My Husband’s Car Had a Strange Note That Made Me Seek Legal Counsel
I Had to Call My Lawyer After Finding a Stranger’s Note on My Husband’s Car
While she’s in mommy mode, hurrying her kids off to school, Sierra notices a sticky note on her husband’s car and wonders where he’s been all weekend. Secrets begin to come to light as her marriage slowly falls apart and she phones the number on the note in search of answers.
It was a typical Monday morning. I was in full mommy mode, hurrying to get the kids off to school. That’s when a piece of pink paper made all the difference.
I had just put the kids in the car and was about to pack their lunchboxes and backpacks when I saw the bright pink sticky note attached to the rear of my husband’s car.
I stopped and proceeded to read it, heart beating.
I told the children to “stay in.” “I’m on my way here right now! I just want to stare at my dad’s car.
“Alright, Mom,” said Natasha from the back seat.
I’m sorry; I scratched your car last night. However, as a neighbor at 283, you shouldn’t park on the street. This is my number in case you need anything!
I felt nauseous and confused all at once. Although my husband Thomas’s number does not belong to a house in our neighborhood, it is always parked in our garage.
“What was it?” my daughter asked as I got into the driver’s seat.
Nothing, I answered her. It was only a piece of paper that adhered to Dad’s automobile.
Tom had just returned this morning from a work trip, therefore his automobile was supposed to stay at the airport for the entire weekend.
My stomach began to turn around, and my mind was racing.
I had a feeling something was about to shift.
“Have a great day, babies!” I said this when the kids got out of the car at drop-off.
“Remember, we need to make cookies for school tomorrow,” Natasha reminded me. “Mom, we need like sixty cookies.”
I dropped the kids off and drove to the grocery store since I had to acquire everything for the cookies we had to prepare.
“Ma’am, how can I help you?” A young woman asked me some questions while I was moving through the bakery aisle. She securely secured the grocery store apron around her waist.
“No, thank you,” was my thoughtless response. “I’m merely perusing.”
However, I was completely unable to focus. What game was Thomas participating in?
I filled the cart with enough ingredients for everything we would need, made my way up and down the aisle, and headed out.
I decided to just contact Thomas to see how he was doing.
I shouted hello as soon as he picked up, “Hello, honey.”
“Hi Sierra,” he said to her. “How are things going with you? I am going to walk into a meeting. I’ll chat to you later.
Then he hung up.
“What in the world is happening?” I said aloud as I picked up some gummy worms for my child Jake.
Later, I picked up the kids and cooked toasted sandwiches while Natasha and I got ready for her class.
“Mom, is everything okay?” Natasha asked as she mixed the chocolate chips. “You’re not offering Jake homework assistance.”
“Everything is fine,” I replied, and turned back to my children.
But my mind wouldn’t stop running, and I couldn’t stop it. Conspiracies that I could not stop rushing through my head.
I contacted the number on the note after I had put the kids to bed that evening. The phone rang once more before a cheerful voice answered.
“Hello, is this the 283 house?” I asked, nervous.
Yes, the woman replied. “To whom am I speaking?”
Sierra I said. I apologize, but I found your message in my husband’s car this morning. Could you provide me further details about the incident?
A brief silence ensued.
Yes, you are correct—my name is Jane. I apologize sincerely for it. I scratched his car by accident last night when I was parked. Here’s my address: 283 Elm Street. Are you a recent arrival in the area?
My heart was pounding.
“No, no,” I answered. Thomas most likely only wanted to visit a friend. Don’t worry about the scratch; I saw the car. Everything is good.
“Oh, are you sure?” she asked. “I have no doubt that the insurance will pay for it.”
“I’m sure,” I replied, turning to look out the window. “However, could you please pinpoint his exact parking spot?”
There was silence for a minute.
When Jane spoke, her voice was quieter.
He had parked just in front of my residence. Across the street from the little park is a woman’s home. I’m sorry,” she said.
“Thank you, Jane,” I said.
I hung up, my head spinning. Thomas had played me like a fool. He was not on a business trip. Not that he had abandoned the car at the airport, either.
Instead, he was at the home of a woman.
I wasn’t prepared to confront my partner just yet. I needed proof first. I pushed myself to sleep, throwing myself into the bed beside him.
The next morning, I gave the kids cereal for breakfast while I considered my options.
I dropped them off to the school by driving to Elm Street. It would take me around twenty minutes to get there, according to the GPS. I looked for the park and the house next door.
Before I could take any further action, I banged on the door. A moment later, the door was opened by a thirtysomething woman.
“Hey, how may I help you?” she exclaimed.
I said, introducing myself as Sierra. “I think my hubby, Thomas, spent the weekend with you?”
Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her palm.
“Oh my God. I had no idea he was married. Kindly proceed inside. Mary is my name.
My heart hurt and my wedding band seemed like it was getting tighter around my finger.
Did he not mention us? His family? I asked.
Mary shook her head.
But he told me he was unmarried. After meeting at a local market, we have been dating for a few months. However, he conceded that lately, work has been somewhat hectic. Our conversations haven’t happened very often as a result.
Mary, help me pls. I have to provide my divorce lawyer evidence of his adultery. I cannot stay married to this man, especially if we have kids. Would you kindly help me?
Mary looked at me with determination.
She answered, of course. “We must apprehend him right away.”
Later that evening, Mary planned to send Thomas a text inviting him over. She told him that she really wanted to have dinner at home with him.
“I’ll tell him that I cooked,” she remarked as I was leaving her residence. “He usually comes here for that.”
After dropping the kids off with my mother, I headed to Mary’s house with the goal of catching Thomas in the act. As soon as he arrived, Mary kissed him on the door.
I felt sick when I took the shot. That’s when I came out of hiding.
“Thomas,” I persisted. “What on earth is this?”
His expression turned pale.
“Sierra, why are you in this place?”
Mary crossed her arms and gave him a look.
She said, “Thomas, you lied to both of us.” “How did you manage to? You’re a parent, too?
He stammered, trying to think of the ideal words, but none occurred to him.
Finally, he said, “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Save it,” I urged, holding my camera. “I have all the proof I need. I’m ready to file for divorce.
I begged Sierra to follow me to the car.
Eager to get home and meet my kids, I brushed him off and went inside.
We became strange friends over the next two weeks, until our shared betrayal brought Mary and me together. The thing that shocked me the most was how quickly my kids were devoted to her.
The day the documents were ultimately signed gave me the biggest sense of relief and empowerment.
Yes, my heart and my house were both devastated. But as I was attempting to heal, my kids stepped in, ready to fill my life with the happiness that only kids can.
Thomas, what about him? He moved back in with his parents. He made no attempt to make things better.
