I Attended My Husband’s Office Party for the First Time, but I Never Expected to See His Other ‘Wife’ There

When Jennifer stumbled upon an email inviting her husband to a glamorous New Year’s party with a plus-one allowed, her curiosity was piqued. But what she uncovered at the event shattered her trust, setting the stage for an unexpected twist of fate.

The laptop pinged, interrupting the movie we were watching. Oliver had just gone to the bathroom, leaving his laptop open on the coffee table.

An open laptop | Source: Pexels

An open laptop | Source: Pexels

I glanced at the screen, the glowing subject line catching my eye.

“Dear Mr. Oliver,

We are happy to announce the New Year party is coming up! Dress code: White Party. You may bring your plus-one (your wife). Address…”

A shocked woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels

I blinked, rereading the email. His company never allowed plus-ones. Never. I couldn’t count the number of times I had heard him complain about it. Yet, there it was in black and white—plus-one (your wife).

When Oliver came back, I tried to play it cool, though my curiosity was bubbling. “Your office is throwing a New Year’s party?” I asked casually.

An excited woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels

An excited woman looking at her laptop | Source: Pexels

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, picking up his laptop and closing it before I could say more. “Nothing big. Just the usual end-of-year stuff.”

“Can I come?” I asked, tilting my head and smiling.

He froze for half a second before brushing it off. “No, they don’t allow guests. It’s more of a work event.”

I frowned. “But the email said—”

A frowning woman on the couch | Source: Pexels

A frowning woman on the couch | Source: Pexels

“They don’t, Jen. Trust me.” His tone was clipped, and he didn’t meet my eyes. “Anyway, I’ll just be working that night. No big deal.”

That was the first time I felt something strange. Oliver always worked late or traveled for business, so I had gotten used to him being away. I trusted him, because that’s what you do in a marriage. But this time, his response felt… off.

A suspicious woman | Source: Pexels

A suspicious woman | Source: Pexels

New Year’s Eve arrived, and I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my white dress. Curiosity had gnawed at me for days. Why didn’t he want me at the party? Was he embarrassed? Hiding something?

“Happy New Year, Jen!” he called as he grabbed his coat, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Happy New Year,” I replied, watching him leave.

A man putting on his coat | Source: Midjourney

A man putting on his coat | Source: Midjourney

As soon as the door clicked shut, I grabbed my purse and headed out.

The hotel where the party was held glowed like a jewel in the night. The lobby was decorated with silver streamers, twinkling lights, and elegant floral arrangements. Guests in sparkling white outfits mingled, laughter and conversation filling the air. I felt both nervous and determined as I approached the reception desk.

A woman in a hotel | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hotel | Source: Midjourney

“Name, please?” the manager asked with a polite smile, glancing up from his clipboard.

“Jennifer. I’m Oliver’s wife,” I said confidently.

His smile faltered for a moment, and he looked down at his list, then back up at me. Then, he laughed. “Nice try!”

“I’m Jennifer,” I repeated. “Oliver’s wife.”

A woman at a reception desk | Source: Midjourney

A woman at a reception desk | Source: Midjourney

The manager’s expression turned awkward. “Oh… uh…” He hesitated, then cleared his throat. “I think there’s been some confusion. Oliver already checked in… with his plus-one. His real wife.”

My chest tightened. “What?”

“Yes, he arrived about 30 minutes ago. They always arrive together, I’ve seen them many times.” He winced slightly, as if bracing for my reaction.

“I’m his wife,” I said sharply, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

A hotel manager | Source: Pexels

A hotel manager | Source: Pexels

He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again, his face apologetic. “Let me double-check the guest list.”

Before he could move, I caught a glimpse of Oliver in the far corner of the room. He was easy to spot in his crisp white suit. My breath caught when I saw him with her—a woman with long dark hair, her arm resting on his shoulder. They were laughing, leaning in close, their body language unmistakably intimate.

A couple at a party | Source: Pexels

A couple at a party | Source: Pexels

The world seemed to spin. The glitzy decorations blurred as my mind raced.

“Ma’am?” the manager asked gently, breaking into my thoughts.

I turned back to him, my voice suddenly calm. “No need to check. I see him.”

He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something, but I was already walking away from the desk, away from the party, and away from Oliver.

A woman leaving a hotel | Source: Midjourney

A woman leaving a hotel | Source: Midjourney

Outside, the cold air stung my face, but it didn’t dull the fire burning inside me. I wrapped my coat tighter around me, my heels clicking on the sidewalk as I made my way to my car.

I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, but I knew one thing: Oliver was going to regret this.

A sad woman walking on the street | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman walking on the street | Source: Midjourney

The next day, the phone rang just as I was pouring my morning coffee. I almost didn’t answer, still angry about last night, but something made me pick up.

“Is this Mr. Oliver’s wife?” a calm, professional voice asked.

“Yes,” I replied, my stomach twisting.

A serious woman walking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A serious woman walking on her phone | Source: Pexels

“This is Mercy Hospital. Your husband was in a car accident early this morning. He’s stable, but we need you to come in right away.”

My breath caught. “A car accident? Is he… is he okay?”

“He has a concussion and a broken arm. There are complications we’ll explain when you arrive.”

A hospital professional talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A hospital professional talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

I didn’t say another word. I grabbed my coat and rushed out the door, my anger from the night before swirling with worry.

At the hospital, the antiseptic smell hit me as I walked into the waiting area. Nurses bustled by, their faces neutral, while I stood there, my heart racing.

“Jennifer?” a doctor called, walking toward me. He was middle-aged, with a kind but serious expression.

A medical professional | Source: Pexels

A medical professional | Source: Pexels

“Yes. Is Oliver okay?”

“He’s stable for now, but there’s an issue we need to address,” he explained, motioning for me to sit. “His arm is fractured in several places. There’s a risk of long-term damage unless we operate soon. Unfortunately, there’s a problem with his insurance. His policy lapsed last month. As his wife, you can authorize the procedure and arrange payment.”

A woman talking to a doctor | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to a doctor | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, trying to process his words. “His insurance… lapsed? Why didn’t he renew it?”

The doctor shook his head. “I can’t speak to that, but we do need to act quickly. Will you authorize the surgery?”

When I stepped into Oliver’s room, the sight of him startled me. His face was pale, a bandage wrapped around his head. His arm was in a sling, and he looked more fragile than I’d ever seen him.

A man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

A man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

“Jen,” he croaked when he saw me, his voice weak.

“Oliver,” I said stiffly, standing by the door.

His eyes searched mine, pleading. “I know you’re upset, but please… just listen. It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, it’s exactly what I think,” I said, my voice icy. “You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me. And last night, I saw you with her. You brought her to that party, didn’t you?”

An angry woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

His face went pale. “I can explain—”

“I don’t want your explanations,” I snapped, cutting him off. “The doctor says you need surgery, but your insurance lapsed. That sounds like a problem for your real wife to handle.”

“Jen, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I made a mistake. Please, just sign the papers.”

A sad man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

A sad man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

I stared at him for a long moment, my heart pounding. Part of me wanted to scream, to cry, to give in and help him. But then I thought of all the times I had trusted him, only to find out it was all a lie.

“No, Oliver,” I said, my voice firm. “You’ve made your choices. Now you can live with them.”

I turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

A woman leaving a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

A woman leaving a hospital room | Source: Midjourney

In the hallway, my steps felt lighter, as if a weight had lifted off my chest. For the first time in years, I realized I wasn’t responsible for cleaning up his messes.

It was over. Whatever happened next was up to him.

A few days later, I received a call from the hospital. It wasn’t the doctor. It was Oliver.

“Jen, please,” he begged. His voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. “She didn’t come. I’m alone here. I need you.”

A man talking on his phone in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

A man talking on his phone in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

I said nothing, gripping the phone tightly as his words sank in. The “real wife” wasn’t so real after all. She hadn’t shown up, not for the surgery, not for anything. She’d disappeared the moment she realized he wasn’t the man he pretended to be.

“Jen?” he whispered.

“You made your choice, Oliver,” I said, my tone steady. “Now you can deal with the consequences.”

A serious woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A serious woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

I hung up and blocked his number.

In the weeks that followed, I heard through mutual friends that Oliver’s career was falling apart. Word of his affair spread at work. The woman he’d paraded at the party was no longer seen with him, and his charm didn’t seem to fool anyone anymore.

But I didn’t feel sorry for him. I felt free.

A woman smiling with a balloon | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling with a balloon | Source: Pexels

For the first time in years, I wasn’t carrying the weight of his lies. Instead of worrying about his needs, I focused on myself.

I signed up for a pottery class—a silly dream I’d put off for years. I spent weekends hiking trails I’d always wanted to explore. I started painting again, filling my apartment with canvases splashed with color.

For years, I, Jennifer, had been the dutiful wife. But now, Jen was stepping into her own life.

A happy woman painting | Source: Pexels

A happy woman painting | Source: Pexels

Woman Leaves Newborn on Business Class Plane Seat, Decides to Find Him 13 Years Later

Rhonda’s life took an unexpected turn when she discovered she was pregnant. Her father, David Harris, was outraged upon learning the news. Coming from a wealthy family, Rhonda had been provided with everything by her father, who owned a large textile company. However, he was a controlling man who couldn’t accept the idea of his daughter raising a child with Peter, her boyfriend, who came from a lower-class background.Despite her father’s orders to terminate the pregnancy, 16-year-old Rhonda refused. Faced with her father’s ultimatum to either abort the baby or leave the house, Rhonda chose to leave. She packed her belongings and sought refuge with Peter, only to face another crushing blow—
Peter refused to take responsibility for the child and ended their relationship. Devastated and homeless, Rhonda wandered the streets, her life in shambles. As fate would have it, Rhonda went into labor on the streets, and a kind woman named Angela Bamford came to her aid, rushing her to the hospital. Rhonda gave birth to a baby boy, but her situation remained dire. Angela, who had lost her own daughter under similar circumstances, sympathized with Rhonda and offered to help her. Angela booked Rhonda a business class ticket to New York, hoping she could start anew there. During the flight, Rhonda was consumed by doubts and fears about her ability to care for her newborn. Overwhelmed by anxiety, she made the heartbreaking decision to leave her baby on the plane, hoping that someone would find him and give him a better life. She left a note with the baby, naming him Matthew Harris, and walked away, leaving her child behind.Years passed, and Rhonda struggled to rebuild her life. After nearly a decade of hardship, she finally secured a stable job and a place to live. However, the guilt of abandoning her son haunted her daily. Determined to find Matthew and make amends, Rhonda sought help from the police. To her relief, she discovered that her son had been adopted by Lincy, the flight attendant who had found him, and her husband. Rhonda reached out to Matthew’s adoptive mother and shared her story, hoping for a chance to meet her son. When Rhonda finally met Matthew, now 13 years old, he was furious and rejected her. He couldn’t understand how his biological mother could have abandoned him. Despite Rhonda’s attempts to explain, Matthew couldn’t bring himself to accept her as his mother. With time, however, Matthew softened. Though he initially refused to call Rhonda “mom,” he agreed to let her visit him on weekends. Over the next ten years, their relationship gradually improved. Matthew, now 23 and working as a data scientist in New York, forgave Rhonda and accepted her as his mother, understanding that her actions were driven by desperation.Rhonda’s life has continued to change. She recently started dating a man named Andrew and is considering marriage, but she wants to discuss it with Matthew first. She also reconnected with Angela Bamford, who was pleased to see that Rhonda’s life had finally come together. Through perseverance and the support of those around her, Rhonda was able to rebuild her life and mend her relationship with the son she had once thought she’d lost forever.

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