My Husband Visited Our Older Neighbor Daily to Help Her with Chores Until I Found Women’s Underwear in His Pocket

When I found a pair of women’s underwear in my husband’s pocket, my world turned upside down. What started as innocent help for our elderly neighbor spiraled into a web of suspicion, secrets, and a mysterious young woman I never saw coming.

Chris and I have been married for ten years. We live in a quiet suburban neighborhood, the kind of place where everyone knows each other, and nothing much ever happens. It’s peaceful. It’s safe. We’ve built a simple life here.

A happy couple | Source: Pexels

A happy couple | Source: Pexels

Our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Wilson, is like family. She’s a sweet woman in her 60s, and she lives alone. She’s had some health issues lately, so Chris started helping her with little things around the house. At first, it was just simple stuff.

“Chris, could you fix the leaky faucet?” Mrs. Wilson would ask. Or “Can you help me move this chair?”

A smiling elderly woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling elderly woman | Source: Pexels

Chris never minded. He’s always been the helpful type. And Mrs. Wilson, well, she’s been like a grandmother to everyone on the block. So, I didn’t think much of it. It was normal for him to lend her a hand. It felt good to know we were helping someone who needed it.

But after a few weeks, things started to change. Chris was spending more and more time over there. What used to be a quick trip to fix something turned into hours. Sometimes, he’d be gone half the day.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

One afternoon, I asked him, “What’s taking so long over there?”

He looked a little surprised by my question. “Oh, Mrs. Wilson just needed some extra help today. We ended up talking for a while. She’s lonely, you know.”

It made sense, I guess. She didn’t have anyone else to talk to. But still, something didn’t feel right. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it. I didn’t say anything, though. I didn’t want to seem paranoid.

A mature woman with her husband | Source: Pexels

A mature woman with her husband | Source: Pexels

Then, a week later, I found something that made my heart stop.

I was doing laundry, emptying Chris’ pockets like I always do, when I pulled out a pair of women’s underwear. Lacy, small — definitely not mine. My hands trembled as I held them. My mind raced. Where did these come from? Why did Chris have them? My stomach twisted into knots as a thousand horrible thoughts flashed through my head.

Women's underwear | Source: Unsplash

Women’s underwear | Source: Unsplash

Was he cheating on me? With Mrs. Wilson? No, that couldn’t be. She was elderly and frail. It didn’t make sense. But if not her, then who?

I shoved the underwear back into his pocket, my heart pounding. I couldn’t confront him. Not yet. I needed more information. But more than anything, I needed proof.

An angry mature woman | Source: Freepik

An angry mature woman | Source: Freepik

That night, I could barely sleep. My mind kept replaying everything over and over again. Every excuse Chris had made, every long visit to Mrs. Wilson’s. Was he really helping her, or was something else going on? I didn’t know what to believe.

The next day, I decided to watch him. I needed to see for myself what was happening when he went over there.

A thoughtful, mature woman | Source: Pexels

A thoughtful, mature woman | Source: Pexels

So, when Chris left to “help Mrs. Wilson,” I waited about thirty minutes. Then, I quietly slipped out the back door, making my way through the yard, my heart racing in my chest. I felt ridiculous, sneaking around like this, but I had to know the truth.

When I reached Mrs. Wilson’s house, I crouched low by the window. I could hear voices inside, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Slowly, I raised myself up just enough to peek inside.

A woman crouching near a window | Source: Midjourney

A woman crouching near a window | Source: Midjourney

And that’s when I saw her.

There, lounging on the couch in a lacy robe, was a young woman. She was much younger than Mrs. Wilson, maybe in her twenties. She looked so comfortable, so at home. My heart nearly stopped. Who was she? And why was she in Mrs. Wilson’s house?

A woman in a robe | Source: Pexels

A woman in a robe | Source: Pexels

My mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Had Chris been sneaking around with this woman? Was this the real reason he was spending so much time there? I felt sick.

I ducked back down, my head spinning. I couldn’t stay there any longer. I needed answers, but I wasn’t sure I could handle them.

A shocked and upset woman standing near the window | Source: Midjourney

A shocked and upset woman standing near the window | Source: Midjourney

That night, I couldn’t keep it inside anymore. As soon as Chris walked through the door, I felt my heart racing. I had to know the truth, even if it tore me apart.

“We need to talk,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. I stood in the kitchen, gripping the counter.

Chris looked at me, confused. “What’s going on?”

A confused, mature man | Source: Pexels

A confused, mature man | Source: Pexels

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the lacy underwear I had found in his jeans. “I found this.”

His face went pale. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could feel the tension crackling in the air between us.

“Why,” I continued, my voice trembling, “do you have another woman’s underwear in your pocket? And who is the woman I saw at Mrs. Wilson’s house today? The one in the robe?”

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

Chris blinked, and for a second, I thought he might deny everything. But then he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Okay, I can explain,” he said, his voice quiet. “Just… let me explain.”

I folded my arms, waiting. My heart was pounding in my chest.

A mature man talking | Source: Pexels

A mature man talking | Source: Pexels

“The woman you saw… that’s Amy. She’s Mrs. Wilson’s granddaughter,” Chris began, his eyes searching mine for any sign of belief. “She moved in a few weeks ago to help take care of her. Mrs. Wilson’s health has been getting worse, and Amy’s been staying with her to help out.”

I frowned. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Why was she lounging around in a robe like she owned the place? And the underwear — how do you explain that?”

A woman lounging in a bathrobe | Source: Pexels

A woman lounging in a bathrobe | Source: Pexels

Chris looked pained, running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because… well, I knew how it might look. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, but obviously that backfired. As for the underwear, Mrs. Wilson asked if I could throw Amy’s laundry in with ours since I was already helping around the house.”

I stared at him, unsure what to think. His explanation made sense, but it also felt like it left too many gaps. Why hadn’t he just told me about Amy from the start? Why was he over there so much?

An angry woman with her arms folded | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman with her arms folded | Source: Midjourney

“Chris, I feel like you’ve been hiding things from me,” I said, my voice soft but strained. “You’ve been spending so much time there, and I’ve felt like you’re pulling away. I didn’t know what to think.”

Chris reached out, taking my hands. “I swear, nothing’s going on. I’m just trying to help out. I didn’t mean to make you feel this way, and I’m so sorry I didn’t explain things sooner. I should have.”

Holding hands | Source: Unsplash

Holding hands | Source: Unsplash

I pulled my hands back, biting my lip. I wanted to believe him. But could I?

The next day, I decided to go straight to the source. I needed to hear it from Mrs. Wilson herself. I walked over to her house, feeling a knot of nerves tightening in my stomach. What if Chris wasn’t telling the truth? What if this was something more?

An angry woman on the porch | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman on the porch | Source: Midjourney

When I knocked on the door, Mrs. Wilson answered with her usual warm smile. “Oh, dear, come on in,” she said, opening the door wide. Her frail frame moved slowly as she led me into the living room.

Amy was sitting on the couch, but this time, she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She looked up in surprise when she saw me.

A surprised young woman | Source: Pexels

A surprised young woman | Source: Pexels

“Hi,” I said, trying to sound casual, though I felt anything but. “I just… wanted to clear something up.”

Mrs. Wilson sat down in her armchair, looking from me to Amy, clearly sensing my unease. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

I took a deep breath and explained everything: how I’d found the underwear, how I’d seen Amy lounging around in a robe, and how Chris had been spending so much time in their home without telling me about Amy.

An elderly woman talking to her friend | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman talking to her friend | Source: Pexels

Amy’s eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry. I had no idea Chris didn’t tell you about me. I’ve been staying here to help Grandma, and he’s been such a huge help. I didn’t mean for anything to seem weird.”

Mrs. Wilson nodded. “Chris has been a godsend, really. I didn’t want to burden him, but he’s been insistent on helping with everything.”

A smiling elderly woman looking out of her window | Source: Pexels

A smiling elderly woman looking out of her window | Source: Pexels

I felt a bit of relief wash over me, but there was still a part of me that wasn’t entirely convinced. I smiled politely, trying to hide my lingering doubt.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, my voice tight. “I guess I just misunderstood.”

Later that evening, I called my sister. She had always been the one to give it to me straight, even when I didn’t want to hear it.

A middle-aged woman on her phone | Source: Pexels

A middle-aged woman on her phone | Source: Pexels

After I explained everything, there was a long pause on the other end of the phone.

“Listen,” my sister finally said, her voice serious. “I don’t want to make you paranoid, but are you sure Mrs. Wilson doesn’t have her own agenda?”

I blinked, stunned by the thought. “You think she’s trying to push them together?”

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

“It wouldn’t be the first time an older woman played matchmaker,” my sister said. “Look, I’m not saying Chris is doing anything wrong. But Mrs. Wilson might be trying to stir the pot, and you don’t want to be blindsided. Just keep an eye on things.”

Her words left me feeling more confused than ever. Was there something more going on, or was I letting my imagination run wild again?

A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

I hung up the phone, staring at the wall. I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. All I knew was that I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

The next day, I decided to stop playing games and talk to Mrs. Wilson directly. If there was anyone who could give me the answers I needed, it was her. I marched over to her house, heart pounding, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

A wistful middle-aged woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

A wistful middle-aged woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

When she opened the door, she greeted me with her usual warm smile. “Oh, dear. It’s you again! Come on in. What’s on your mind?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

I stepped inside, trying to stay calm. “Mrs. Wilson, I’m not sure what to think, but I feel like something’s going on that I need to know about. Something that you didn’t tell me about the last time we talked.”

A curious middle-aged woman is looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A curious middle-aged woman is looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

Her smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker in her eyes — something that made me uneasy. She led me into the living room and gestured for me to sit. I remained standing.

“Well, dear, like I said before, there’s nothing to worry about,” she began. “Chris has been such a blessing to me, helping out around the house. And Amy, well, she’s been staying with me to take care of things I can’t manage.”

A young woman walking in a room | Source: Pexels

A young woman walking in a room | Source: Pexels

“But why does it feel like there’s something more happening here?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Mrs. Wilson sighed, her gaze softening as if she pitied me. “You’re a smart girl. I suppose there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

An elderly woman smiling | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman smiling | Source: Pexels

My heart skipped a beat. “Hiding what?” I demanded, my voice rising.

She leaned back in her chair, her expression cool and calculated. “I’ve watched Chris for years. He’s a wonderful man, a provider, a hard worker. You’re lucky to have him, but you see… not everyone is as fortunate as you. Amy’s young, beautiful, and she deserves a man like Chris — someone who can take care of her, provide for her in the way she deserves.”

I stood there, frozen in shock. “You were trying to set him up with your granddaughter?”

A shocked middle-aged woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked middle-aged woman | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Wilson didn’t flinch. “Amy needs a good man, and Chris… well, sometimes men can be tempted, especially by someone younger and more… suitable for their needs. I thought maybe he’d see how much better his life could be with her.”

I felt the room spin around me. This seemingly sweet, grandmotherly woman had been plotting to break up my marriage, using her granddaughter as bait. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

“You’re insane,” I spat, my voice trembling with anger. “Chris loves me. He would never—”

A happy middle-aged couple | Source: Pexels

A happy middle-aged couple | Source: Pexels

Mrs. Wilson raised a brow, her voice cool. “Men don’t always make the right choices, dear. I just thought I’d give him an opportunity. It’s up to him, of course.”

I stormed out of the house, my mind racing. How could she do this? How could she think she could manipulate Chris like that?

When I got home, I told Chris everything — Mrs. Wilson’s confession and her twisted plan to push him toward Amy. He looked horrified.

A horrified middle-aged man | Source: Midjourney

A horrified middle-aged man | Source: Midjourney

“I had no idea she was doing that,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought I was just helping her. I swear, nothing’s been going on. I love you, and I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Tears filled my eyes as I realized the depth of Mrs. Wilson’s betrayal. But Chris’ sincerity broke through my fear. I believed him.

We decided to cut all ties with Mrs. Wilson. Chris stopped going over to help her, and we made sure Amy knew exactly what her grandmother had been trying to pull.

A grayscale photo of a surprised young woman | Source: Pexels

A grayscale photo of a surprised young woman | Source: Pexels

Amy, to my surprise, was just as disgusted as we were. She apologized profusely, saying she had no idea what her grandmother had been planning.

A few weeks later, I heard from a neighbor that Mrs. Wilson had fallen ill and moved into a care home. She wouldn’t be meddling in anyone’s life anymore.

Looking back, I’m grateful that I trusted my instincts and confronted the situation head-on. Mrs. Wilson’s plan backfired, and in the end, her manipulation drove her away from the life she thought she could control. Karma, it seems, has a way of working things out.

A sad, frail, and lonely elderly lady | Source: Midjourney

A sad, frail, and lonely elderly lady | Source: Midjourney

So yeah, readers, my elderly neighbor was trying to woo my husband for her granddaughter. It almost tore me apart, but in the end, I found out the truth and shut it down. Some people just can’t resist stirring trouble — but thankfully, karma has a way of catching up with them.

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.

Peter Noone was hooking up with groupies, partying with the Rolling Stones, and in AA by the age of 19

Peter Noone was one member of the popular 60’s band, Herman’s Hermits.

With his thick head of hair and boyish charm, it would be easy to compare him to a Justin Beiber or Harry Styles of today.

However, there is one distinct difference between this former teen heartthrob and those of today…

With his adorable face and equally adorable voice, Peter Noone skyrocketed to stardom in his teens as the frontman of Herman’s Hermits. The band toured both in America and Britain and became iconic.

The band nabbed their first number 1 hit in England in 1964 with “I’m Into Something Good.” 

“Herman’s Hermits sold millions of records before anyone even saw us, which just doesn’t happen now,” Noone said.

“I didn’t know what I was doing: my stage persona was a shy little boy, which is basically what I was.”

Wikipedia Commons / Jack De Nijs

Noone and the rest of his band released more than 20 hit records and even outsold the Beatles in 1965. Some of their biggest hits included I’m Into Something Good, No Milk Today and There’s A Kind of Hush (All Over the World).

The band received a million-dollar record deal by the time they were 17, and one of the highlights of Noone’s career was when Elvis Presley performed one of their hits–”I’m Henry the Eighth, I Am”–in 1965 on stage.

“He was making fun of me, but who cares?” says Noone. “It was Elvis!”

Even at this young age, Noone was living the quintessential rocker lifestyle. 

“Although without the drugs bit,” he insists. “That was never my thing.”

But when asked about all of the other typical rock ‘n’ roll habits? 

Wikipedia Commons / Jack De Nijs

“Sure. We were 16, 17, and we could easily stay up all night, go on the rampage then be up the next morning to do interviews and go to gigs. It was a brilliant time.”

At 64, Noone is on the road again as part of Britain’s Solid Silver 60s Show. His fellow Hermits veterans will not be joining him, but other musical star of the era will–Brian Poole of The Tremeloes (“Do You Love Me” and “Twist And Shout”) and Brian Hyland (“Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini”).

“You never get tired of the buzz of touring,’ says Noone, ‘and it’s good to know we can still pull an audience. People come up to me and sing all the old songs to my face, although I’m never really sure how to respond to that.”

Noone has lived in California since the 70’s and grew quickly to the healthy living style that characterizes the state.

“Not many people survived the debauchery of the sixties,” he says, “so I feel very lucky and try to look after myself. When I went to Mickie Most’s funeral nine years ago [Most was the band’s producer and a panelist on TV talent show New Faces], there weren’t many people left. It does make you stop and think.”

Flickr / Bradford Timline

“I remember going to the house of one of the Moody Blues and it was considered this real den of iniquity,” he says. “None of the girls smoked dope, so I used to hang out with them. I was a fly on the wall.

“I did like to drink — I used to go out with Richard Harris and try to drink more than him,” Noone laughed.

“I used to love the Beatles and the Stones and I’d always want to hang out with them, even though they were about seven years older.

“We’d go to the Ad Lib club in London, and John Lennon would buy my drinks because he knew I was only 16 and I wouldn’t get drunk and try to beat someone up.”

Noone, who grew up in Manchester, has admitted that one of his major motivations for drinking was to fit in with the others, as he didn’t feel that “interesting.”

It was at the age of 19 that the musician decided to attend his first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting with his father, also an avid drinker. 

“I wouldn’t have classed myself as an alcoholic, but you have to be sensitive to people’s feelings and be able to do the job on stage, so after that I decided to cut down. I needed to do it for my own sake and haven’t touched a drop for about 16 years.

“I insist that my wife still drinks if she wants to — I wouldn’t stop other people around me doing it.”

The multi-talented entertainer has been married to his wife, Mirielle, for 43 years. They met when Noone was 20, while he was still spending time with various women. 

“I think it was probably lust at first sight with Mireille,” he admits. “Then I found out how nice she was and it turned to love.

“She kept turning me down, but she was holidaying on Ibiza with her mum, so I rented the apartment next to them. Her mother liked me because I was respectful. I wore Mireille down.”

The couple married in 1968, had one daughter (Nicole), and Noone quit the band in 1971 at the age of 24. 

“Even though all of us in the band were close in the beginning, by the end, we’d been together so long and wanted to do different things.”

Flickr / Mark

His attempted solo career plateaued, and it was in the 80s that he took to a new stage, appearing in a Broadway production on “Pirates of Penzance” and as a host on the U.S. television music show “My Generation”.

Just a few years ago, he appeared as a mentor and voice coach on American Idol.

Speaking on the show, he said, “If the Beatles had entered a TV competition, they’d probably have lost. Simon Cowell seems like a very nice guy, but I think he’s a secondhand Mickie Most to be honest.”

Speaking on the current tour again, Noone explained, “‘I was probably going to be a clerk at the local NatWest. How lucky am I to still be doing this at 64? I know what I’m doing now, too. I’m not that shy little kid any more.”

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