I Found My Husband’s Secret Phone in His Closet — There Was Only One Number in the Contacts

Kristen thought that she had a normal life with a happy marriage and a happy home. But one day, while she’s organizing the closet in her room, she stumbles upon her husband’s secret phone. Why does he have another phone? And why is there only one number? As she goes on a wild goose chase, she discovers a secret that will change all of their lives…

I always thought that I had a pretty good handle on my life. At 32, I was married to my husband, Alan, and a mom to Reece, our seven-year-old son. I owned a flower shop, which was just booming with business. So, all in all, I thought that everything was good.

Alan, though, worked a lot. He was always the more driven half of our relationship and put his job first.

“If I were you, I’d be so frustrated, Kristen,” my mother said when Alan missed another family dinner at her place.

“I do get frustrated, Mom,” I admitted. “But because of his hard work, Reece is able to go to private school. As annoying as it gets when he’s away all the time, his job has provided us with opportunities.”

“Yeah, I get it,” my mom said. “But at the same time, keep an eye on him. I have a strange feeling that something is going on.”

I nodded, but I didn’t take it to heart.

I mean, Alan and I had been together for ten years, married for eight, and I figured that we had a solid foundation.

That was until the day I found the phone.

I wasn’t looking for anything suspicious. It was just a regular afternoon, and I was clearing out the closet in our bedroom. Reece was with some friends, having a movie night, and Alan was away at work.

“May as well do something with yourself, Kristen,” I told myself.

Alan’s side of the closet was an absolute mess. There were clothes crammed in haphazardly, old boxes stacked up, and shoes scattered everywhere.

“Your mother would be ashamed,” I said, rolling my eyes as I removed socks from the corner of a shelf.

But it was there that I noticed a small, battered box shoved toward the back corner of the shelf too.

Naturally, curiosity got the better of me, so I pulled it out. Inside, nestled among some old papers and random junk that only my husband would keep, was a phone.

“Whoa, I haven’t seen one of these in forever,” I said.

It was ancient, probably from about 15 years ago, with a cracked screen and a worn-out casing. But it looked like it had been used recently because it was on, and there was no dust on it.

“Why would you need another phone? And why are you hiding it?” I asked the empty room.

I knew that snooping was a bad idea. But at the same time, I couldn’t understand what Alan was up to.

Scrolling through the phone, I saw that the background was plain with outdated apps, and the only active thing was the text message icon.

“Why are you texting, Alan?” I muttered under my breath.

My heart skipped a beat as I opened the contacts list, expecting to find a series of contacts that would lead to questions of affairs.

But there was just one number saved: Dylan – Auto Shop.

Immediately, my mind started racing. I didn’t know anything about a Dylan. And more than that, why would Alan have a separate phone just to contact this one person?

It made absolutely no sense to me.

A part of me wanted to confront Alan immediately, but I knew that he’d probably come up with an excuse or something. One thing about my husband was that he always seemed to have an answer for

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