“My Husband Said He Was Volunteering at Night… But the Mayor’s Wife Just Told Me the Truth”
A month ago, James strolled into the kitchen, kissed me on the cheek, and made his big announcement.
“I’m going to be volunteering at night now. Community patrols. Keep vandals from spray-painting walls and tipping trash cans.”
It was so out of character for him. James had never been much of a “volunteer for the greater good” type—unless you counted coaching our son’s soccer team back when Tyler was ten. But I smiled and told him I was proud. Honestly, it sounded kind of noble.
Three nights a week, he’d put on dark clothes, grab a flashlight, and head out into the cool night air. I’d curl up with Netflix, a blanket, and my secret stash of dark chocolate. Everything felt… routine. Safe.
Until last Thursday.
The phone rang just after 10 p.m. I almost let it go to voicemail—the number wasn’t in my contacts. But something made me swipe to answer.
“Is this… James’ wife?”
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
“This is Linda… the mayor’s wife. You probably don’t know me, but… you need to sit down.”
I laughed nervously—because when does someone ever start a call like that unless it’s about to be very bad?
“What’s this about?” I asked, my grip tightening on the phone.
There was a pause, and then her voice dropped to a whisper, like she was afraid someone might overhear.
“Your husband isn’t on any community patrols. He’s been spending those nights with me.”
My blood turned cold.
Linda went on, quickly, almost tripping over her words. “It’s not what you think—at least, not for me. I only found out he was married last week. He told me he was divorced. I thought you deserved to know. And… you should probably also know that he’s been using city funds to cover our hotel stays.”
The kitchen spun around me. My mind replayed every kiss goodbye, every “late-night volunteer shift,” every time I’d sat alone thinking he was out protecting the community.
By the time she finished, I was gripping the counter to stay upright.
James walked in twenty minutes later, whistling, smelling faintly of cologne that wasn’t mine.
I didn’t even let him take off his coat before I said, “How was patrol, dear?”
The look on his face told me everything Linda hadn’t.