A Week After Hearing a Woman Dedicate a Love Song to My Husband on the Radio, I Found Myself on the Line with the Station
A week ago, I was stunned to hear a woman dedicate a romantic song to my husband on the radio. Fast forward, and I found myself making a call to that same station for reasons my husband could never foresee.
It was one of those dreary evenings filled with rain and weariness. All I wanted was to be home, sipping chamomile tea. Fumbling with the radio in an attempt to silence my racing thoughts, I caught the familiar voice of our local DJ, Max, just as a favorite tune of mine wrapped up.
“Coming up, we have Jessie on the line! Who’s this song for, darling?” Max inquired.
Jessie’s light laugh filled the air. “Hey Max! This song’s for the most incredible man I know, my Ori-bear. It’s been a year, and I’m so grateful!”
I was smiling, remembering my own love, but then she continued:
“He might be shy about this, but we all know him as Mr. Lamber. This one’s for you, Oric. ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ perfectly describes how you make me feel!”
My heart sank. Oric? That’s my husband’s name, and it’s quite rare. A wave of nausea hit me as the implications dawned on me.
I pulled my car over, trembling. “Is he… could he be cheating?” I murmured, praying it was all a mix-up.
Yet, the connections were too precise. The song, his name—it all made sense. Tears started as I sat parked, listening to the DJ and the trite lyrics that now felt like a personal attack.
Memories of Oric’s recent late nights and vague excuses came flooding back. His phone buzzed with a text: “Running late tonight, important work! XOXO.”
Important work indeed.
He wasn’t going to slip by this time. If the radio call was any indication of his betrayal, I was ready to confront it head-on.
The rest of the evening was a blur. I couldn’t eat; all I could do was wait, hoping for some sign of a misunderstanding.
At 3:45 AM, I heard his car. I feigned sleep as he tiptoed into the room. I wanted to explode with questions, but I restrained myself, needing certainty.
Morning came, and I feigned illness to stay home.
“I thought we’d take a drive,” I suggested to Oric, his eyes flicking nervously.
“Actually, Suzanna,” he faltered, “I’ve got a critical client meeting. How about you go shopping with some friends instead?”
As he looked for his keys, I grabbed his phone from the table.
His face flushed as he reached for it. “Changed the password, Oric?” I asked.
“Just work stuff, sweetheart,” he replied, attempting a laugh. “You know, boring business things.”
“But we agreed, no secrets,” I reminded him sternly.
He laughed weakly. “Business confidentiality, love. You wouldn’t get it.”
Our eyes met; his evasive. “I’ll tell you the password later,” he said, snatching the phone back.
Later? That word filled me with dread. Later meant time for him to cover his tracks.
As I did laundry, I found a long, brunette hair on his collar—I am blonde. This was a detail I couldn’t ignore.
“Oric!” I called out, holding up the hair.
“What’s that, love?” He approached.
“This,” I said, showing him the hair. “Found it on your shirt. Explain?”
He glanced at it, then shrugged. “Must’ve brushed against someone on the bus.”
“The bus? Didn’t you take the car?” I pressed, catching him in a lie.
He stuttered about a car breakdown and a bus ride to a mechanic—another lie.
“Hold up, Oric,” I interrupted. “That’s clearly not true. Tell me what really happened.”
He mumbled an excuse about being late and left hastily.
The day dragged on, filled with suspicion and unanswered calls. At 6 p.m., a text: “Dinner with clients, don’t wait up. XOXO ❤️.”
The once endearing message now felt like a slap.
The next morning, his side of the bed was cold, a message waiting on my phone: “Short business trip, back in five days. Love you, miss you.”
Five days of torment awaited, but I was determined to uncover the truth.
“Five days,” I muttered, driving to his office. The receptionist hesitated, “Mr. Lamber hasn’t been in all week.”
Everything was crumbling.
Five days later, he returned, worn and dressed unusually. “Last-minute deal, had to finalize everything,” he claimed.
“That’s an interesting tale, Oric, especially since I know you weren’t at the office. Where were you?”
He stammered, fear in his eyes. “You went to the office?”
“Just checking some facts,” I replied. “You’d be surprised what I found out.”
He tried to defend himself, but I cut him off. “No more lies, Oric. I know about the affair.”
His parents, unaware, were confused at the sudden revelation.
“Suzanna, what’s happening?” his mother asked.
“Ask your son,” I said. “The radio has told enough.”
Oric, desperate, tried to explain, but it was too late. The trust was broken.
“There’s nothing left to discuss. This marriage is over,” I declared, leaving him with the echo of my wedding ring hitting the table.
Oric, desperate and flustered, reached out to me, but I was resolute. “Suzanna, please,” he pleaded. “Let me explain. It wasn’t what it seemed.”
But his words felt empty. The blind trust I’d placed in him, the years of love and commitment, now seemed a cruel joke. “There’s nothing left to explain. This marriage is over.”
His father, stern and shocked, finally spoke. “Oric,” he intoned gravely, “is what Suzanna saying true? Did you betray her?”
Oric struggled for words, his eyes evasive. “Don’t lie to your father,” his mother chimed in sharply. “We deserve the truth.”
Finally, shame overtook Oric’s features. He lowered his head, his voice barely a whisper. “Yes, there’s someone else. But it was a mistake.”
“A mistake that destroyed our trust, our future,” I managed, my voice thick with emotion. “How long has this been going on? How would you feel if the roles were reversed?”
Silence filled the space between us. His silence said enough.
“I can’t stay here,” I declared, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I need some air.”
With that, I pushed back from the table and walked out of the restaurant, leaving the sound of my wedding ring clattering on the table behind me.
It was heartbreaking, but necessary. Did he really think he could lead a double life without consequences? Did I deserve a lifetime of deceit from someone who was supposed to be my partner? I walked away, not just from the table, but from a life that was built on lies.
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