I sent him the text: “I’m alone tonight and I’m really scared,” but by mistake, I sent it to my husband… and I ended up discovering his secret.

I was paralyzed. In that instant, everything I had believed in and nurtured for four years suddenly collapsed.

We met in college, during the most beautiful years of my youth, in an environment filled with innocence and enthusiasm. He was the president of the volunteer club, always busy with meetings and events, but he never forgot to invite me to dinner or for a walk around campus. In those days, I thought that if I ever married him, I would have nothing more to wish for in life.

We were together for four years in college, and three years after graduating, we were married. I was the middle child in a wealthy family: a brilliant older sister and a spoiled younger brother. I, on the other hand, was the discreet one, the one who went unnoticed in my own home. My parents were always busy, each with their own lives, with little interest in me.

Perhaps that’s why I never had the vanity of a daughter from a wealthy family. I learned to be independent as a child, to take care of myself, to be prudent, and to give in when necessary. And that’s what made him fall in love with me.

He was different. He came from a humble village, without resources, but with great ambitions. He knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed. For him, a career was the most important thing. And I, with my family and my support, was the perfect choice: a mix of love and convenience.

When we got married, almost all the wedding expenses were covered by my family. His family barely participated out of obligation. The house where we lived was a gift from my parents; the deed was in both names, although he only paid a small part in installments. The car I used to commute to work was also a gift from my father.

I never claimed anything. I loved him, and I believed that, as husband and wife, everything was shared. I thought my role was to be his silent support, his stable refuge. I loved him constantly and discreetly.

After we were married, he put all his energy into work. He rose quickly and is now a manager at a large company. I took a lighter job so I would have time to take care of the family. I never blamed him for being busy, nor did I get angry because he didn’t talk much, nor did I complain about the lonely dinners or the nights he came home drunk.

I thought my role was to be the wife, the one who waits, the one who supports. That’s how I loved him, silently and firmly. Until that day… when I accidentally sent a text.

That day it was raining heavily. I was alone in the huge house, afraid of the thunder. I wanted to text my best friend:
“My husband is on a business trip. Tonight I’m home alone; it’s raining too hard outside, and I’m scared.”

But I was wrong and sent it to my husband.

I expected him to reply with words of encouragement, perhaps a call to reassure me. But instead, he sent me a photo… of him with another woman in bed, without a single explanation.

I texted him, “I’m alone tonight and scared,” but I mistakenly sent it to my husband… and that’s how I discovered his secret.

I was stunned when I received his reply.

The next day, he came home, calm and collected, as if nothing had happened. I didn’t say much; I just showed him the photo. He looked at it for a long time, then sighed and said lightly,
“It’s not what you think… this was something out of my control.”

I asked him,
“Out of your control? You, in bed with another woman, and someone sends the photo from your phone? Was that an accident?”

He was silent for a moment, then half-heartedly explained that it had been at a party after signing with a partner. That he’d been drunk, set up, and photographed. He assured me:
“I don’t know who took the photo or who used my phone to send it to you. After I sent it, they deleted it, so it didn’t appear in my history, and I didn’t find out. But I swear I didn’t do anything wrong against you. I only have you.”

I remained silent, my heart empty. I no longer know if he was unfaithful to me or not. If it was a setup, why did he fall for it so easily? And if he really was a victim, why didn’t he show anger, fear, or indignation?

What should I do now? Let it go like it was nothing… or keep going until I find out the whole truth?