My Husband’s Lover Came to Me for a Massage, Not Knowing I’m His Wife

I never thought it would happen to me. My husband and I had built a life together—until one routine appointment at my massage studio unraveled it all.

A young woman, Emily, walked in, exuding confidence and luxury. As I worked, she vented about her “complicated” boyfriend divorcing his wife, calling the woman boring, plain, and a burden. She scoffed at raising “someone else’s brats”—her words stung, though I didn’t know why.

Then her phone buzzed. My heart stopped. The screen lit up with a photo of her and my husband. She silenced the call, but I calmly told her, “No, dear. Answer it. It’s my husband—your boyfriend—calling.” Her body tensed. But mine? I was done playing the fool.