I Got Punished for Opening My Wife's Premium Gift Set

It turned out, just because someone acted kind to others, didn't mean they'd receive kindness in return.

"Stay right there and think about what you've done!"

I was left alone again in the pigpen.

Night fell. My stomach began to churn violently. The pain twisted deep in my gut. I'd always had stomach problems—an old condition made worse by the endless drinking I’d done to help Tyler win over clients.

Back then, Tyler used to set out my medication for me, always right on time. Now, ironically, the pain I felt was because of her.

The cramps spread like fire through every nerve in my body. With no one around for miles, I had no choice but to call her again.

She didn’t answer.

I tried seven times.

Finally, someone picked up. But it wasn’t her voice—it was Oscar’s. “Yo, Teddy, Tyler’s in the shower. What do you want?”

I clenched my fists, but the pain in my gut wouldn’t let up.

“Put Tyler on the phone.”

Oscar chucled. “Whoa, you forget your place or something? You’re talking to me like that? Keep it up and I’ll make sure things get a lot worse for you.”

In the background, I heard Tyler’s playful voice, “Ozy, can you grab me a towel?”

Then the call got even louder—Oscar had clearly walked into the bathroom with the phone still on. I heard kissing sounds, giggling, the slap of skin.

Tyler’s voice was breathy, “Ugh, why do you have to kiss me like that? I can barely breathe. You’re so bad...”

The sounds continued, noisy and intimate—like they wanted me to hear every second of it. My stomach twisted tighter.

Minutes passed before things quieted down. Then Oscar, like he’d just remembered I was still on the line, brought the phone to Tyler.

“Hey, your husband called. Forgot to mention.”

His laugh echoed through the speaker. In the background, I could hear water running and Tyler playfully scolding him.

I was curled up on a pile of moldy straw, soaked in cold sweat, stomach in full spasm.

“I... I think I’m having a serious flare-up,” I choked out. “Please... I need help...”

There was a beat of silence. Then Oscar’s voice, suddenly louder and mocking, “Tyler, your husband says he’s in so much pain he might die. Should we be nice and help him out?”

Tyler laughed with amusement, “Tell him to drink some of the pig trough water. Maybe that’ll flush out his system.”

Oscar burst out laughing.

“Great idea! Hear that, Teddy? Tyler says pig slop works better than medicine!”

I bit down so hard on my lower lip that I tasted blood before realizing I’d broken the skin.

The night wind swept through the pigsty, thick with the stench of manure. It filled my throat and churned my already ravaged stomach. The pain turned into a wave of nausea and I vomited violently—but all that came up was bitter stomach acid.

Then I heard their voices again. Somehow, they made me feel even sicker.

“Oh, almost forgot to share the good news,” Tyler said, her voice suddenly calm—almost cheerful.

“You know that big contract you’ve been obsessing over for years? I signed it over to your competitor yesterday. I mean, really… who would want to work with someone who eats pig slop?”

That deal had been three years in the making. I’d poured everything I had into it.

“Why?” I choked out. “Why, Tyler? Do you have any idea how much I gave for that project?”

All this pain, all this humiliation—I thought it would be worth it if I could just land that deal. Now, I had nothing.

Tyler was dismissive. “Oh please. It’s just one deal. Don’t be so dramatic. Ozy told me about a much better investment opportunity. So I put the money there instead.”

“Ugh, honestly… You and your stupid laptop, always working on those endless proposals. What’s the point? You’re not even worth one of Ozy’s toenails.”

Their laughter rang through the speaker, like none of this mattered.

“Oh right,” Oscar chimed in, “I accidentally deleted that proposal of yours. Your computer’s a piece of junk—it couldn’t even open the file.”