I Thought My Husband Went Jogging Every Morning – One Day, I Decided to Follow Him

Have you ever had a gut feeling that something wasn’t quite right? I ignored mine for weeks. My husband, Eric, said he’d taken up jogging every morning, and I believed him. But one morning, curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to follow him. What I found turned my world upside down.

My husband Eric started his morning runs about a month ago. At first, I thought it was great — he’s always working long hours at his business, and I knew he rarely had time for himself. I was actually proud of him. After all, isn’t that what we encourage our spouses to do? To take care of themselves?

A man jogging | Source: Unsplash

A man jogging | Source: Unsplash

Eric and I have been married for 14 years. We have two boys — Max, who’s 13, and little Stuart, who just turned 8. On the surface, we were a picture-perfect family. Eric owned a small but successful business, and while we were not rolling in money, we were comfortable.

I work part-time at a local boutique, and most of my free time is spent keeping the house running and wrangling the boys.

Life was good — or so I thought. But then I started noticing some… oddities.

Grayscale close-up shot of a couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

Grayscale close-up shot of a couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

For one, Max kept asking Eric if he could join him on his morning jogs. Max has always idolized his dad, and the idea of father-son bonding over a jog seemed like a no-brainer. But Eric kept shutting him down.

Not just a simple “Maybe next time, bud,” but a firm, almost snappy “NO, MAX. I WANT TO RUN ALONE.”

“I just want to spend time with you, Dad,” Max had pleaded one morning, his eyes wide and hopeful. The desperation in his voice made my heart ache.

Eric’s jaw had tensed. “Not now, Max,” he’d said.

A man frowning | Source: Midjourney

A man frowning | Source: Midjourney

I remember Max’s confused face the first time Eric said it. “Why can’t I come with you, Dad?” he’d asked.

Eric ruffled his hair and mumbled something about needing his runs to clear his head. I didn’t think much of it back then, but looking back, I wish I’d paid closer attention.

That night, I’d watched Eric carefully. He’d been distant and distracted. When I tried to touch his arm, he flinched… something he’d never done in 14 years of marriage.

A doubtful woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A doubtful woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

“Everything okay?” I’d asked.

He’d smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Everything’s fine.” A lie so smooth, so practiced, it sent a chill down my spine.

A few days later, I started noticing “other” things. His gym clothes — normally tossed on the floor when he got home — were oddly spotless. His running shoes, which should’ve been scuffed and worn from all the “jogging,” looked almost brand new.

“Something isn’t right,” a voice inside me screamed. “Something is very, very wrong, Anna.”

A pair of shoes | Source: Pexels

A pair of shoes | Source: Pexels

My gut whispered that something wasn’t adding up. But instead of asking Eric outright, I decided to keep an eye on him.

Little did I know how much my world was about to change.

One morning, I got up early, careful not to wake the boys. I stood by the window, watching as Eric laced up his pristine running shoes and grabbed his water bottle.

A man tying his shoelace | Source: Pexels

A man tying his shoelace | Source: Pexels

“Going for a run?” I asked casually, leaning against the doorway, my voice deliberately light.

“Yep,” he said, barely glancing at me. The coldness in his tone was unmistakable.

I gave him a small smile, even though my stomach felt like it was tied in knots. “Be safe,” I whispered. He nodded and headed out the door, not looking back.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

I waited a few minutes before grabbing my car keys and following him. My hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel. “What am I doing?” The rational part of my mind screamed. “This isn’t me. I’m not the type of woman who follows her husband.”

But something deeper and primal drove me forward.

At first, everything seemed normal. He jogged down the street, his pace steady and unremarkable. I stayed far enough behind so that he wouldn’t notice me. I was guilty but I had no choice. After two blocks, he slowed down. Then, he turned down a quiet residential street.

That’s when things got STRANGE.

A man jogging on the road | Source: Pexels

A man jogging on the road | Source: Pexels

Eric stopped in front of a modest blue house — nothing fancy, but well-kept. He glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone was watching, then pulled a key out of his pocket and let himself in.

I sat in my car, FROZEN. “What the hell?” I whispered to myself, a cold fear spreading through my veins.

After a few moments, I got out and walked quietly up to the house. I felt ridiculous, like some kind of amateur detective, but I had to know what was going on. My mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.

A blue house near the road | Source: Pexels

A blue house near the road | Source: Pexels

I peeked through the window, and my stomach dropped.

There he was — my husband — wrapped around HER.

Lucy. His new secretary. The woman I’d welcomed into our home. The woman I’d trusted.

I watched in stunned silence as they kissed, laughing like two people without a care in the world. Their intimacy was casual and comfortable… like this wasn’t a new affair. This was something that had been happening for a while.

A romantic couple | Source: Unsplash

A romantic couple | Source: Unsplash

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures of them. Betrayal burned through me like acid. Memories flashed: our wedding day, the births of our sons, and the quiet moments of shared laughter.

I wanted to scream, barge in, and demand an explanation. But I forced myself to stay calm and I stormed back to my car.

“Not yet,” I told myself. “Not yet, Anna. This isn’t the time for confrontation.”

My hands were trembling, and my face felt hot with anger. I couldn’t stop replaying what I’d seen — the way he touched her, the way he looked at her… the way they both… Oh my God.

A woman shaken to her core | Source: Midjourney

A woman shaken to her core | Source: Midjourney

“Fourteen years,” I thought. “Fourteen years reduced to this moment of betrayal.”

But I wasn’t going to fall apart. If Eric wanted to betray me, I was going to make sure he REGRETTED it… BIG TIME.

My hands shook as I pulled over and walked into a small print shop, the photos burning a hole in my phone’s gallery. The man behind the counter greeted me with a polite smile, but I barely managed to nod back.

“Can you print these?” I asked as I slid my phone across the counter.

He glanced at the images briefly, his brows rising slightly, but he didn’t say a word. He just nodded and got to work.

A woman in a shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a shop | Source: Midjourney

Each click of the printer felt like a bullet of revenge. My heart pounded as the images began sliding out, vivid and damning. I stared at the glossy prints, anger coursing through me like fire.

“He thinks he can do this to me? To our family?” I thought.

By the time the man handed me the stack of photos, my grip was steady, and my resolve unshakable. “Thank you,” I said curtly, tucking the prints into my bag.

Walking out of the shop, I couldn’t help but smirk to myself. “This is going to hurt, Eric. And you deserve every second of it.”

I grabbed the photos I’d taken and headed straight to his office.

A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash

A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash

I wasn’t subtle about it. I marched in, ignoring the startled glances from his employees, and started pinning copies of the photos to every desk. Each one had a caption scrawled in bold red letters:

“THIS IS HOW YOU CAN GET A RAISE IN THIS COMPANY!”

“Look at your perfect boss,” I muttered under my breath. “Look at the man you respect. He’s in her house right now!”

Gasps filled the room as people stared at the images, their whispers growing louder with each passing second. I saw shock, disgust, and disbelief spreading across their faces. Some looked away. Some stared, transfixed. And some started whispering things.

Stunned office workers | Source: Pexels

Stunned office workers | Source: Pexels

Ten minutes later, I heard the sound of the door slamming open, and there he was — Eric, his face red with fury. “Anna, what the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” I said, crossing my arms. “Your employees deserve to know the kind of boss they’re working for. The kind of husband you are.”

His eyes darted to the photos, and for a moment, he looked panicked. The confident man from the blue house was gone. Now, he looked like a child caught in a lie.

But then he composed himself, his voice lowering dangerously. “We need to talk. Now.”

I smiled, tossing my car keys at him. “Oh, we absolutely do.”

A startled man in his office | Source: Midjourney

A startled man in his office | Source: Midjourney

We argued the entire ride home.

“You had no right —” Eric began, his voice desperate.

“No right? You had no right to destroy our family. What were you thinking, Eric? Did you even think about Max and Stuart?”

Tears threatened to spill, but I fought them back. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Wasn’t supposed to be like what?” I screamed. “A lying, cheating husband? A father who betrays his family?”

“No, Anna —”

“Then how was it supposed to be, Eric? You cheat on me, lie to our kids, and sneak around with your secretary, but hey, as long as you’re happy, right? You’re free to do anything you please… only because you’re a man, right?”

A man driving a car | Source: Unsplash

A man driving a car | Source: Unsplash

A flash of shame crossed his face. For a moment, I saw the man I married — the man who used to look at me like I was his whole world.

He didn’t respond. The silence was deafening.

When we got home, I grabbed my things and locked myself in the bedroom, ignoring his pleas to talk. Each knock on the door felt like another betrayal.

I wasn’t ready to listen… not yet. Not when my entire world had just shattered into a million pieces.

A man standing outside a room | Source: Midjourney

A man standing outside a room | Source: Midjourney

I refused to talk to him after that. And within the next few days, Eric’s business was in shambles.

When word of his rendezvous with his secretary became public, employees began resigning in large numbers. No one wanted to work for a man who promoted mistresses instead of merit. Each resignation was another nail in the coffin of his professional reputation.

I filed for divorce a week later. The paperwork felt like liberation — each signature a step towards healing.

Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels

Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels

When I told the boys, Max was quiet for a long time. The silence was heavy, laden with disappointment and confusion. Finally, he looked up, his eyes filled with a pain no 13-year-old should ever have to experience.

“I always thought Dad was a hero,” he said softly. “Guess I was wrong.”

Those words shattered something inside me. Not because of Eric, but because of the innocence my son had lost.

Hearing those words broke my heart, but I knew I’d done the right thing.

A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney

A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney

The last time I saw Eric, he looked like a shell of himself. His business was gone, his reputation was ruined, and Lucy? She’d left him for someone with a bigger bank account.

Gone was the confident man who used to stride through life. In his place was a broken, desperate stranger.

“Anna,” he pleaded on the road. “I made a mistake. Please… can we fix this?”

The audacity. The absolute audacity of that request.

A desperate man | Source: Midjourney

A desperate man | Source: Midjourney

I stared at him for a long moment, letting his words hang in the air. Every memory of our marriage — the good and the bad — flickered through my mind like an old movie reel.

Then I smiled… a cold, empty smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “You know, Eric, you were right about one thing. Jogging really does clear your head.”

And with that, I turned and walked away to my new apartment, leaving him to deal with the mess he’d made.

A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney

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.

Poor Mom Lives in Old Trailer with Son and Never Lets Anyone in until She Gets Hospitalized

Before she passes out and is taken to the hospital, an impoverished woman never lets anyone inside her run-down trailer. Her life is ultimately altered irrevocably by the subsequent events.

“Hey, young one! Keep away from him! Barbara let out a scream and hurried to where her son Timothy was playing with a child called Harry. “You have no right to come play with my son here. He doesn’t associate with weirdos and recluses!

“Mum!” Timothy started to cry. “That’s not Harry at all! I invited him to play with me and the other kids from the neighborhood because we are friends.

“Stop talking, Tim! You’re not aware of the potential risk that some people pose. You are aware that his mother is a deranged person who never allows anyone to be around her or enter her ridiculous trailer? How often have I told you not to go visit him already?

“Please, mom! It’s a nice boy, Harry. Simply said, we Harry cut Timothy off just as he was getting started.

“Don’t worry, Tim. He turned to face Barbara and said, “My mom says that mothers are always right, but Mrs. Anderson.” “My mother is a sweetheart. She is so afraid that she won’t let anyone into our trailer.

“Afraid?” Barbara gave him a sardonic chuckle. “We ought to be terrified of her! She must be planning something shady! Anyway, remember this, child: you will never again play with my son! Did you get the message?

Harry became so overcome with emotion that he was unable to talk. He ran out of the park to where he always parked his old white trailer, beneath a parched tree that marked the edge of a woodland that connected two suburbs.

Tracy, his mother, became concerned when she noticed he was sobbing all the time. “Honey, what’s the issue? What’s causing your tears? Are you in pain?

Harry sobbed, “It was one of our neighbors again, mom.” “Mom, they call you names all the time. I detest that! I detest all of them!

Tracy gave him a hug and whispered, “Oh, honey.” “Never harbor hatred for someone. People tend to say hurtful things when they’re upset. It implies neither that they despise you nor…

“No, mother! You’re not getting it! Harry shot back. They have no interest in comprehending you, myself, or anybody else. Are you even aware of the events of today? Mrs. Anderson advised me not to play with Timothy because I’m a hermit’s son and called you a recluse. Mom, please let’s get out of this town. I wish to leave this place.

Tracy was at a loss for words at that time. She was unable to inform Harry that her supervisor had sacked her that very afternoon and that her savings were running low. There was a moment before she said, “Honey.” “Maybe we should put off making a decision until the following month?”

“But why, mother? Why should we put up with their taunts? The boy became irrational. “Aww…all right, just do what you want! He moaned, “I want to spend some time alone,” and turned to leave.

Tracy started crying as soon as Harry departed. She berated herself for being an awful mother and a failure in life who had let her son down in addition to herself. She got up slowly and went to her bed, where she sobbed while holding a picture of Harry. Before long, she was fast asleep and unable to think of anything.

Harry returned to the trailer after nearly an hour had passed. “On my way back, Mom, I picked up some bread.” Would you kindly prepare the french toast for tomorrow morning? As he walked in and shut the door, he said.

Tracy was sleeping on the bed when he discovered something strange about the way she was lying there. “Mum? After asking, “Did you have dinner?” and giving her a little shake, Tracy ended up on the ground. “Mum! What took place? Let your eyes open! As the youngster realized his mother was not breathing, he began to cry.

He swiftly looked for Tracy’s phone and made a 911 call. Tracy was hauled away by the ambulance after a short while, which seemed like an eternity to the little kid. Harry sobbed while sitting outside the trailer, covering his face with his hands.

A voice suddenly cut him off. “Boy, what are you doing here by yourself? What happened to your mother?

Harry observed an older woman standing in front of him when he looked up. She smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I often see you and your mother here before I leave for work, so I know you two.” “Is everything in order?”

Harry felt a tiny bit of relief. “Mom fainted and was taken to the hospital.” I’m concerned for her.

The woman let out a gasp. “Don’t worry, she will be alright. Did they let you know which hospital they brought her to?

Yes, they provided me with a number and address. They wouldn’t let me accompany her because I’m a minor.

What if you spent the evening at my house? Tomorrow morning, we can visit her.

“However,” Harry faltered. “Why do you assist me? Our neighbors don’t think well of us. Do you not also believe that we are?

The woman started giggling. Harry, try not to let stuff like this affect you. In some manner, everyone is cruel.

“How did you know my name, wow?” Never before have we…

“Well, when I get home late from work, I see that you’re playing around here a lot.” You refuse to go back and sleep despite your mother’s persistent pleas.

“Oh!” With a smirk, Harry embarrassedly rubbed the back of his head. “I apologize; I didn’t adequately introduce myself. Harry Stevens is who I am.

“Hello Harry, nice to meet you. You may address me as Mrs. Taylor. So, are you interested in coming to supper with me tonight?

The boy said, “Sure,” and went with Mrs. Taylor to her house. The boy stayed at her residence that night after they had dinner together. Tracy had fainted from stress and tiredness, they found out when they went to see her the next day. Mrs. Taylor took over to take after Harry while she was in the hospital, as the doctors predicted she would be there for some time.

“Ma’am, you have my sincere gratitude,” Tracy remarked to Mrs. Taylor. “I’m very happy Harry is doing well. She turned to Harry and said, “Honey, would you please wait outside while I speak with Mrs. Taylor?” “I have important things to talk about.”

Yes, mother.

Tracy burst into tears as Harry left. “We appreciate your assistance, ma’am. We are truly unable to repay your kindness.

“I’ve seen you by yourself quite a bit. How come you don’t interact with your neighbors? Although they can be bothersome occasionally, they aren’t too bad.

“Mrs. Taylor, I don’t blame them for treating me badly. I kept quiet about my living situation since I felt ashamed of it. Being an orphan, I was sure I could care for my son after my spouse passed away, but things didn’t work out. We had to get out of our big mansion and drive a little car. I used to be a waitress in a restaurant to help support my son while I was a struggling writer, but I got fired yesterday for being consistently late to work. I’m just a failure, nothing more. Kindly accept Harry. I am unable to care for him. Would you please…I simply want to stop living!” She sobbed uncontrollably.

“You ought not to say that! In all time! For now, concentrate on recovering quickly! Young lady, you never know where life will lead you!

Mrs. Taylor was correct, of course, when she emphasized that anything can happen in life at any time.

Sitting at a table, Tracy autographed copies of “The Woman: Life Through the Odds,” her debut book, which was already a New York Times bestseller. There was a sizable group waiting for her to sign the copies, and she was resplendent in a suit.

This day, exactly a year ago, she had come home from the hospital. Mrs. Taylor started a GoFundMe page to gather money to help her and Harry when she saw how horrible the conditions were inside her mobile home.

That gave Tracy the willpower to start over after she had earlier wanted to give up on everything and consider herself a failure. She began working as a waitress on the weekends and as a freelance writer during the week after renting a tiny home. She would write her book all night long, and nine months later, it was eventually published. Harry was able to attend a better school thanks to her, and Mrs. Taylor—who had previously been unknown to them—became both her mother and Harry’s grandmother.

As Tracy was about to leave her book signing, she thought back on how her life had altered. She pulled out to find a black automobile waiting for her. Anderson Brown, her fiancé, got out of the car and held the door open for her.

It was at Harry’s school that Tracy had first encountered him. She fell in love with him right away; he was a widower with a daughter. He asked her to marry him shortly after, and she accepted.

After Tracy took a seat in the front seat, they drove home to their daughter and son and their new roommate, Mrs. Taylor. On her walk home, she said a little prayer to God, giving thanks for everything.

What lessons may we draw from this tale?

We must exercise patience and seek out the bright side. When things get tough, we start to lose hope, just like Tracy. However, we must never lose sight of the truth that, with enough confidence, we can conquer any challenge. With Mrs. Taylor’s help, Tracy made a fresh start and is today a well-known author.
A book shouldn’t be judged by its cover. Because she was ashamed of her living situation, Tracey never opened her door to others, but they misinterpreted her and called her all kinds of nasty names.

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