How I Got Catfished by my Husband and fell miserably in-love with a mysterious man online.
Two years into my marriage, a mysterious package arrived, sent by someone who went by the name “Special Anonymous.”
Inside the box were two stunning gifts: a brand-new iPhone and a dazzling diamond necklace. The sheer value of these items left me speechless, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell my husband.
Each time I attempted to confess, my words evaporated into smiles. You see, my husband, Charles, was a wonderful man, and our two-year marriage had been filled with joy. However, a tiny issue began to cast a shadow over our otherwise blissful union.
Charles, though financially capable, never thought to surprise me with gifts. Whenever I saw videos of other men showering their partners with affection and tokens of love, my heart ached.
Charles was a man of routine and formality. Our conversations often felt as though I were speaking to my boss rather than my spouse. I yearned for a lighter, more playful marriage, one where we’d share silly moments and playful gestures.
Charles, on the other hand, focused solely on providing for our household, and it frustrated me.
“How much do you need for this month’s expenses?” he’d inquire.
“I just transferred 200k.”
“The driver will take you to the mall.”
Our marriage had become predictable and dull.
Most of all, I wished Charles would surprise me with a gift, look deep into my eyes, and declare his love for me. Sadly, he rarely gazed at me for long. So, when I started receiving romantic gestures from an anonymous admirer, it was only natural for butterflies to flutter within me. I even received a bouquet once with a note that read, “I hope you get reminded of how beautiful and sweet you are.”
My heart raced with excitement. It didn’t take long for me to daydream about this mysterious stranger and the possibilities of a sweeter life.
One day, I returned home to find Charles holding a small box, looking puzzled. He asked, “Who sent this?” My heart sank.
Lying to my husband was never part of the plan when we got married, but receiving gifts from the anonymous stranger turned me into a skilled deceiver. “My sister must have sent it,” I fibbed, hastily taking the box from him.
He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but when he saw the bracelet inside, a smile graced his face. Sisters did give each other gifts like that occasionally, right?
That night, after making love, I still felt empty and lost. Charles treated everything like a duty, not an expression of love.
Amidst my solitude, I picked up my phone and checked my unread messages. My heart raced as I read a message from the anonymous admirer: “Do you love the bracelet?” A smile formed on my lips as I replied with a quick “Yes, thank you.”
“How did you get my number?” I inquired, but he had already gone offline. That night was agonizingly long as I kept checking my phone for a message that never came.
The next day, Charles left for work after a perfunctory peck on my cheek. I sighed deeply and reached for my phone, hoping for a message from my mysterious correspondent.
Five minutes later, a message arrived: “Let’s just say I got your number from a colleague. I won’t reveal who, nor my name.”
I chuckled, knowing one of my colleagues must have been careless enough to share my contact, even though they knew I was married. “I’ll send you something today to show how much I cherish you,” he promised before going offline.
Later that day, I received a Gucci bag at work. I was nearly ecstatic, knowing its worth. I texted my gratitude, and he replied with a heart emoji.
Returning home, Charles noticed the package in my hands and asked, “Another gift from your sister?” I hesitated and then replied, “No, I got this one for myself. I couldn’t wait for month-end.”
My relationship with “Special Anonymous” intensified, and I found myself drifting away from Charles. I’d often sit in the living room, waiting for his messages, content with texts alone.
Charles noticed my distraction but didn’t have the courage to inquire further. Life continued this way, with me cherishing my secret admirer’s messages. His compliments and promises to meet someday filled me with happiness.
I didn’t even care about what he looked like; his gifts and words showed he understood a woman’s desires.
One day, a friend suggested tracing the phone number’s location for fun. We called a guy who specialized in such matters.
“№5, Greenland Avenue,” he said, staring at his computer screen.
I must have misheard. “Yes, that’s where I live,” I replied, stunned.
I returned home in a panic, not believing what I’d heard. My instincts led me to Charles’s bag atop the wardrobe, where I found a hidden phone.
Everything on that phone pointed to “Special Anonymous” being none other than Charles.
I froze, trembling, my mind a whirlwind of questions. Why had he kept this secret? Why had I lied about the gifts he’d given me?
It became clear that he’d chosen anonymity to give me what I yearned for. I cried, knowing I had betrayed my husband.
Since that revelation, we haven’t spoken. Our lives continue as before, but I’m certain that when the truth surfaces, I’ll lose him.
END.
Stay tuned! for PART 2
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