I was startled when I found a strange drawing among Oliver’s usual crayon scribbles. Unlike his usual dinosaurs and stick-figure family, this one depicted a tall man with unnaturally long arms, huge hands, and an eerie, stretched-out grin.
“Oliver,” I asked, holding up the drawing, “who is this?”
“That’s Mr. Smiles, Daddy! He’s Mommy’s new friend. He comes to see her when you’re at work.”
My stomach clenched. Laura and I had been married for nine years, and though we’d faced challenges, I never doubted her faithfulness. But now…
“When does he come over?”
“Sometimes in the morning, sometimes at night. He makes Mommy and me laugh.” Oliver suddenly grew serious. “But it’s a secret! Don’t tell anyone!”
That night, I barely slept, lying beside Laura, my mind racing. The next day, I left work early and parked down the street from our house. At 3 p.m., a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. A tall, wiry man stepped out, grinning as Laura opened the door and let him inside.
Over the following weeks, I watched closely. Laura started taking calls in private. I found receipts for dinners I wasn’t part of. And Oliver kept drawing Mr. Smiles. Each new detail felt like a brick wall rising between us.
One evening, Laura noticed my distraction. “Are you okay?” she asked, concern in her voice.
I hesitated before finally blurting out, “Do you have someone else?”
She blinked in surprise. “Of course not, honey! How could you think that?”
I wanted to believe her. But I needed proof.
That Friday, I told Laura I’d be working late, then set up a hidden camera in the living room. From my car around the corner, I watched the live feed on my phone.
Right on time, Mr. Smiles arrived. Laura greeted him warmly—but then, something unexpected happened. My sister walked in. Then Oliver came bouncing down the stairs. More people arrived—friends, neighbors.
I sat frozen, watching as Mr. Smiles, now wearing a party hat, juggled oranges for Oliver, making him giggle.
“What the hell?” I muttered, storming toward the house.
Inside, everyone turned as I burst in. “Alright, you win,” I said, my voice shaking. “Everyone knew about this? Even Oliver? Even my sister?”
Laura’s face paled. “Please, stop!”
I turned to Mr. Smiles. “Who do you think you are? This is my house, my—”
Then I saw it.
A banner, still on the floor, golden letters gleaming: Happy 10th Anniversary!
Silence filled the room.
Mr. Smiles cleared his throat. “Sir, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m a wedding planner and entertainer. Your wife hired me to plan your anniversary party.”
“You thought I was cheating on you?” Laura’s voice wavered between anger and hurt.
“I—I didn’t know what else to think,” I admitted, feeling the weight of my mistake.
As guests awkwardly left, Laura and I sat in silence. “I spent months planning this,” she finally whispered. “I wanted it to be special.”
“I ruined everything.”
“You did,” she said, voice firm but not cold. “And it’s going to take time to fix.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
After a long pause, she let me take her hand. “Happy anniversary, you idiot,” she sighed, half-laughing.
Upstairs, Oliver’s laughter echoed—a reminder of all we had to lose, and everything still worth saving.
