My Husband Started Bringing Home Flowers Every Friday – One Day I Found a Note in the Bouquet and Followed Him After Work

January 11, 2026 by Nadia

“For my girl,” he said, kissing my forehead.

I laughed and accused him of crashing the car. He grinned, loosened his tie, and said, “Can’t I bring my wife flowers? You deserve them, Ada.”

The kids groaned dramatically in the background, and for a moment, it felt like a movie scene from the early years—simple, sweet, hopeful.

But three weeks later, things started to feel… off.

One bouquet had stems streaked with soil, like someone ripped the flowers straight from a garden bed. When I asked where he’d bought them, he told me “that little shop near work”—which didn’t match the convenience store explanation he’d given the week before… or the boutique florist he mentioned the week before that.

Three flowers, three stories.

I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. People forget details, right? But once a crack appears, your mind can’t help pressing a finger into it.

Then came the note.

It slipped from the bouquet while Dan showered: a small folded piece of paper that simply read, “See you next Friday.”

My heart dropped so fast I felt dizzy. No name. No explanation. Just a message that felt shaped exactly like betrayal.

I spent that night staring at the ceiling while he slept beside me. Every memory, every milestone in our marriage replayed through the lens of suspicion. By sunrise, I was hollow.

All week, I smiled through it. I packed lunches, answered emails, washed dishes… and felt my stomach twist every time his phone lit up. By Friday morning, I couldn’t take it anymore.