The response said, “Keep the change.”

I just laughed it off without giving it much thought. That night, I stayed up late watching old Christmas movies, but the message kept running through my mind.

The next morning, when Travis woke up, I decided to ask him about the party.

Travis said the party started at his office, then moved to a bar for karaoke, and ended at a club. When I asked about the message, he looked confused.

“Probably one of the guys wrote it,” he said. “There was a lot of drinking, and you know how they get.”

Still, the message nagged at me. So, I turned to my mom for advice. In the five years we’d been married, this had never come up, but I shared my concerns and asked for her help.

Mom suggested putting a GPS tracker in Travis’s car. At first, I didn’t like the idea—it felt invasive, and I wasn’t the type to snoop. But the feeling wouldn’t go away, so I reluctantly agreed. I knew Travis would be deeply hurt if he ever found out.

I started tracking his drives to and from work during the last week before Christmas break. Everything seemed normal—until one night, he called to say he had to stay late at work to finish up before the holidays.

It was easy to believe him since I also had deadlines piling up.

While he was talking, I opened the tracking app on my laptop and noticed his car was moving. But instead of heading home or to the usual places, it was going in the wrong direction—toward a neighborhood with big houses and fancy cars.

I couldn’t ignore it. I grabbed my keys, got in my car, and started following him, quickly downloading the tracking app on my phone for easier access. Eventually, I parked across the street from his car, which was in the driveway of a stunning house. My heart was pounding.

 

While sitting in the car, I texted my mom to let her know what I was doing that Friday night. After about two hours, Travis came out of the house, smiling widely. Curious, I straightened up in my seat to get a better view.

To my shock, a woman followed him out. She reached for his arm, hugged him, and kissed him on the lips. At that moment, the source of my unease became clear, and my heart sank. The knots in my stomach finally untangled, leaving me with a painful realization.

Time seemed to freeze as I tried to process what I was seeing. Acting on impulse, I snapped a few pictures of them together. These photos were undeniable proof that my marriage was over.

After scrolling through the pictures on my phone, I knew sitting in the car wouldn’t accomplish anything. I needed answers.

I got out of the car and walked toward the house. Travis was the first to see me. He looked completely stunned and didn’t say a word, just stood there, frozen, as I approached.

“So, you’re the woman who wrote a reply on my husband’s chest?” I asked her.

While sitting in the car, I texted my mom to share my plans for Friday night. About two hours later, Travis walked out of the house, smiling from ear to ear. I sat up straighter to get a better look.

To my shock, a woman followed him out. When Travis turned to face her, she grabbed his arm, hugged him, and kissed him on the lips. My worst fears were staring back at me, and my heart sank. The uneasy feeling I’d been carrying finally made sense.

Time seemed to freeze as I tried to process what I was seeing. Acting on instinct, I took a few pictures of them together, knowing these photos were undeniable proof that my marriage was over.

After looking at the pictures on my phone, I realized staying in the car wouldn’t change anything. I needed answers.

I got out of the car and walked toward the house. Travis spotted me first and was so stunned he didn’t say a word. He just stood there, frozen, as I approached.

Turning to the woman, I asked, “So, you’re the one who left a message on my husband?”

I was surprised when her response wasn’t what I expected. She didn’t deny anything or shy away. Instead, she looked me in the eye and said I deserved better.

“Husbands like this deserve to be treated like spare change,” she said, throwing a glance at Travis.

His face turned red with anger and shame as he yelled, “How dare you!”

But it didn’t matter. The woman calmly shut the door behind her. I ignored Travis completely as I walked back to my car, leaving him standing there. When I got in, I noticed a text from my mom. It was a phone number—for a divorce lawyer.

This wasn’t the Christmas I had envisioned, but it became the bittersweet gift I gave myself. A fresh start: a New Year to rebuild, rediscover, and find happiness on my own terms.

After five years of marriage, life has proven to be unpredictable—but I’m ready to face it head-on.