After twelve years of marriage and raising two children, I never imagined my husband, Ben, would decide that I wasn’t “good enough” to attend his high school reunion. Instead of bringing me, he secretly hired a model to impersonate his wife — a move that would soon become his biggest regret.
Ben and I met when I was 21, and by 23, we were married. Back then, we believed love could overcome anything. I taught preschool while he worked at a small tech startup. We shared a tiny apartment, mismatched furniture, and countless nights of laughter over takeout noodles. We didn’t have much, but we had each other — and that was enough.
Over time, success changed him. By his mid-30s, Ben had climbed the corporate ladder, swapping modest dinners for fine dining and our old car for something shiny and imported. But with every promotion came distance — in his tone, his gaze, and his heart.
After our second child, my focus shifted to motherhood and freelance design work. I carried the exhaustion of sleepless nights, while Ben carried a new arrogance. He claimed money was tight — telling me, “We’re tight this month, babe,” when I asked for something as simple as a haircut — yet somehow managed to splurge on gadgets and golf outings.
One September evening, he came home glowing. “My 20th high school reunion is next month!” he said, brimming with excitement. But when I asked about going, he brushed me off. “You’d probably be bored anyway. It’s not really your crowd.” The dismissal stung more than I wanted to admit.
Then came the truth — discovered through an email titled “Confirmation – Event Date Package.” My hands shook as I read the invoice: $600 for a one-night companion, complete with “light spouse affection.” Attached was a photo of a blonde woman named Chloe. The message from Ben read, “My wife isn’t really in her best shape right now. Don’t want to deal with the awkwardness.”
That night, when he came home, I confronted him. He tried to justify it as a harmless decision — just “optics,” he claimed. I told him to get out. But as he walked away, I already knew I wasn’t done. I was going to make sure his little performance became one no one would forget.