Husband Texts He’s in a Business Meeting & Cancels Our Date—I Saw Him Leaving Work at the Same Time

My mother would bake a cake every year on their anniversary, even if my father had dinner plans for them.

“It’s important to celebrate a marriage, Leighton,” my mother would say.

And she would usually be decorating the cake at this point.

“I mean, you’ll understand it one day,” she said. “But married life is difficult, and that’s why you have to celebrate making it another year.”

And then I met Josh, who seemed to understand the importance of it — or at least, the sentimentality of it all.

So, the other day was our sixth anniversary, and because it was the middle of the week, there just wasn’t going to be enough time to plan something intimate at home.

A dinner out was going to be our best option.

“It’s not a bad idea, Leighton,” Josh said when I told him that we had to settle on that.

“It’s much easier, anyway,” I said, thinking about the fuss of getting home and having to cook an elaborate dinner after a long day at the office.

Then, on the day, I arranged to pick Josh up from work, excited for our romantic dinner at our favorite restaurant.

I left work a little earlier than usual and parked across the road from Josh’s building, waiting for him to leave work. I sat in the car, reapplying my lipstick and sorting my hair out. I sang along to the radio and waited.

Twenty minutes later, Josh still hadn’t come out. I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer either.

Hey, honey! I’m waiting outside — I’m parked across the flower shop.

Not even a minute later, my phone pinged with a text message notification.

Caught up in a meeting, don’t wait for me. I’ll see you at home.

My heart sank. I understood the importance of work — especially because Josh loved his job, and he always brought work home, often going through spreadsheets in bed at night.

I was disappointed, I mean, it was our special day. But I knew that these things were sometimes beyond our control. I picked up my phone to reply before driving off.

Sure, see you later.

Starting the car, I could only think about sinking my teeth into a sugary donut.

“You can’t keep eating your feelings,” I told myself. “But today calls for it.”

Just then, I saw Josh push open the building door, his briefcase at his side, and his phone in his hand.

Moments ago, I could imagine eating a donut, now I could only taste confusion and betrayal thick on my tongue.

Of course, I followed him. I needed to know who was driving the car and where they were headed.

I needed to know who my husband would rather spend our anniversary with if not me.

I followed the car for about fifteen minutes before it started to slow down — we were just outside of town now. There were fewer buildings around, and it was quieter. If anything, the air seemed lighter and fresh.

Eventually, the car led me to a decrepit motel on the outskirts of the city. I watched, hidden by the shadows, as my husband got out of the car. Moments later, another man stepped out of the car.

He was also in a suit, holding onto a stack of paperwork. But he walked in another direction — to the motel office, it seemed.

I couldn’t sit back any longer. My feet moved on their own accord across the street, and there I was, outside the door that was slightly ajar.

A murmur of voices seeped out, spilling onto the pavement.

Pushing the door open, my eyes landed on a scene that knocked the wind out of me.

There was Josh, sitting at a little table, surrounded by paperwork. Directly across from him was a woman. But it wasn’t just any woman, it was Sophia — Josh’s first love.

It made no sense, but at the same time, a story seemed to be unfolding.

“Happy anniversary,” I said, the words laced with bitterness.

My husband leaped up, his face full of shock and his mouth hanging open.

“Leighton,” he said. “It’s not what it looks like!”

Sophia, her face flushed with surprise, began gathering the papers.

“Then what is it?” I asked. “You skipped dinner for whatever this is.”

“No, Leighton, listen,” Sophia interjected, her voice calm, trying to soothe the storm.

“What are those papers for?” I asked.

I couldn’t see what they were, but my mind was convinced that they were divorce papers. Why else would my husband be sitting in a motel room with another woman?

“What?” I asked, genuinely surprised by the turn of events.

“We thought that it would make a perfect business venture,” Sophia said. “This isn’t about me, Leighton. I just have the contacts to help it happen. The man who drove Josh here is my husband. He’s sorting out the final paperwork with the owner, who happens to be his brother-in-law.”

My husband nodded earnestly, adding, “I wanted this to be our new start, something that you and I could build together. To create a legacy for ourselves. This was supposed to be official last week, but there was a delay with the owner.”

The room was thick with tension as I processed their words.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” my voice softened as my heart rate slowed down.

Sophia looked from Josh to me and back to the pile of paperwork. She helped herself to a piece of candy from the dish in front of her.

“I thought keeping it a surprise until everything was set would be… I don’t know, more special?” he said.

He looked down at the dirty carpet beneath our feet.

“The moment my husband gets back with the signed documents, Josh can sign, and we’ll be done here,” Sophia said, picking up her handbag.

“Have a seat,” Josh said, pulling out a chair for me. “The moment I sign, we can get out of here.”

Sophia excused herself, claiming that she wanted to check out the vending machine because she was starving.

“You really just wanted this to be a surprise?” I asked Josh.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ve been looking into property for a while now. I want it to be our safety net in terms of finances.”

We sat together and spoke for a little while longer before Sophia and her husband came in, carrying the stack of paperwork that I had seen him holding earlier.

“Almost done now,” Sophia said, handing Josh a pen.

A little while later, we were in my car, with Josh driving us home.

We went to a diner not too far away from our home.

“No more secrets, Josh,” I said as our food arrived.

“I promise,” he said, reaching for my hand across the table, his eyes earnest.

As we drove home, I realized that although the night had not gone as planned, perhaps it needed to have been that way. With a promise renewed and a future venture to embark on together.

But as Josh showered that evening, I pulled out the anniversary cake that I had gotten the day before. As it had been my parents’ tradition, I wanted it to become ours.

“This is better than a fancy dinner,” he said.

After seeing the motel, I know that there’s going to be a lot of time and dedication going into it. At least while we try to make it our own.

I have paint swatches and room layouts already planned in my head.

Bride Claimed I Destroyed My Son’s Wedding Because of My Outfit Choice – Was I Really Wrong Here?

All I wanted was to be the mother-of-the-groom. That’s it. I just wanted to be the doting mother who loved her son more than anything—but this is the story of how my attempt to make my son’s wedding perfect turned into a day we’d all rather forget.

Mark had big dreams, and I knew that my son was always going to reach for the stars.

But they made it work—and they were a sweet couple for the most part. But love, as they say, is blind.

When Mark proposed to Alice, we were all invited to the scene to help surprise her.

“Please, Mom,” Mark said on the phone. “Alice isn’t close to her family, so to see you and Dad there will be good for her. She’ll know that she’s welcomed and supported.”

After a few months into the wedding planning, I met Alice at a coffee shop so that we could go over the details. But we clashed on everything.

“I think roses are timeless,” I said, helping myself to a slice of cake.

“They are, but they’re also overdone in a sense,” Alice said, sipping her tea. “Mark and I want peonies.”

Of course, we didn’t see eye-to-eye.

But then, on the wedding day, everything changed.

Upon opening the door, Alice looked up—her joyful expression collapsing into one of utter devastation. She looked me up and down before bursting into tears.

Read the full story here.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.