Seven years into my marriage, I stumbled on a TikTok post showing my husband in a wedding photo—with someone else. Scrolling through the first video, I realized they’d been married for seven years, too. The marriage I thought was perfect had been a total joke. Following the trail of his TikTok videos, I discovered his secret account, where he gave “advice” on double lives: “One up North, one down South. No way they’ll ever run into each other.” “Pick the practical one for the marriage certificate. Women like that won’t leave even if they find out about you!” I didn’t even stop to wipe my tears. That night, I packed and erased every trace of myself from the place I’d called home. Rick was on a business trip, so I spent the day on the couch, binging TikTok videos. We’re a DINK couple, and after seven years, things were supposed to be perfect, at least in theory. But he’s a workaholic, away on business trips more than half the month. He’s never around long enough to stick to any kind of schedule—it’s always last-minute, “just gotta go.” After scrolling aimlessly for a while, I felt a bit hungry but couldn’t decide what to order. I typed into TikTok’s search bar, “What to eat when your husband’s always away on business?” It was so ridiculous I laughed and screenshot it to send to Rick. Predictably, there was no response. He’s like that. Whenever he’s busy, everything else disappears. Scrolling down, I found a TikTok from a woman whose life seemed to mirror my own. Her captions practically described my life: “My husband’s on a business trip again, so I’m just lying on the couch all day, trying to decide what to eat.” “My husband’s a workaholic, always gone half the month, leaving me alone. I miss him!” “Married seven years, everything’s perfect, except for the no-kids part.” … The videos mostly used cute stock photos until suddenly, one real photo popped up—a vintage wedding portrait. The caption read, “Happy seventh anniversary!” The bride looked vaguely familiar, and I knew the groom instantly. It was Rick. My heart skipped a beat, then kept beating faster and faster, until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The impact of that picture was like a slap to the face. It took me a long while to even grasp what was happening. It was clear Rick had been unfaithful. Every caption in her posts fit neatly with his business trip schedule. He’d been cheating for the full seven years. The marriage I’d thought was solid was nothing but a cruel joke. I’d been a complete fool. After some deep breaths, I finally felt calm enough to keep scrolling and found his secret TikTok account, where he had his “double life tips”: “One up North, one down South. No way they’ll ever meet.” “Choose the practical one for the certificate. This type of woman won’t leave you easily, even if she finds out.” So I was the “practical one.” He married me because I was trusting, supportive, and never raised hell. I’d been the one who earned the title “wife.” And the other woman? Beautiful, flirtatious, good at making him feel loved, so she got his time, attention, and affection. One post’s caption hit me the hardest: “He says when he saves enough, we’ll marry in a country where divorce isn’t allowed. We’ll stay together forever.” Rick had never said those words to me. I’d always thought he was just quiet, a little shy, not the kind to sweet-talk. Turns out, he just didn’t think I was worth the effort. Seven years, and I’d poured everything I had into him—unquestioning support, unwavering trust. Whenever he said he had to go, I never questioned him. He said he was working hard to make money for us, and I’d believed it without a doubt. Now, I realize just how naïve I was.
I scrolled through more of her TikTok posts, finding her very first video. The setting was a small rural town, and it looked like a holiday celebration was going on. Something about the town looked familiar, and that’s when it hit me: she was Amber, a distant relative of Rick’s from Sweetwater. I’d only met Amber once, during our fourth year of marriage. That year, right before the holidays, I insisted on visiting Rick’s hometown to meet his family. Before we got married, Rick had said his hometown was too remote for me to visit, and his parents were fine with a long-distance wedding over video call. Every holiday since, Rick would go on about how my parents were alone and needed me around, so we’d spend holidays apart. But that year, I pushed harder than ever and wouldn’t take no for an answer. And so, reluctantly, Rick brought me to Sweetwater. That’s when I met Amber. She glared at me with a look I couldn’t quite shake off. “So, this is your wife from the city? She doesn’t look like much.” Rick brushed it off, explaining that she was some distant cousin from his family with a bit of a feud, and they didn’t get along well. It was my first time there, so I didn’t think much of it. That night, though, Rick insisted we head back to Nashville, even though I wanted to stay and get to know his parents. Even his parents seemed eager to send us off, saying that as their only child, it wouldn’t be right to leave my parents on their own for the holidays. As we were leaving, Amber appeared again, staring hard at Rick this time. My intuition flared up, and I asked Rick what was really going on. He brushed it off, calling me paranoid and like all “those other suspicious wives.” But finally, he explained enough to ease my mind. He said Amber had had a severe fever as a kid that had left her mentally “a little off.” Apparently, the town’s “fool” looked at people the way she did. And I bought it. Now I know who the real fool was all along—me. Amber’s TikTok was full of videos about her life with Rick. They’d even had a big wedding in Sweetwater, with a three-day reception. When Rick and I got married, he told me he hated “over-the-top formalities” and wanted something simple. So we went to a nearby city for a short weekend honeymoon. I’d thought he was just modest, uninterested in public displays. Now I realized he just didn’t want them with me. I laughed through my tears, my face a mess with both. At some point, a message came through from Rick: “Babe, the project here hit a snag. I won’t be back tomorrow after all.” I already knew why. Tomorrow was his anniversary with her. Every year, he was there to celebrate with her. Meanwhile, in all the years we’d been married, he hadn’t remembered a single anniversary with me. Before, I’d always told him it was okay if he couldn’t make it home. I’d tell him not to worry, to eat well, to rest when he could. This time, though, I typed only three words in reply: “Let’s divorce.”
I packed up everything of mine that night—trashed what I didn’t want, burned what I couldn’t stand to see again, and erased every trace of my existence from that apartment in Oakdale Ridge. By the time I wheeled my suitcase out the door, my phone was still silent. Rick was busy celebrating his anniversary with Amber; he wouldn’t see my text for a while. I rented a cabin at Mountain Inn, changed my phone number, and gave it only to my parents. Each day, I’d sit quietly in the yard, staring into the mountains, taking in the silence, eating and sleeping, and little else. A week later, Rick’s number appeared on my phone. He called several times, but I didn’t answer. Then the messages started coming in. “Lauren, where have you been? Staying out all night?” Rick must have gotten home last night, then found out this morning that I was gone. He’d called my parents to get my new number, and here he was, blowing up my phone. “Why aren’t you answering? All because I came home a few days late? Lauren, since when did you start being so unreasonable?” “Your parents said you changed your number days ago. What have you been doing all this time, and with whom?” “If you don’t want this marriage, have you even told your parents? If you don’t want to worry them, then come back here!” Just then, my parents called, wondering if Rick and I had had a fight. I made up a quick excuse to ease their worries, then dialed Rick. I just wanted a few days of peace to myself, a little distance to clear my head. I hadn’t meant to vanish completely, after all. We were still legally bound, and I couldn’t walk away without closure. My chest tightened painfully as I began to speak, taking deep breaths to keep myself steady. “Rick, I’ve thought it over. Let’s just end things.” There was silence on the other end before he finally replied: “Lauren, are you serious?” “I’ve been slaving away in another city to provide for you, struggling to eat, barely sleeping. You’re leaving me, disappearing without a word just because of some little fight?” I chuckled bitterly. For days, Amber’s TikToks had been about her new luxury gifts, her “perfect” life. “He said I’m his motivation to work so hard! He wants to buy me the best things the world has to offer!” “He’s almost saved enough, and soon we’ll move to the country of our dreams!” Those expensive gifts were things I wouldn’t have dreamed of asking for. I’d thought I was being considerate, not wanting to waste his hard-earned money on luxuries. Meanwhile, he’d been showering her with lavish presents, money flowing freely for her. I remembered his recent mention of an overseas assignment, a dream his boss wanted him to lead. He’d said that working abroad would triple his income and secure our future. That night, he’d clutched my hands with rare excitement. “This is too good to pass up, honey. It means you’ll have to care for my parents for a few years, though. But later, we’ll bring them to live with us, and they can keep you company!” I’d nodded, foolishly willing to support him. Yet now, he had the audacity to say he’d been struggling to “take care of me,” that he worked so hard for my sake? “Rick, do you even need my support?” I asked coolly. “What do you mean?” His voice sharpened with tension. I said nothing. The tone on the other end shifted to irritation. “Lauren, tell me where you are. I’ll come to get you.” He went on, saying our anniversary was coming up and he’d even gotten me a gift this time. I cut him off. “Don’t bother. Let’s meet at the family court at nine tomorrow.”
The next day at the family court, I didn’t find Rick—but I did find my parents. They’d taken a last-minute train and arrived without warning. “Lori, what’s going on? Rick said you’ve been gone for days and are dead-set on a divorce!” Mom leaned in, looking worried. “Tell us the truth, honey. Did you do something to hurt Rick? Look, he’s such a good man, a straightforward guy. You know we all love him! Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” I’d been up all night, my head pounding, and this just made it worse. In my parents’ eyes, Rick was the ideal son-in-law. I used to believe he was the perfect husband, too. But that was only because he’d hidden his secrets so well. Rick knew me too well. He must’ve realized I was serious about the divorce, and that’s why he dragged my parents into this. I could handle his affair, but using my parents’ worries against me was going too far. It took a lot of gentle persuasion, but eventually, I calmed them down. Rick’s latest stunt was beyond infuriating. If he wanted to make this ugly, fine. I’d make him the one begging for a divorce. That night, I followed Amber on TikTok from my main account. The moment I opened my inbox, a new message popped up: she’d followed me back. “Who are you?” her message read. My profile picture was one of me and Rick. Even if she didn’t know me, she would surely recognize him. “Let’s skip the act and talk,” I replied. She sent a friend request on Facebook, and once I accepted, I hit video call. My heart pounded, but I steadied myself as the call connected. “Lauren Bennett,” Amber said with a smirk, “didn’t think you had the nerve to reach out.” “Amber,” I replied calmly, “what makes you think you’re better than me, flaunting my husband around?” She laughed. “Oh, honey, you’re so pitiful!” I laughed back. “No, Amber, you’re the pitiful one. You’ve been playing house with a married man for seven years—without a marriage license.” She blanched, her face tightening. “You two are married? You have a certificate?” I held my marriage certificate up to the camera, flipping through its pages for her to see. Amber squinted, taking in every detail. “He married you? Seven years ago?” Her voice shook. I played a recording of a recent conversation with Rick. “We’re legally married, Amber, and I’ve already asked for a divorce. But guess what? He won’t agree.” Amber’s face turned ashen. “Why won’t he agree?” “Maybe he loves me too much to let go,” I said with a slight smile. “So, this is just some twisted flex?” she spat. I held up a bill from Rick’s purchases and placed it against the camera. “No, Amber, I just wanted you to know that every penny Rick spent on you came from our joint account. Everything you’ve enjoyed—yeah, you’ll be paying me back for that.” Amber’s face paled further, her lips trembling. “The money he spent on me is nothing. I don’t care about the cash—I just enjoy his devotion!” Her eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you are to judge me? You’re broke and plain, only good for keeping house and playing wifey. You don’t stand a chance.” Her sneer continued as she added, “Rick’s plan has always been to work abroad with my family’s money. They’re ready to give him millions for that move—a number you can’t even imagine. What could you possibly bring to the table?” So, that was his plan. Rick had never told me anything about it. If he’d shared his dream with me, I’d have been willing to support him. But I’d learned enough by now. I ended the call without another word, ignoring her last bout of gloating. Sure enough, later that evening, Rick showed up at my door.
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