leads them to realize their husband is cheating. Tom’s wife, in a similar tale, found out the truth about her husband’s infidelity through social media too!
I Accidentally Discovered My Husband’s Cheating through an IG Post — My Public Revenge Shook His World
As dawn broke, I held my six-week-old daughter, Lily, feeling the weight of the morning’s change. Tom, my husband, was packing for a business trip, his first since Lily’s birth. Previously, his trips were routine, but now, they brought a heaviness I couldn’t shake.
Someone’s packed luggage, ready for a trip | Source: Getty Images
Despite Tom’s reassurances, my anxiety was confirmed when I stumbled upon an Instagram photo showing him at a restaurant, not alone, but with Eliza. The woman was his university friend who disliked me. Shocked and betrayed, I resolved to uncover the truth.
A woman holding a baby while looking at her phone | Source: Getty Images
I orchestrated a baby shower that turned into an expose. Amidst a slideshow of Lily’s photos, I included the incriminating image from Instagram. The room’s warmth turned to whispers of disbelief as Tom’s facade crumbled.
People reacting in shock and surprise about something | Source: Getty Images
My husband’s pleas fell on deaf ears as I stood firm, ending the event and our marriage with calm resolve. As I initiated the divorce, I knew Lily and I were ready to move forward, stronger and together.
A happy woman watching a baby sleep | Source: Getty Images
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.
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