I had sold my parents’ lake house and my car to fund my husband Alton’s dream vineyard. I trusted him completely, never questioning that the life we were building together was for us. That trust, however, shattered with a single phone call on my way to the bank.
It was dawn when I sat on the edge of our worn bed, watching Alton sleep. He always slept so peacefully, as if the weight of bills and responsibilities didn’t exist. I lightly touched his shoulder.
“Alton, wake up. I’m taking the money to the bank today, like we agreed,” I whispered.
He stirred, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, darling. Up early again, huh?”
“Well, someone has to be.”
I rose to brew his coffee, letting the aroma fill the kitchen as he sat, dreaming aloud about rows of vines and bottles of our own wine. Five minutes later, he appeared in the doorway, grabbing his mug.
“Adelaide, you know I love you, right? You’re my anchor. My everything,” he said, eyes warm.
I gave a faint smile. “Tell me again. What’s the plan?”
He set his mug down, arms spreading wide as if the vineyard was already ours. “We’ll have our own land, rows of grapes, pure wine, no additives. People will come from miles away. Our name on every bottle. And that’s just the start!”
“And the kids? When can we send Elias to a better school?” I asked.
“Soon, darling, soon. It’ll all come together. You sold the lake house—that’s the foundation.”
I nodded. That house held my last memories of Mom and Dad. But if it helped Alton build his dream…
“Your money’s the final piece,” he added, brushing his fingers against my cheek. “I adore you, you know that?”
“We’re family, Alton. You said the vineyard is our dream together.”
“Of course, darling,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Nothing will tear us apart. You’re my lucky star.”
I packed the envelope with the money, ready to deposit it at the bank, believing in him completely. Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. The screen read: VERONA.
I didn’t know any Verona. Hesitant, I answered.
“Hey, love…” The voice was warm, too intimate for a wrong number.
“You’re not answering. Did she leave yet? I’ve been waiting for you…”
My stomach churned. I froze, realizing this wasn’t my phone. Alton and I had switched phones that morning. This was his. Verona’s voice echoed in my mind.
I rifled through the bag, my hands shaking, seeing the unsent messages he hadn’t bothered to hide: “Meet you in thirty.” / “Miss you already.”
It hit me.
In ten minutes, I was back in the house, placing his phone on the kitchen table as if it had never left. When Alton returned, he smiled at me, oblivious.
“Hey! Seen my phone?” he asked.
“On the table. Right where you left it,” I replied.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
Not today, Alton.
I followed him discreetly when he left, watching from a distance as he entered a quaint house with blue shutters. Verona, a striking brunette barely in her thirties, greeted him with a laugh that made my blood boil.
I waited until he drove off, then approached her. “Yes? Can I help you?” she asked, puzzled.
“I think you can. I’m Alton’s wife,” I said. Her mouth fell open.
“His… wife?”
“Yes. Adelaide. The one footing the bills. The one he’s building his vineyard with.”
Her expression darkened, but she motioned me inside. “Come in. We’re not doing this outside.”
“Who are you to my husband? Why’s he here instead of at a business meeting?” I asked.
Verona lifted her chin. “I’m the woman he’s going to marry. After he leaves you.”
“Marry you? He said that?”
“Yes. You’re suffocating, controlling. I’ll help him start over—with money for lawyers, divorce, and alimony for your son.”
I stared. “I sold my parents’ lake house for his vineyard. I was on my way to deposit every cent I had for him.”
“You didn’t?” she asked, incredulous.
“No. Your call stopped me. I picked up his phone by mistake. Heard your voice.”
We shared a knowing glance, two women wronged by the same man.
“If we let him think he has us both, he’ll walk right into his own trap,” I whispered.
She smiled faintly. “And then?”
“We take back what’s ours,” I said.
The plan unfolded perfectly. I let Alton believe he had received the money. Verona played her part, telling him she was ready with her share. They arranged a dinner. I arrived early, disguised in a wig and coat, sitting behind them, hidden in plain sight.
Minutes later, the scene unfolded. Alton greeted Verona with affection, unaware I was watching. She questioned him about the money. I bit back a laugh. Ruin him? I was about to.
Finally, I revealed myself. “Hi, honey,” I said, tossing the wig aside. “Your big deal’s almost done, huh?”
Alton’s face went pale. “Adelaide? What the—”
Verona smirked. “Surprise, Alton. Your wife and your girlfriend finally agree on something.”
He sputtered, trying to regain composure. “Who’s the fool here?”
Verona shook her head. “Not me. Not anymore.”
“No, Alton. I didn’t send a cent. One call from Verona saved me. Next time, don’t leave your phone behind when you’re playing two women,” I added, dropping a dollar on the table.
We walked out together, laughing. Verona nudged me.
“Ever think we’d end up here?”
“Not once. But if you need a partner in crime, I’m your girl.”
“Extra cheese?”
“Extra cheese. And a strong drink.”
Two women who had given too much finally reclaimed what was theirs, leaving Alton to face the consequences of his own lies.