My Husband Said the Perfume and Bouquet He Bought Were ‘Just a Work Thing’ — So I Set a Trap to Find Out the Truth #6

For months, little things had been bothering me about Daniel, my husband. Like the way he turned away when his phone rang, and how he’d started working late almost every night.

Plus, the growing distance between us in bed had become too obvious to ignore.

We had been married for 12 years, had two wonderful sons, and I thought we were a team. Not anymore.

Now, it was glaringly obvious that something was wrong… that he was doing… well. You probably know where this is going.

Anyway, I had already considered several options and even had some papers drawn up. But I wasn’t sure if I was jumping the gun, until I noticed a particular charge on our shared credit card for a perfume and a bouquet.

At first, I thought he’d noticed our distance too and was going to make up for it. But I didn’t get any gifts.

I had ignored and let go of many other things, but I really wanted to know where the perfume and flowers went. So, one evening, while Daniel sat on the couch scrolling through his phone, I decided to test him.

“Hey, did you buy perfume and flowers recently? There’s a charge on our statement,” I said, watching his face carefully.

Daniel barely looked up from his screen as he dismissed me. “It’s not what it looks like. It was just a work thing.”

“A work thing?” I repeated.

“Yeah, a gift for my assistant. Assistant’s Day,” he mumbled, eyes glued to his screen. “Everyone was doing it. I didn’t want to look bad.”

Oh, sure. That’s likely, I thought, but I still nodded and pretended to let it go.

As I walked away, everything clicked into place in my mind. This time, I knew for sure that he was lying, and that his mistress was most likely his secretary, Ophelia.

I’d only suspected it before, and now I was done turning a blind eye. There’s only one thing worse than getting cheated on: having your money spent on the mistress.

You see, I was the one who had brought most — honestly all — of the wealth into our marriage. My family’s money had paid for our house, and my career supported our lifestyle. Meanwhile, his job was managerial, but nothing to write home about.

He certainly wouldn’t be living like this without me, and I was prepared to leave him. But as I considered my options that night, I realized that if I filed for divorce without proof of his infidelity, I’d lose too much.

It was in our prenup. I’d originally wanted him to be set up if we ever got divorced. I’d loved him truly. But there was a fidelity clause, and honestly, my love for him had died.

So, I needed to set a TRAP.

When Daniel went to bed, I went to my home office, closed the door, and made a plan.

Three days later, I put it into action.

“I’m taking the boys to my parents’ for the weekend,” I announced to Daniel over breakfast. “They’ve been asking to see the kids, and I could use some time with Mom.”

“Great idea,” he said, not even trying to hide his enthusiasm. “I’ve got a bunch of work stuff anyway.”

I bet you do.

I made a show of packing bags, loading up the car, and even kissed Daniel goodbye at the door.

“Don’t work too hard,” I said with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

“I won’t,” he promised, already checking his watch.

After dropping the boys at my parents’ house and spending a few hours with them, I excused myself, telling my mother I was meeting a few friends and might be late.

But I drove back to our neighborhood, parked a block away from our house, and waited. My stomach twisted into knots as the minutes ticked by.

Suddenly, a sleek black car pulled up to our driveway, and I was ready with my phone.

A woman stepped out from the passenger side, and Daniel appeared at the front door. He wore his “date night” shirt, the blue one I’d bought him for our anniversary.

After briefly greeting each other, I saw his hand reaching for the small of the woman’s back as he walked her inside.

My fingers shook as I recorded the entire thing. Hot tears threatened to spill, but I blinked them away. I needed to be clear-headed for what came next.

I waited for hours, seeing the sky darkened. I sat there until midnight, giving them plenty of time to get comfortable, to think they were safe.

Finally, I got out of my car and walked to my front door. I slipped my key into the lock and turned it quietly.

Inside, the scene was like something from a bad romance movie, complete with dimmed lights and candles on the coffee table.

A trail of clothes led down the hallway—a woman’s bra and a pair of red stilettos that definitely weren’t mine. The scent of vanilla perfume hung in the air. The same perfume from the credit card statement, I was sure.

I walked slowly, taking in every detail of this betrayal.

On the kitchen counter sat Daniel’s phone, surprisingly unlocked. He’d always been careless, but tonight that carelessness would cost him.

I picked it up and found exactly what I expected: messages, pictures, and details of their affair.

There were also photos of them together at hotels. They matched the dates Daniel claimed to be on business trips, all paid for by his employer.

Plus, heart emojis and promises were scattered throughout their text messages.

So, I took screenshots of everything, emailed them all to myself, and then quietly retreated to my home office. From a locked drawer, I pulled out divorce papers I’d had prepared weeks ago.

I wasn’t jumping the gun after all.

I also gathered the house deed and other financial documents I’d set aside.

All night, I stayed in that office, listening to the sounds of my husband’s betrayal through the walls. I recorded what I could. I planned what I would say and I emailed a few things.

By morning, I felt empty but resolved.

At 7 a.m., I walked into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and sat down at the table with my documents beside me. I waited.

Twenty minutes later, Daniel emerged from our bedroom, urgently ushering out Ophelia.

“You need to hurry,” he whispered to her. “We don’t know when Felicia will be back.”

Then they both froze, seeing me sitting there, calmly sipping my coffee.

“Too late,” I said.

Daniel’s face went white. “F-Felicia? What are you doing here? This isn’t—”

“Oh, no, Danny. It’s EXACTLY what it looks like,” I cut him off, holding up my phone and taking a photo. “I’ve got this, and you also left your phone unlocked last night. I’ve got all the screenshots I need. All your messages. All your pictures. All your lies.”

Ophelia looked between us, her eyes widening.

Before either of them could speak, I slid the divorce papers across the table.

“I’ve had these drawn up for a while now,” I said. “Weeks actually, Daniel. I had a feeling. My signature is already on them. All they need is yours.”

“Divorce? Babe, please, I can explain—” Daniel started.

“Save it,” I said. Then I turned to Ophelia. “By the way, this house you’ve been sneaking around in? It’s mine. Bought and paid for with my money, and he won’t get a piece of it when we separate.”

Ophelia looked confused. “What do you mean?”

I smiled, tilting my head. “Did he tell you he was wealthy? That he owned this beautiful house? Well, allow me to enlighten you.”

I slid an envelope across the table.

Ophelia’s face changed instantly. The soft, seductive look she’d been giving Daniel hardened into something cold and calculating.

“Are you serious?” she snapped at Daniel. “You lied about all that?”

Daniel looked panicked. “Ophelia, baby, no—”

“Ugh!” Ophelia scoffed while grabbing her scattered things. “I’m out of here.” She stomped her heels through my expensive hardwood floors toward the door.

“Wait!” Daniel ran after her, following her outside. “Ophelia, please! Don’t go! I can explain! I… I love you!”

My eyes rolled, as I walked calmly to the front door and watched Daniel chase Ophelia down our driveway, begging her to stay.

But he couldn’t go far without shoes.

He stopped running and turned breathlessly back to our house. That’s when I spoke again.

“One more thing, Daniel,” I called out, tossing his phone onto the pavement, which made him gasp. “I emailed screenshots of your texts to your HR department this morning. I also included photos of your ‘business trips’ with her. You know, the trips where you took her to hotels, probably on company dime?”

His eyes bulged. “You… what?”

“I assume they’ll see those on Monday,” I added, shrugging and taking a final sip of my coffee. “I guess you have today to buy some time, to save your job. But as far as your home… well, you can start packing.”

Then I walked back inside, leaving Daniel standing alone in the driveway to mull over everything he’d ruined.