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My Husband and His Mistress Accidentally Got Into My Taxi So I Gave the Cheater an Anniversary He’ll Never Forget — Story of the Day

Mariia Kobzieva
Jun 07, 2025
09:39 A.M.

I was working a night shift, exhausted but grateful—until I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw my husband in the back seat… with another woman. I stayed silent, already planning his downfall.

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I once believed I was lucky to have Jason.

He came into my life when I was at my peak: a good job at a large company, a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, a five-year-old son named Jamie.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

And Jason… He was handsome, charismatic, and temporarily homeless.

“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” I told my friend when he moved in.

“You barely know him!” she whispered.

“He accepted my son like his own. That’s already more than I expected.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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I truly believed he was special. I helped him get a job through my contacts. He quickly became “successful”: new suits, a new car, and a year later — a proposal.

“You can quit your job, Abby. Focus on Jamie. I’ll provide for us,” he said, convincingly.

And I believed him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

At first, life really was good. But as soon as I stopped earning, everything changed. Jamie became “a problem,” “too sensitive,” “not how a real boy should be.”

And I hardly ever saw money from Jason. It was always “on the card,” “not processed yet,” and “just hang in there.” I stayed silent.

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But eventually, I started working night shifts as a taxi driver while Jason was “away on business.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

That night I came home late, and Martha, our downstairs neighbor, was already waiting at the door in her pink robe.

“So, how was work, sweetheart?” she asked, gently stroking Jamie’s hair.

He was already asleep, hugging her dog like a pillow.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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“Better than nothing,” I sighed. “And you… How did it go?”

“Oh, with him — like with my own. Just give me a child and my day has a purpose. I never had grandkids, so Jamie is my little treasure.”

“You’re our guardian angel, Martha. I couldn’t do this without you.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“And that Jason of yours…” she grimaced. “Does he even know how hard this is for you?”

“He knows,” I lied. “He’s just… busy with work.”

But in truth, as it turned out — he was busy with something else entirely. Something that would make me question every single choice I’d ever made.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

It was supposed to be a regular shift. A typical call from a restaurant downtown. A man in a gray coat and a woman with glossy red lipstick got in.

I glanced at the mirror — and my chest tightened. It was Jason. With his mistress.

They slid into the back seat, cozy like a couple on their honeymoon. I pulled my hood deeper over my forehead and said nothing.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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“Finally,” she murmured. “I thought you were going to come up with another ‘my son has a fever’ excuse.”

“Not tonight, Ashley. I missed you.”

They kissed. I fought the nausea rising in my throat.

“So,” she said, “my parents want to meet you.”

Jason looked at her, confused.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“They said they’d gift me a house if they see I’m with someone serious. A fiancé.”

He let out a short laugh.

“So we’re putting on a show now?”

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“They’re really conservative. We won’t tell them about your wife — I mean, you’re divorcing her soon anyway, right?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“You’re my favorite. My clever, clever girl. I love that about you.”

Her voice turned silky.

“I was thinking… two houses. One to live in, one to rent. It could be perfect.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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Jason chuckled, low and pleased.

“Exactly. As soon as my wife gets the inheritance, I’m out. No reason to leave empty-handed. Her mother’s really sick, so... it’ll happen soon.”

I gripped the wheel until my knuckles turned white.

“All right,” she said brightly. “So I’ll organize a little get-together this weekend. A backyard barbecue. Just show up, smile, say a few sweet words — and we’re in.”

“Saturday? Perfect. I’ll come up with something at home.”

I nearly choked. Saturday. That was our anniversary.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

My husband had just committed to meeting another woman’s parents — for a fake engagement — on the exact day we met 9 years ago.

And he didn’t even remember.

I drove them to a small house with a porch. Not ours. His “business trips” always ended there. Jason got out without recognizing me. Paid in cash. Never looked up.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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“Thanks, buddy,” he said, already reaching for Ashley’s waist.

I stayed behind the wheel. Watched them disappear behind the door.

And then I sat in silence until my breathing calmed. Then I quietly said to no one:

“I’m sorry, Jason. But you just lost this game.”

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