XSTORIES4U: Tales of Love, Lies, and Betrayal - Book 2

Part 6 Walked In On My Wife's Shocking Betrayal!

I never imagined the day I'd walk into our marriage counselor's office, only to find my wife in a passionate embrace with him, their clothes half-off and their faces flushed with desire. My heart pounded in my chest as I stood frozen, the betrayal slicing through me like a knife. The room felt like it was spinning, and all I could hear was the sound of their heavy breathing and my own ragged gasps for air. She looked up, eyes wide in horror, and I saw the truth in her face before she even tried to stammer out an explanation. The counselor, someone I had trusted with the most intimate details of our lives, now stood as the embodiment of our shattered marriage. I turned and fled, my mind racing with images of their deceit. As I drove aimlessly, one thought echoed louder than the rest—the realization that our sessions had been nothing more than a cruel facade, a cover for their affair. The irony was suffocating: seeking help had been the very thing that had torn us apart.

I drove for hours, the city blurring into a haze of lights and shadows as my mind replayed the scene over and over. How long had this been going on? How many times had I sat across from them, pouring out my heart while they exchanged secret glances, indulging in their twisted game behind my back? The thought made my skin crawl.

Eventually, I pulled into a quiet park, the kind we used to visit when things were still good between us. I sat there, my hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong. I thought about confronting her, about the inevitable arguments and accusations that would follow, but part of me couldn't face it. What would be the point? The trust was broken, the damage irreversible.

Just as I was about to leave, my phone buzzed. It was a message from my wife. "We need to talk. Please come home." I stared at the screen, torn between wanting answers and never wanting to see her again. Against my better judgment, I decided to go.

When I got home, the house was dark, but I could see the faint glow of a light coming from the living room. I stepped inside, my heart pounding again, half-expecting to find her still with him. Instead, she sat alone on the couch, her face streaked with tears. The sight of her like that, broken and vulnerable, made me hesitate. But then I remembered what I'd seen earlier, and the anger surged back.

She stood up as soon as I entered. "Please, let me explain," she begged.

"Explain?" I said, my voice cold. "Explain what? That you've been cheating on me with our counselor this whole time? That every time I sat there trying to fix our marriage, you were making a fool of me?"

"It's not what you think," she whispered.

"Oh, it's not?" I snapped, sarcasm dripping from my words. "Enlighten me, then."

She wiped at her tears, struggling to find the words. "It started out innocent. I swear. I was just so lost, and he... he was there. He listened. It wasn't supposed to happen, but one day... I don't know. Things just got out of hand."

I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the rage. "How long?" I demanded.

"Six months," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Six months. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. All those weeks, all those sessions where I thought we were making progress—it had all been a lie.

"I can't believe this," I said, shaking my head. "I trusted you. I trusted him."

She stepped closer, reaching out as if to touch me. "Please, just listen. I know what I did was unforgivable, but there's more you need to know."

"I don't want to hear any more excuses," I spat, stepping back.

But then she said something that stopped me cold.

"He's not who you think he is."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

She hesitated, as if unsure whether to continue. "The counselor... he's not just some therapist. He's been using us—both of us. This whole thing... it wasn't just an affair. He's manipulating people, playing with their lives."

My mind reeled. "What do you mean?"

"I found out recently," she said, her voice shaking. "He has a history of doing this to couples—getting close to them, then driving a wedge between them, feeding off their pain. It's like some kind of sick game for him."

I stared at her, my anger momentarily replaced by confusion. "That's insane. Why would he do that?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "But I saw his files. He's done it before. He picks vulnerable couples, pushes them to the edge, and then gets involved in their personal lives—like he did with us. It's all part of some twisted need for control."

I didn't want to believe her. It sounded too far-fetched, too ridiculous. But the look in her eyes told me she was telling the truth—or at least she believed she was.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked, my voice tight with suspicion.

"Because I was scared," she admitted. "At first, I didn't realize what was happening. I thought I had feelings for him, that I was the one betraying you. But then I started noticing things—things that didn't add up. The way he knew too much about our lives, the way he encouraged certain fights between us. When I found his files, I knew he was manipulating us. But by then, I was already in too deep."

I stood there, my mind racing. Could it be true? Could the man we had trusted with our most intimate struggles really be some kind of emotional predator? It sounded impossible, but then again, so did the fact that my wife had been cheating on me with him.

"What do we do now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She looked at me, her eyes pleading. "We expose him. We can't let him keep doing this to other couples."

A sick feeling settled in my stomach. I didn't know what to think, what to believe. But one thing was clear: our marriage had been twisted into something dark and unrecognizable. And now, whether I liked it or not, I was caught in a web far more sinister than I could have ever imagined.

In that moment, I realized the ultimate betrayal wasn't just my wife's affair—it was that we had been pawns in a much larger, more dangerous game. A game we never even knew we were playing.