ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

My Daughter Called Me Telling about a Screaming Woman in My Bedroom – I Rushed Home but Was Not Ready to See This

And then, she gave me the key to his room.

A person at the hotel reception desk | Source: Pexels

A person at the hotel reception desk | Source: Pexels

I went in and filmed everything—their clothes strewn about, the champagne on ice, the unmistakable aura of a romantic getaway.

With Jenny’s encouragement, I took to the streets of Bellport. We showed the footage to anyone willing to watch it.

“What do you think of a man who promises a romantic weekend to his wife and then takes his mistress instead?” I asked the locals.

A street with cars and people | Source: Pexels

A street with cars and people | Source: Pexels

Jenny filmed all their reactions while I spoke. People were shocked, and hurt on my behalf; some were even empathetic.

And as I met more people, it turned out that people didn’t just disapprove of Tom—they shared their stories of betrayal, connecting with my own pain.

A person doing a street interview | Source: Pexels

A person doing a street interview | Source: Pexels

Jenny and I went back to our room and ordered room service while she whizzed away on her laptop, turning our footage into a short film.

Forgotten Promises: A Bellport Betrayal.

A room service tray with food | Source: Unsplash

A room service tray with food | Source: Unsplash

Then, we uploaded it online—tagging Tom on Facebook.

It went viral overnight. And as the support began to pour in, so did the outrage towards Tom.

When Tom saw the video, he called me, furious.

A laptop opened to Facebook | Source: Pexels

A laptop opened to Facebook | Source: Pexels

“Eliza!” he barked. “Take it down! This isn’t fair!”

“It’s too late, Tom,” I replied coolly. “It’s out there now, and it’s the truth.”

Tom went on, airing his grievances through the phone.

“Why doesn’t he just come and find you?” Jenny asked. “We’re in the same hotel.”

A man holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

A man holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

I didn’t understand that either. But Tom seemed perfectly fine spending time with his mistress. I knew she was there with him—probably comforting him while he was distressed by my actions.

“I don’t know,” I replied to Jenny.

I cut the call, and Jenny and I took to the streets, ready to eat our feelings away in ice cream.

A freezer with different ice cream flavors | Source: Unsplash

A freezer with different ice cream flavors | Source: Unsplash

As we were walking, out of the blue, a travel company reached out to me. They had seen our short film and offered me a job in creating “Truthful Travelogues.”

“You’ll just have to do exactly what you did for your short film,” a woman named Natasha told me. “We’ll send you a laptop so that you can edit on there, too.”

Suddenly, I was more than just another scorned wife who had to suffer in silence and wait to be acknowledged by her husband. Now, I was a storyteller, weaving narratives of authenticity in beautiful locales.

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

And on the other hand—Tom’s life began to crumble. His professional image soured as colleagues and clients questioned his integrity.

That trip he took to Bellport, meant to be hidden away like a secret, became his public undoing.

His car was even egged by some of the kids who lived on our street—something that he deserved.

A carton of eggs | Source: Pexels

A carton of eggs | Source: Pexels

Shortly after I returned home, I packed all my belongings and moved in with Jenny. She was single and my constant support—there was nobody else I wanted to reinvent myself with.

Looking back, the trip to Bellport was nothing like I had imagined it would be. Initially, I had wanted it to be a romantic escape with my husband, but then it had turned into a girls’ weekend.

Only for it to become an unraveling of my marriage.

A stack of packing boxes | Source: Unsplash

A stack of packing boxes | Source: Unsplash

Even now, I’m not completely sure that my actions were the greatest, but at the same time—I needed to do it. I needed to expose Tom for the liar that he was.

And in the end, I needed to empower myself again. I couldn’t keep living in the shadow of Tom’s job and deceit.

Now, I have to try and rebuild my life as a newly single woman ready to get what she deserves.

Two women sitting together with laptops | Source: Unsplash

Two women sitting together with laptops | Source: Unsplash

👇 To continue reading, scroll down and click Next 👇

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

Leave a Comment