I TOOK MY SON TO VISIT MY PARENTS. WHEN I CAME HOME, I FOUND A STRANGE BOTTLE IN THE FRIDGE — AND THAT’S WHEN I DISCOVERED MY HUSBAND’S DISGUSTING SECRET
I used to think I was a lucky woman.
Not the kind of lucky who won the lottery or was born into wealth, but the kind of lucky who married a man everyone admired. The kind of husband people would praise and say, “What more could you ask for?”
My husband’s name is Michael Johnson.
We have been married for five years and have a four-year-old son named Evan. We live on our own in a suburban apartment, paying about $1,200 a month in mortgage installments — affordable with our combined income.
I never had to live with my in-laws. I never had to endure the hardships of being a daughter-in-law. Michael was handsome, tall, gentle-looking, had a stable job in IT, and earned around $6,000 a month. He wasn’t controlling, didn’t drink excessively, didn’t gamble, and — as far as I believed — didn’t cheat.
There was only one thing I could never fully accept.
👉 Michael was addicted to gaming.
“It’s just a game — what’s the big deal?”
Even before we got married, Michael played games.
Many nights, after I finished cooking dinner, he would still be sitting in front of his laptop, headphones on, fully immersed. I would call his name several times, and he’d respond absentmindedly without looking away from the screen.
Back then, I didn’t think it was a big problem.
I told myself, “Men need hobbies. As long as he’s not drinking, gambling, or chasing women, gaming is fine.”
Before we had a child, eating dinner alone became something I got used to. I watched movies, read books, scrolled through my phone. Michael played games late into the night, then crawled into bed and fell asleep.
That was when I was already wrong — I just didn’t know it yet.
When we had a child, gaming became my enemy
After I gave birth to Evan, everything changed.
Our son cried constantly at night. I rocked him until my arms went numb. Some nights, I cried quietly while holding my baby, desperately hoping my husband would wake up and help.
But Michael?
He had his headphones on, laughing and chatting with his teammates in the game.
One night, Evan had a high fever. I shook Michael awake and begged him to drive us to the hospital.
He frowned and said,
“Let me finish this match first.”
I held my child in my arms and cried silently.
I cried so many times that eventually… I went numb.
I no longer had the strength to complain. I took care of everything alone — the baby, the house, the endless responsibilities. In that home, I felt less like a wife and more like a live-in nanny.
The first messages that made me jealous
Things reached a breaking point when I discovered that Michael had started chatting with several women he met through gaming.
At first, it was just in-game messages.
Then it moved to Facebook, Messenger, and even Zalo.
They talked every day. They joked. They sent heart emojis. They called each other by affectionate nicknames.
I became jealous.
When I confronted him, Michael got angry.
“Don’t you trust me? They’re just gaming friends!”
When I asked him to cut back on gaming, he snapped,
“You’re always trying to control me. I’m not even allowed to relax anymore?”
I fell silent.
The trip to my parents’ house that changed everything
Three months ago, I took Evan to visit my parents for three days.
They live about two hours away from the city. I thought it would be good for us to rest — and maybe Michael would enjoy having some peace and quiet.
The day we came back, I opened the refrigerator to get milk for my son.
And I froze.
There was a half-empty bottle of soda sitting inside.
What made my blood run cold wasn’t the bottle itself — it was the bright red lipstick mark on the rim.
I stood there, staring into the fridge.
My hands started shaking.
Only one thought echoed in my head:
“While I was gone… who was here?”
The truth slowly revealed itself
That night, after Michael fell asleep, I secretly checked his phone.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst.
The messages were there.
On the exact day I took Evan to my parents’ house, Michael had texted:
“Come over to my place and play games.”
Not to one person.
👉 To three.
And all three of them were women he had met through gaming.
They had stayed at our apartment the entire evening.
I sat on the bed, covering my mouth to keep from crying out loud.
“We only played games” — would anyone believe that?
When I confronted him, Michael insisted,
“I only invited them over to play games. Nothing else happened.”
I asked him,
“Do you really expect me to believe that grown men and women staying alone in an apartment, drinking soda, playing games… is just about gaming?”
He said nothing.
That silence destroyed me.
My decision to divorce
I was completely disappointed.
Maybe I had no concrete proof that he cheated.
But I had lost all trust in him.
I filed for divorce.
When I handed him the papers, Michael fell to his knees and cried.
He apologized. He begged. He swore he would quit gaming.
But it was too late.
I took my son and went back to my parents’ house.
Michael came every day. He begged me. He begged my parents.
But inside me, something had shattered — and it could never be repaired.
