Jessica planned a special surprise for their 10th anniversary, but a shock awaited her at the local store. What she mistook for betrayal turned into an unforgettable celebration of love and trust.

Today marks ten years—ten whole years since George and I said “I do.” With each anniversary, I try to make things special, but this year, I wanted it to be unforgettable. So, I planned a surprise with all of George’s favorite things, the ones he doesn’t treat himself to often.

There’s this little gourmet shop downtown that sells the best artisanal cheeses and craft beers, George’s favorites. He’d never spend money on them himself, but I knew they would make his day.

The shop was bustling, a typical scene for a Saturday morning. I navigated through the aisles, my basket slowly filling up with treats. The air was rich with the smell of freshly baked bread and coffee. It felt good to be doing something special for him, thinking about his smile when he’d see what I got him.

As I waited in line to pay, the hum of voices around me blended into a familiar sound. A voice I knew better than my own. George’s voice. My heart skipped. He was supposed to be across town, stuck in traffic. That’s what he texted just ten minutes ago. Confused, I peeked around the person in front of me.

 

There he was, not a hint of traffic stress on his face. And he wasn’t alone. He was with my mom, laughing about something on his phone, her hand lightly touching his arm.

My stomach churned. Why would he lie? Why was he here with her, looking so… happy? The line moved, but I was frozen, a mix of disbelief and dread washing over me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me back from the shock. Another message from George: “Really stuck here, babe. Might take even longer. Love you.”

The words blurred before my eyes. Love you? Did he really? My hands shook as I typed a quick reply to say I understood, while a storm of doubt raged inside me.

I couldn’t just confront them—not there, not with so many eyes watching. I needed answers, and the only way to get them was to follow them discreetly.

So, I hung back, my shopping forgotten, as they left the store together. They seemed so at ease with each other, too comfortable. My mind raced with every step they took—had there been signs I missed?

I followed them at a distance, my heart pounding in my ears. They didn’t notice me. They walked down the streets like any pair might on a sunny morning, occasionally laughing, completely absorbed in their own little world. That hurt the most, seeing them like that.

As they turned into my mom’s street, a million scenarios ran through my head. Each was worse than the last. What would I do if my worst fears were confirmed?

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