I froze when I tuned into the local radio livestream. A woman requested a special love song for my husband, dedicating it to their first anniversary. A week later, I called the same station, but for a reason my husband could never have imagined.
So, it was one of those nights where everything just felt heavy. It was pouring rain. My nerves were shot, and I just wanted to be home with a cup of chamomile tea.
As I was fiddling with the radio, trying to find something to drown out my thoughts, I stumbled upon our local DJ, Max. His goofy banter was a bit of a comfort. Then, as one of my favorite songs, “One Love,” ended, Max announced a new caller…
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Alright folks, up next is Jessie! Who are you dedicating this song to, sweetheart?”
Jessie giggled. “Hi Max! This one goes out to the most amazing man I’ve ever met, my Ori-bear. We’ve been together a whole year now, and I can’t believe how lucky I am!”
I couldn’t help but smile. I was in love too. But then she said:
“He might get embarrassed, but everyone calls him Mr. Lamber. This song goes out to you, Oric. ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ is exactly how you make me feel!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
My heart stopped. Oric? That’s my husband’s name, and it’s pretty unique. The odds of another Oric alias Mr. Lamber seemed impossible. My stomach turned.
I pulled over, my hands shaking. “Oh my God… is he… is he having an affair?” I whispered, hoping the universe had played some kind of twisted joke on me.
But deep down, I knew. The song, the name, it all clicked into place. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sat there, the DJ’s voice and the song’s cheesy lyrics stabbing at my heart.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay
Memories flooded back: Oric’s late nights at the office, the missed dinners, the faint scent of unfamiliar perfume. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was just sit there, numb.
Then my phone buzzed. It was Oric: “Sorry, hon! I’ll be late tonight. Have some important work! XOXO.”
Important work. Yeah, right. I knew exactly what “important work” Oric would be attending to tonight.
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He wasn’t going to get away with this. If this little radio charade was indeed proof of his infidelity, I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The rest of the night was a blur.
I tried to eat, but my stomach wouldn’t let me. I just sat there on the bed, staring at my phone, waiting for a sign that this was all some huge misunderstanding.
At 3:45 AM, I heard his car. I pretended to sleep as he quietly came into the room. I wanted to confront him, to scream, but I held back. I needed to be sure.
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Morning arrived, and so did my suspicion. I called in sick, a flimsy excuse of a headache escaping my lips.
“Ah, darling, I want a break! Thought we could take a long drive,” I turned to Oric. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape. My eyes were drilling into his, looking for hints. Any guesses about what he said?
“Actually, Suzanna,” Oric stammered, “I have a crucial client meeting this morning. Big deal, you know!” He offered a sheepish apology, suggesting a shopping spree with friends as an alternative.
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As he rummaged for his keys, I swooped in, casually picking up his phone from the coffee table.
A flush crept up his neck as he lunged for it. I held it out of reach, amusement flickering in my eyes as I swiped the screen. “Changed the password, Oric?” I turned to him.
“It’s just work stuff, honey,” he offered, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “You wouldn’t be interested, trust me. Boring stuff, you know!”
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“Isn’t that what we promised?” I countered, my gaze unwavering. “No secrets, remember?”
A weak laugh escaped his lips. “Businessmen have to keep certain things confidential, sweetheart. You wouldn’t understand.”
I met his gaze, the smile fading from my face. “Oh, is that it, Oric? Businessmen? Or something else entirely?”
He avoided my eyes. Well, how could he muster the courage to face me?
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“I, uh, I’ll give you the password later,” he then mumbled, snatching his phone back.
Later? The word sent a cold dread spiraling down my spine. Later meant enough time to disappear… to erase any incriminating evidence.
Offering a smirk, I then started sorting laundry. That’s when I noticed something strange: a long, brunette hair clinging to Oric’s collar. I was blonde. A brunette hair on my husband’s shirt screamed a story I wasn’t quite prepared to hear.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oric!” I called, holding the offending strand aloft.
“What’s that, honey?” He came running.
“This,” I said, thrusting the hair under his nose. “Found it on your shirt. Care to explain?”
He took one glance, then shrugged dismissively. “Probably someone brushed against me on the bus last night.”
“The bus? Weren’t you taking the car?” I held his gaze.
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His eyes darted to the pristine black SUV parked outside. “Uh, yeah, but it broke down halfway. Took the bus to a mechanic, then he towed it.”
A lie tangled with another.
“Hold on, Oric,” I cut him off. “We both know that’s a lie. Spill it. Which mechanic did you actually take the car to?”
He avoided my gaze. Before I could unleash the full force of my anger, he mumbled something about being late. A hurried peck on the cheek, and he was out the door, briefcase clutched tightly.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The day stretched on, suspicion gnawing at my insides. No calls, no texts, just the burning ache of betrayal and a hollow feeling in my gut. Finally, at 6 p.m., a text arrived:
“Dinner with clients. Don’t wait up. XOXO .“
The once-endearing emojis now felt like a stinging slap.
The next morning, the bed was empty, a chilling absence where Oric’s warmth should have been. In its place, two missed calls and a voice message on my phone:
“Hey babe, just a quick heads-up. Short business trip with a client. Back in five days. Love you, miss you. Mwah!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Five days. Five days to stew in this agonizing uncertainty. But one thing was clear: this trip wasn’t about business. It was a desperate attempt to escape the truth, a truth I was determined to unearth.
“Five days,” I muttered, quickly ringing Oric. “We’ll see about that.”
All my calls went unanswered. I grabbed the car keys and the next thing I knew, I was outside Oric’s office building.
The receptionist, a woman with a nametag that read “Sarah,” offered a tight smile. “Can I help you?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Hi Sarah, I’m Suzanna. Is my husband, Oric, in the office today? He mentioned a last-minute business trip, and I was hoping to get some details.” Her smile faltered and said:
“Uh, Mrs. Lamber, actually, Mr. Lamber hasn’t been in all week.”
My stomach lurched. A concerned frown creased Sarah’s brow. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” I lied through gritted teeth, rushing out of the lobby and to my car.
Where was he? Was he with her? My head pounded with a million questions, each one sharper than the last.
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Five days crawled by. Every unanswered text, every silent phone call, chipped away at the last vestiges of hope.
Then, one evening, the front door creaked open. Oric stood there, exhaustion etched on his face. He wore a casual outfit I’d never seen before.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbled, offering a tired smile. “Sorry about that. Last-minute deal. Had to stay with a client to finalize everything.” I crossed my arms, not believing a word.
“That’s quite a story, Oric. Especially since I visited your office and found out a little truth. Where were you exactly? Spill it.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear in his eyes. “You… you went to the office?”
“Just a little fact-finding mission, honey!” I said. “You wouldn’t believe the fun facts I learned.”
He started to stammer. “What are you talking about, babe? Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course, I do!” I echoed. “Oh, Oric, you have no idea what kind of surprise I have planned for you.” His eyes darted between me and the door. “Surprise?”
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“Oh yes,” I purred, pushing him playfully towards the bedroom. “Get ready, honey. You’re going to love it.”
He followed me, brow furrowed in confusion. But for the first time in days, a sliver of hope bloomed in my chest. The truth would come out, and tonight, the tables were finally about to turn.
“Just you wait,” I playfully whispered. “This surprise is going to be epic. You’re gonna love it, babe!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Minutes later, Oric emerged from the bedroom in a crisp blue suit.
He leaned in for a kiss, but I held him at bay. “Patience, honey,” I murmured. “The best things are worth waiting for.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion, but he followed me out to the car without further comment. As I pulled out of the driveway, a mischievous glint gleamed in my eyes.
“Let’s make a quick stop,” I announced, taking a detour towards his parents’ house.
Oric’s jaw dropped when he saw them waiting on the porch, smiles plastered on their faces.
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“Babe, what’s going on?” he exclaimed.
“Surprise!” his parents chorused, bustling towards the car.
My MIL squeezed into the back seat, beaming at me. “Suzanna, dear, this is wonderful! It’s been ages since we’ve all had dinner together. With Oric always so busy with work…”
I glanced at him, a pointed look in my eyes. “Yeah, right!” I said, my voice dripping with irony. “Mr. Lamber here is swamped these days.”
Oric let out a sheepish laugh, clearly bewildered by this sudden turn of events.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
As I drove to the restaurant, a glance at the dashboard clock confirmed it was showtime. I tuned the radio to the familiar station, DJ Max’s cheerful voice filling the car.
“Alright folks, welcome back! Up next is Emma, and she’s dedicating a song to the love of her life. And here we go! Enjoy the track, folks!” he chirped.
As the last notes of the love song faded away, the DJ prompted the next song’s dedication. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number for the radio station.
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As soon as a cheery voice answered, I blurted out, “Hi, this is Suzanna. I’d like to dedicate a song with a special message to my husband, Oric.”
“Whoa there, Suzanna,” the DJ boomed. “Sounds like there’s a story behind this special song dedication! Mind sharing it with our listeners?”
A flush crept up Oric’s neck.
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Taking another deep breath, I plunged into the story. I spoke of the betrayal, the shattered trust, the way I’d stumbled upon the truth, a truth that had left me reeling.
As I spoke, I stole a glance at Oric. The color had drained from his face, replaced by a sickly pallor. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, his gaze desperately pleading with me to stop but I continued:
“And there’s more. It seems Oric’s little secret wasn’t so secret after all. Thanks to his… ‘special friend’ who called in last week to dedicate a love song, his infidelity is out in the open. And let me tell you, Oric’s parents deserve to know exactly what kind of son they’ve raised!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The DJ fell silent for a moment. Then, a gentle sympathy seeped into his voice. “Suzanna, that’s a story that deserves to be heard. We can only imagine the pain you’re going through right now. Thanks for calling and here’s a song that might echo a little bit of what you’re feeling.”
As a heartbreaking ballad filled the airwaves, I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. I got out of the car and left Oric and his bewildered parents scrambling to keep up.
I settled at a familiar table by the window. This was the same table where we’d shared our first date, filled with hopes and dreams that now lay shattered on the floor.
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Without a word, I slipped off my wedding ring. Slamming it on the table, I met Oric’s pleading gaze. “Consider this my treat,” I finally declared, “for our upcoming divorce.”
The clatter of the ring on the table echoed in the sudden silence. Oric’s parents, mouths agape, stared between me and their son, their faces etched with dawning horror.
“Suzanna, honey, what’s going on?” Oric’s mother stammered. “What did Oric do?”
“Ask your beloved son who’s playing innocent,” I countered. “The radio said it all.”
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Oric, desperation etched on his face, reached for me. “Suzanna, please,” he pleaded. “Let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like.”
But the words rang hollow. The blind trust I’d placed in him, the years of love and devotion, all felt like a cruel joke as I said:
“There’s nothing left to explain. This marriage is over.”
His father, a stern-looking man with a salt-and-pepper beard, finally found his voice. “Oric,” he boomed, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Is this true? What Suzanna says? Were you having an extramarital affair?”
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Oric mumbled something incoherent, his gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal.
“Don’t lie to your father,” his mother snapped. “We deserve the truth.”
Shame finally flickered in Oric’s eyes. He hung his head, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. “There is someone else,” he finally confessed. “But it meant nothing. It was a mistake.”
“A mistake that destroyed our trust, our future,” I choked out. “You lied to me, Oric. For how long? How would you feel if I did this to you?”
He remained silent. But his damn silence wasn’t gonna fix things.
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“I can’t stay here,” I declared. “I need some air.”
With a final, withering glance at Oric, I pushed myself away from the table and walked out of the restaurant, the clatter of the wedding ring against the table echoing in my wake.
It broke my heart to do this, but tell me, was what he did right? Did I deserve to live a life of lies with a man who not only cheated on me but also wished to keep me in the dark all my life?
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Here’s another story about how a woman unraveled her husband’s secret when their daughter chirped about her new teacher, “Daddy has a picture of her!”
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.
I Accidentally Discovered My Mom Was Secretly Working as a Taxi Driver – Her Reason Left Me in Tears
I always thought I knew everything about my mom. At 65, she was the rock of our family, but all that changed the night I unknowingly hopped into the back seat of a taxi she was driving.
It was one of those moments that makes you question everything.
Seeing her behind the wheel, wearing a driver’s cap like she’d been doing it for years, threw me for a loop. I had no idea what was coming next, but I knew one thing for sure.
I. Needed. Answers.
A man sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
Life was going well for me.
At 35, I had a stable job, good friends, and a comfortable apartment in the city. My mom, Ellen, lived nearby, and we talked regularly. Everything in my world felt predictable until that night.
It was a Tuesday, and my coworker Jake and I had just wrapped up dinner at a local diner. We’d both had a long day at work and were joking around as we waited outside for the taxi he’d called.
A man standing outdoors at night | Source: Midjourney
“Man, I can’t wait to crash on my couch,” Jake said, rubbing his neck. “Today was brutal.”
“No kidding,” I replied.
My car had been acting up for weeks, so I was grateful Jake had ordered the ride. The cold night air nipped at my face, and I was more focused on warming my hands in my pockets than paying attention to the taxi that pulled up to the curb.
A taxi sign | Source: Pexels
Jake opened the back door, and we slid in, still chuckling about our boss’s terrible attempt at a motivational speech that afternoon. The car smelled faintly of lavender, and I noticed a knitted cushion on the driver’s seat.
For some reason, it felt oddly familiar, but I didn’t think much about it.
Feeling tired, I leaned back and glanced at the rearview mirror. That’s when my eyes met the driver’s eyes, and I immediately recognized them.
The eyes staring back at me weren’t a stranger’s. They were my mom’s.
A woman adjusting the rear-view mirror | Source: Pexels
“Mom?” I blurted out, my voice louder than I intended.
Jake snapped his head toward me. “Wait… what? That’s your mom?”
I nodded, but my mind was a whirlwind of questions.
My mom? Driving a taxi? Since when?
Mom’s eyes darted between the road and the rearview mirror. After a few awkward seconds, she let out a nervous laugh.
“Well,” she began. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
A woman driving a taxi | Source: Midjourney
The cat’s out of the bag? I thought.
“What the heck is going on, Mom? Why are you driving a taxi?” I blurted out.
Jake, ever the observant one, gave me a nudge.
“Hey, man,” he said. “If you need some privacy, I can hop out and catch another ride.”
I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s fine.”
Turning back to my mom, I asked again, more softly this time, “Mom… what’s going on?”
A man sitting in a taxi | Source: Midjourney
She sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “It’s not what you think, Samuel. I wasn’t planning on you finding out like this.”
“Well, here we are,” I said, my voice rising again. “How long has this been going on? And why?”
Jake shifted uncomfortably next to me.
“Uh… I’ll just get out here,” he said, already opening the door. “Catch you later, Sam.”
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered. I was so distracted that I barely registered his departure.
A man looking at his friend | Source: Midjourney
When he was gone, I moved to the front passenger seat, staring at my mom in disbelief.
“Mom, seriously. You’ve never even owned a car, and now you’re driving a taxi? Start explaining.”
She glanced at me, her face tired but resolute. “Alright. You deserve to know. But Samuel… please don’t get mad.”
I took a deep breath, steadying my thoughts. “I’m not mad. I’m… confused. And worried. You’ve never even driven before, Mom! When did this start? And why?”
Mom started driving again, keeping her eyes on the road.
A person driving a car | Source: Pexels
“I’ve been learning to drive for a few months now,” she said.
“A few months?” I repeated. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” she said.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Well, mission failed. I’m worried, Mom. Worrying is basically my full-time job now.”
She glanced at me. “Samuel, listen to me. It’s about Lily.”
I froze, my heart sinking. “Lily? What about her?”
A man in a taxi at night | Source: Midjourney
Lily is my niece, my sister Anna’s 10-year-old daughter. The brightest spark of joy in our family. Smart, curious, always asking a million questions about the world. But she’d been dealt a cruel hand in life.
A year ago, she was diagnosed with a rare terminal illness, and ever since, it has been like a dark cloud hanging over all of us.
“Mom… what about Lily?” I asked again.
“She told me something a few months ago,” Mom said, her voice thick with emotion. “She said she wanted to see the world before it was too late.”
A little girl | Source: Pexels
“What do you mean… see the world?”
“She wants to see cities, oceans, mountains. She wants to feel the sand under her feet and see the stars from the top of a mountain.” Mom’s voice broke slightly, and she took a shaky breath. “But Anna’s drowning in bills, and you… you’ve got your own life to manage. I couldn’t ask either of you for more.”
“So, you decided to drive a taxi?” I asked, the incredulity slipping back into my voice. “Mom, this isn’t safe. You’ve never done anything like this before!”
A worried man looking at his mother | Source: Midjourney
She shook her head. “I know. But what other choice did I have? Lily doesn’t have much time left. I had to do something.”
I leaned back in my seat, rubbing my hands over my face.
“Mom, you’re 65. Why not just tell me? We could’ve figured something out together.”
She shook her head. “You’ve worked so hard to get where you are. I didn’t want you to give up your savings or worry about this. This was something I needed to do.”
A woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney
I sighed.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. “You’re going to save up enough money and… what? Take Lily on a road trip?”
“Exactly,” Mom nodded. “A road trip. Just me, Anna, and Lily. We’d see the ocean, the Grand Canyon, the mountains. Wherever she wants to go.”
I shook my head, still trying to process everything. “And you were going to do all of this… alone?”
“I was going to try,” she said quietly. “For Lily.”
An older woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
I sat in silence for a moment, the weight of her words settling in. My mom, who had never driven a day in her life, was learning to drive at 65.
She was ready to do everything to make her granddaughter’s dream come true.
The next morning, I called Anna.
“Hey, we need to talk,” I told her.
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.
“It’s about Lily… and Mom.”
I explained everything, from the taxi driving to the road trip plan. There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Anna finally spoke, her voice trembling.
“She did all of this for Lily?”
A woman talking to her brother on the phone | Source: Pexels
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “But we’re not letting her do it alone.”
By the end of that week, we had a plan in place.
We rented a small RV. It wasn’t fancy, but it had everything we needed for a road trip.
Mom would drive, but I’d be there to help navigate. Anna arranged her work schedule, and we told Lily we had a surprise for her.
When we sat Lily down to tell her, her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“A trip?” she asked. “Like, a real trip?”
A little girl smiling | Source: Pexels
“Yes, sweetheart,” Mom said, pulling her into a hug. “We’re going to see the ocean, the mountains, and everything you’ve ever wanted to see!”
“I get to see the ocean?” Lily asked with a smile. “Oh, wow!”
“Yes,” I said, smiling at her. “We’re going to see it all.”
The trip was everything we’d hoped for.
We watched Lily’s eyes widen in awe as she gazed out at the Grand Canyon, her laughter echoing across the vast landscape.
A shot of the Grand Canyon | Source: Pexels
We stood on a beach in California, her little feet sinking into the sand as the waves lapped at her ankles. She chased seagulls, built sandcastles, and marveled at the endless stretch of water before her.
One night, we found ourselves camping in the mountains, the sky above us filled with stars. Lily lay between Mom and me, her eyes scanning the constellations.
“Grandma,” she whispered, “I think this is my favorite night.”
Mom smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Lily’s face. “Mine too, my love.”
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
On our final night, we sat around a campfire. The flames crackled softly, and the scent of toasted marshmallows filled the air.
Lily hugged Mom tightly, her small arms wrapped around her neck.
“Thank you, Grandma,” she whispered. “This is the best Christmas ever.”
Mom’s eyes glistened with tears as she held her. “Anything for you, my love.”
When we returned home, things felt different. Lily’s condition began to worsen, and we all knew what was coming.
A hospital room | Source: Pexels
But she carried those precious memories of the ocean, the stars, and the best night of her life, and it made all the difference.
The day we said goodbye to her was the hardest of my life. But as heartbreaking as it was, I knew one thing for certain. My mom was a hero.
Sometimes, heroes don’t wear capes. They don’t need to. They just need a little courage, a lot of love, and, in my mom’s case, a taxi driver’s license.
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Claire thought her whirlwind romance was the start of her happily ever after—until an overheard conversation between her mother and her husband, James. Betrayed by the two people she trusted most, Claire embarks on a journey to uncover their motives and reclaim her life.
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.
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