My Husband Cheated on Me, And His Girlfriend Murdered Me

My colleague texted me a photo on WhatsApp and asked, [Livy, is that your husband? I just saw him at Central Mall.]

I opened the photo and saw Garet walking with a woman, her arms full of shopping bags. Instantly, I recognized them as Garet and Jane. My hands were shaking, and my mind was spinning with disbelief. ‘No way, how? Why? Didn’t he say they were just a part of his past?’ I was overwhelmed with questions.

I tried to calm myself and dialed his number. When he picked up, I asked, “Where are you?” I was forcing myself to sound calm while pinching my own hands.

“I’m working on something, but I’ll be home soon,” he said quickly before hanging up. I felt dizzy, so I sat down with the soup I had made for us, but now eating alone felt like a cruel twist. My mind kept going back to the photo—why would he lie to me? Was he cheating on me?

An hour later, I heard the car pull into the garage. Garet came through the door looking fresh, with only a few wrinkles in his shirt. This was in stark contrast to the way he sounded on the phone earlier.

He saw me sitting at the kitchen bar with an empty bowl and asked, “You made soup?” He glanced at the stove, noticing what was left.

I didn’t say a word, just kept staring at him.

He seemed to pick up on my silence because he turned to face me and said, “You’re still upset, aren’t you? I’m sorry, last night was really urgent. Didn’t mean to make anyone worry.”

Even though I was still fuming about last night, the fact that he’d lied today and was hanging out with Jane behind my back was what really crushed me.

“What are you working on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

“Well, we’ve got some new cases—mostly missing persons,” he replied.

“Do any of those cases require a trip to Central Mall?” I pressed, watching his reaction closely.

He paused, and a strange look crossed his face—one I didn’t recognize. I used to be able to read him like a book, but this expression was new.

“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly caught off guard.

I showed him the photo I’d received earlier. “Looks like you’re having a great time with your old lover. Care to explain? I thought you were buried in work.”

“It’s not what it seems, Livy. I was at the mall for work, and I ran into her. We just ended up walking around together. It’s nothing,” he said.

“Stop lying! I don’t believe you anymore. You’re a liar and a cheat. I don’t even recognize you anymore!” I yelled. All my expectations and dreams of him being a good husband were shattered. I felt sick realizing how many lies had been hidden from me.

This was the first major fight we’d had in years, and he kept insisting that I was overreacting, denying everything. The frustration and betrayal were overwhelming, and I felt completely lost.

“You used to be so logical. What happened to you?” Garet snapped, clearly annoyed.

“And you used to be honest with me!” I shot back, trying to hold back tears before storming upstairs.

I slammed my bedroom door and locked it. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened. Was I really being cheated on? He’d told me just a few weeks ago not to worry.

Little did I know, this argument was just the beginning of a much bigger crack in our marriage, one that was only going to get wider.

After crying for what felt like hours, I eventually fell asleep and woke up in the afternoon. I looked around the house—Garet wasn’t there. Good. I wasn’t ready to see him just yet.

The rest of my day off felt like a waste. I lounged on the sofa, staring at the photo, trying to find some reason or explanation for why Garet and Jane were together. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it. I wanted to reach out to Roxanne for support, but I was mentally drained and not ready to talk about it.

The next day at the hospital, I saw Jane again. She looked as innocent as ever, and just seeing her made me feel even worse. I called her into my office, and as soon as she walked in, I said, “I know who you are now.”

“Huh, doc?” she asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

“You’re Garet’s ex,” I said, cutting to the chase. “Stop playing dumb. If you think you can take him from me, trust me, it won’t be an easy fight.”

She stared at me for a while before putting on a faint smirk. “Ms. Wilson, we’ll see,” she said, her tone laced with a subtle edge.

I was taken aback. The once-gentle young woman had suddenly turned into someone I barely recognized. Before I could come up with a reply, she excused herself and left with that same sweet, innocent smile she always wore.

Once she was gone, I realized she was playing some kind of mind game with me. I clenched my fists and muttered, “Yeah, we’ll see, little girl.”

From that moment on, Jane’s attitude towards me became noticeably more dismissive. She ignored many of my instructions, causing a slew of problems and increasing my workload.

Then one day, I noticed a new notification on my phone—someone had followed my Instagram account under the username “thedreamgirl.” I didn’t think much of it at first. Although I wasn’t very active on social media, I often got random followers for various reasons.

I was in the middle of work, so I just glanced at my phone and then went back to my paperwork. A few minutes later, my phone was buzzing with a flurry of notifications. I picked it up and saw that the account had spammed likes on almost all of my posts, even the oldest ones.

Curious, I clicked on the username. The profile that loaded was brand new—just following me and with no followers of its own. I raised my eyebrows in confusion. This was odd. Most of the random accounts that followed me were either bots or business profiles. Was this one just another bot?

But when I looked at the photos, I was stunned. There were three pictures, each more unsettling than the last.

The first photo was a high-angle selfie of a woman sitting in a car. I couldn’t see her face, just from her chin down. She was wearing a pink dress, and I could see a muscular arm resting on her stomach. The caption read, [My human seatbelt.]

The second photo was taken on an escalator. The woman and a man were holding hands, and she snapped the photo using the reflection in the mirror above the escalator. The location was tagged as Central Mall of Kingsleigh, but there was no caption.

The most recent photo was of a pair of doe eyes looking directly at the camera while leaning on a guy’s shoulder. The caption was just a red heart emoji.

I felt a shiver. Was this really happening? I tried to convince myself it was just a coincidence, but everything seemed too aligned. I recognized the man in the photos—Garet. Connecting the dots, it became clear that Jane was deliberately trying to mess with me. This was clearly intentional, and it made me feel sick.