I Set a Trap to Catch My Husband Cheating, but What I Overheard Him Say to the Other Woman Gave Me Chills – Story of the Day

When my husband started leaving early every afternoon to pick up our kindergartner from the bus stop, I thought he was hiding an affair. So, I set a trap to catch him. But the moment I heard what he told the other woman, my whole world flipped.

Every weekday, like clockwork, my husband, Tom, left our quiet suburban house at 2:15 p.m. to meet the kindergarten bus.

I work full-time, often glued to my laptop in the office, so the Ring camera notifications were my security blanket. Ping. Right on time. Tom's there. Kid's safe.

But recently, that ping had revealed that my husband was lying to me.

But recently, that ping had revealed that my husband was lying to me.

I first noticed it a few weeks ago.

I was overseeing training on the VoIP calling platform my company uses for sales calls when the alert popped up on my phone.

It was only 1:03 p.m., way too early for Tom to be leaving for the bus. I didn't think much about it until it happened again, and again.

Every day that week, Tom left the house early.

Every day that week, Tom left the house early.

I didn't want to be the paranoid wife, but I felt like I'd been transported back to my childhood, watching Dad come and go at strange hours while Mom ate up all his excuses.

Dad left us for his mistress before I turned 12. And I learned that a healthy dose of suspicion was infinitely better than complete obliviousness.

One day, I came home and stopped dead in the hall. A faint floral scent lingered in the air… I followed it into the kitchen.

I felt like I'd been transported back to my childhood, watching Dad come and go at strange hours while Mom ate up all his excuses.

Tom was rinsing rice at the sink. I hugged him from behind and got a lungful of gardenia-scented perfume.

I wanted to go full Jerry Springer on him right then and there, but I didn't. I stepped back, told myself to stay calm, and tackled the situation like an adult.

"Hey, I saw the camera alert earlier," I started, leaning against the kitchen counter while he poured a glass of water. "You left before one to pick up Josh?"

I stepped back, told myself to stay calm, and tackled the situation like an adult.

He didn’t meet my gaze.

"Yeah, I’ve been taking a walk before the bus comes. Trying to move more, you know? Be more active."

I raised an eyebrow, letting a little playful skepticism color my tone. "At one in the afternoon? You hate the heat, Tom. You complain about humidity if it’s above 70 degrees."

"It’s not that bad lately, Ruby. Come on, don't make a big deal out of a quick walk."

"Don't make a big deal out of a quick walk."

That's when I knew I had to find out what Tom was getting up to when he left the house early.

I quietly reached out to Marcy, our neighbor down the street. She lives right in front of the bus stop and is, let’s just say, invested in the neighborhood gossip.

I asked her to keep an eye out, just a vague, "Let me know if you see Tom on his walks, I’m trying to make sure he’s getting his steps in," kind of thing.

The next afternoon, I got a text from Marcy that hit me like a wrecking ball.

I got a text from Marcy that hit me like a wrecking ball.

"Hey Ruby, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but the only walk Tom is taking goes down the street and into Becca's place."

Shock and anger ran through me like a fever. Becca, the divorcée, whose little boy was in the same kindergarten class as our son, and who was rumored to have split from her husband after he caught her cheating on him.

The next day, Marcy sent photos.

"The only walk Tom is taking goes down the street and into Becca's place."

In the first one, Tom and Becca were walking out of her house to the bus stop. In the second, they were hugging while our son stood to one side, clearly waiting for him.

That night, my fingers scrolled mechanically through the school contact sheet until they stopped on Becca's name. There was her number.

I knew exactly how I was going to get the final piece of evidence I needed.

I knew exactly how I was going to get the final piece of evidence I needed.

During my morning commute the next day, I listened to the stupid prank call segment on the radio more attentively than usual. I had to be certain my terrible, brilliant idea would work.

The VoIP calling platform my company uses lets you merge calls and record them. I could join Becca and Tom on a call and hear what they said when they thought they were talking privately.

I had to set the stage first.

I could join Becca and Tom on a call and hear what they said when they thought they were talking privately.

I sent each of them a short, identical text: "Hey, it’s me. I'm going to call you — we need to talk. Someone told her."

My hands shook as I started the setup. I called Tom from my office line and immediately put him on hold. Then, I dialed Becca.

I clicked the "Merge" button. A small beep confirmed the recording had started.

I muted my microphone and listened as their conversation turned my world upside down.

Their conversation turned my world upside down.

"Did your wife say something to you?" Becca asked in a panicked whisper. "Is she calling the police? Oh God, Tom, I can't handle this."

Police? My jaw dropped. This was not the conversation I was expecting.

"Keep it together, Becca. Breathe," Tom replied. "She hasn’t said anything to me. Everything is fine."

"But what about tonight? I need you to be here with me... I don’t think I can do this alone, Tom. I'm scared."

"But what about tonight? I need you to be here with me... "

"You need to be brave, Becca. This is the final step. I can't be there — my wife will be home and I won't be able to get away, especially if someone told her — but I'll be watching. We'll catch him in the act tonight, and then whatever my wife knows about us won't matter, okay?"

Becca let out a shaky sigh. "Okay. Okay, I trust you."

I sat there, frozen. I fully expected to prove a betrayal, not... whatever that was. Catching him in the act? Police? What on earth was my husband up to with Becca?

Catching him in the act? Police? What on earth was my husband up to with Becca?

They both hung up. I immediately listened to the recording again, but it wasn't any easier to understand the second time around.

I saved the audio to a nondescript folder, then immediately reopened my Ring feed. Every motion clip looked different now — every movement could mean something I was desperately missing.

I was about to call the police, but then I stopped.

I was about to call the police, but then I stopped.

I'd give Tom one last chance to explain. Or, more darkly, one chance to incriminate himself fully. I needed to see his face when he heard those words. I needed a resolution to this terrifying mystery.

***

That evening, I cornered Tom in the kitchen minutes after I got home. He smiled at me as I approached, but the expression faded quickly once I started playing the recording.

I cornered Tom in the kitchen minutes after I got home.

Becca’s panicked whispers and Tom’s urgent, low responses filled the kitchen. The terrifying words about Becca needing him that night and catching him (whoever 'him' was) in the act were crystal clear and undeniable.

Tom went absolutely still. "I can explain, Ruby. Please, just listen."

He told me it started two weeks ago, right before the Ring camera started pinging early.

It started two weeks ago

"When I arrived at the bus stop, Becca’s ex-husband had cornered her and was shouting that she’d ruined his life. I stepped in and told him to back off. He drove off, but it didn't end there."

The next day, Becca found a threatening note on her windshield, and her car had been keyed.

"She was terrified," Tom said, his eyes finally meeting mine, and I saw a deep-seated worry there I hadn’t noticed before.

The next day, Becca found a threatening note on her windshield, and her car had been keyed.

"I started going over there early to help her. We installed a few little security cameras around her porch and garage. I didn’t want you worried, and honestly, I thought he’d give up once he saw someone watching."

But the man hadn't given up. He'd sent Becca a text saying he was coming back.

"So we decided to set up a trap," Tom finished.

He reached for his phone and turned the screen toward me.

He'd sent Becca a text saying he was coming back.

It was a live feed from a camera pointing directly at Becca’s driveway. A small red dot blinked in the corner.

"She’s got her son at her sister’s tonight," he said. "The police know about what's going on. They're waiting around the corner. I just... I didn’t want to drag you into it, Ruby. I really thought he’d back off."

I didn’t speak.

"The police know about what's going on."

Part of me still doubted — how could I not, after everything I’d convinced myself of? But the sincerity in his face was different from guilt. It was raw, unadulterated fear for someone else.

"Okay," I said. "But I want to know what's going on."

Tom nodded.

***

Just after midnight, Tom’s phone pinged with a harsh, loud alert. The camera feed had picked up motion at Becca’s house.

The camera feed had picked up motion at Becca’s house.

On the screen, a man was crouched by Becca's car. There was a glint of metal in his hand.

Tom was already on the phone. "Yes, he's there now. He's at the vehicle."

We both watched, breath held tight in our chests, as patrol lights swept across the screen and officers rushed in from two different directions.

Within minutes, the man was cuffed, and the threat was over. I finally exhaled when the feed went still again, the fear slowly giving way to a bone-deep relief.

Patrol lights swept across the screen, and officers rushed in from two different directions.

By dawn, the street outside our window looked the same, but everything in our house felt lighter now that the cloud of suspicion was finally gone.

At breakfast, our son chattered happily about his upcoming show-and-tell. The kitchen smelled comforting, like butter and toast.

"No more secrets," I said, looking at Tom. It wasn't a question.

"No more," he agreed, reaching across the table to take my hand. "Never again."

Everything in our house felt lighter now that the cloud of suspicion was finally gone.

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This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.