Year after year, he promised that we would go, but life always seemed to get in the way—work obligations, family matters, and an endless parade of excuses.
“I’m sorry, Darling,” he would say. “It’s just that something came up at the office, and I have to attend to it.”
But then, when Tom forgot our 10th wedding anniversary, something inside me snapped.
“I have to leave town for the week,” he said while shaving. “It’s for work. We’re prospecting new clients.”
I had hoped that Tom would have told me to pack my bags and get ready to celebrate our romantic milestone—yet, it slipped his mind entirely.
Enough was enough.
I wasn’t about to be a footnote in my own love story.
So, I called my best friend, Jenny.
“We’re going away for my wedding anniversary!” I said as she answered the call.
“What?” she asked, surprised by my words, I could hear her slurping on her usual smoothie.
“Tom would hate that!”
I explained to her that Tom had to be on a business trip and that I was tired of being alone.
“Pack your bags, Jen,” I told her.
I went straight to my closet and began to pack my bags. I needed this. I needed a moment to myself. I got onto my laptop and booked a hotel. This weekend was going to be a weekend to heal, laugh, and forget the sting of neglect.
The hotel Tom had often raved about was our first stop.
As we stepped into the lobby—a place he described right down to the gilded frames on the walls—my heart raced with anticipation and a twinge of sadness.
I was happy to be here with my best friend, sure. But being with Tom would have made it so much better, with memories that would have lasted a lifetime.
“Let’s check-in and leave our bags,” Jenny said. “And then get some fish and chips from that place you’ve been talking about for the past hour.”
And then I heard it.
Tom’s laugh.
I looked up, across the room, and there he was. My husband, standing across the lobby with his arm wrapped around a woman who was decidedly not me.
The scene was like a punch to the gut. There he was, living our dream with someone else.
My first instinct was to storm across the lobby and confront them. But anger gave way to a colder, sharper strategy.
Ten years of marriage for this? This was Tom’s important business trip?
Sure.
I pulled out my phone and started filming them discreetly, capturing their intimate laughs, their shared glances—all the things that should have been mine.
“Are you okay, Eliza?” Jenny asked me, oblivious to the scene I had just witnessed.
“Look,” I said, pointing at Tom.
Jenny clasped her hands to her mouth and gasped.
Feeling emboldened, I approached the reception desk.
“I’m Mrs. Cooper,” I said. “You’ll see my husband checked in as Tom Cooper? It’s our anniversary weekend, and I wanted to surprise my husband.”
The woman behind the counter bought it. She beamed at me and told me there would be complimentary couple massages if I could prove we were married.
And then, she gave me the key to his room.
I went in and filmed everything—their clothes strewn about, the champagne on ice, the unmistakable aura of a romantic getaway.
With Jenny’s encouragement, I took to the streets of Bellport. We showed the footage to anyone willing to watch it.
“What do you think of a man who promises a romantic weekend to his wife and then takes his mistress instead?” I asked the locals.
Jenny filmed all their reactions while I spoke. People were shocked, and hurt on my behalf; some were even empathetic.
And as I met more people, it turned out that people didn’t just disapprove of Tom—they shared their stories of betrayal, connecting with my own pain.
Jenny and I went back to our room and ordered room service while she whizzed away on her laptop, turning our footage into a short film.
Forgotten Promises: A Bellport Betrayal.
Then, we uploaded it online—tagging Tom on Facebook.
It went viral overnight. And as the support began to pour in, so did the outrage towards Tom.
When Tom saw the video, he called me, furious.
“Eliza!” he barked. “Take it down! This isn’t fair!”
“It’s too late, Tom,” I replied coolly. “It’s out there now, and it’s the truth.”
Tom went on, airing his grievances through the phone.
“Why doesn’t he just come and find you?” Jenny asked. “We’re in the same hotel.”
I didn’t understand that either. But Tom seemed perfectly fine spending time with his mistress. I knew she was there with him—probably comforting him while he was distressed by my actions.
“I don’t know,” I replied to Jenny.
I cut the call, and Jenny and I took to the streets, ready to eat our feelings away in ice cream.
As we were walking, out of the blue, a travel company reached out to me. They had seen our short film and offered me a job in creating “Truthful Travelogues.”
“You’ll just have to do exactly what you did for your short film,” a woman named Natasha told me. “We’ll send you a laptop so that you can edit on there, too.”
Suddenly, I was more than just another scorned wife who had to suffer in silence and wait to be acknowledged by her husband. Now, I was a storyteller, weaving narratives of authenticity in beautiful locales.
And on the other hand—Tom’s life began to crumble. His professional image soured as colleagues and clients questioned his integrity.
That trip he took to Bellport, meant to be hidden away like a secret, became his public undoing.
His car was even egged by some of the kids who lived on our street—something that he deserved.
Shortly after I returned home, I packed all my belongings and moved in with Jenny. She was single and my constant support—there was nobody else I wanted to reinvent myself with.
Looking back, the trip to Bellport was nothing like I had imagined it would be. Initially, I had wanted it to be a romantic escape with my husband, but then it had turned into a girls’ weekend.
Only for it to become an unraveling of my marriage.
Even now, I’m not completely sure that my actions were the greatest, but at the same time—I needed to do it. I needed to expose Tom for the liar that he was.
And in the end, I needed to empower myself again. I couldn’t keep living in the shadow of Tom’s job and deceit.
Now, I have to try and rebuild my life as a newly single woman ready to get what she deserves.
What would you have done?
Dad & Daughter Recreate High School Grad Photo After 18 Years – People Look Closer And Spot A Detail They Can’t Let Go
Seeing your child graduate from college or high school is one of the most special moments in your life as a parent.
Those who have experienced it will recall the sense of pride and uncontrollable happiness that arises when your not-so-little one completes a task they have been working toward for a very long time.
Dennis Roach, a Texas father, must have felt ten times better in 2018 since he was able to retake a 2000 photo of his daughter after she graduated from high school, and the outcome made people happy all around the world.
In 2000, Dennis celebrated his high school graduation with his toddler daughter Tori, which was a blessing.
They took a picture at the time, and Dennis gave his young girl a kiss. It was the fitting way to commemorate his momentous day.
It was Tori Roach who commemorated her high school graduation in 2018.
Naturally, Dennis was present to commemorate the event, and he and the other person came up with the brilliant idea of taking a fresh photo of the two of them from eighteen years ago.
In the last tale, Tori was cradled in her father’s arms and received another peck on the cheek.
Her 2000 and 2018 photos that she shared on Twitter were adored by fans. How well it will be accepted was beyond anyone’s prediction.
Under her photo, Tori added, “18 years later.” It received nearly 150,000 likes and 57,000 reposts before becoming viral.
Many others expressed their happiness with the picture in the comments section.
“This is the cutest thing ever,” someone said.
“One of the best pictures I have seen,” said an additional person. I’m wishing you and your family all the best.
“How beautiful…,” remarked a third.
However, the most intriguing aspect of the two images was undoubtedly the element that drew a lot of attention and comments from viewers.
One thing that was particularly noticeable was how little Tori’s father Dennis appeared to have aged in the two photos.
“What is the age of your father?” inquired someone.”He appears to be ageless.”
Another joker said, “I think you froze your father until you grow up.”
Did your dad age at all, dammit?A third made a joke.
Tori was shocked by the amount of interest in her post.
After graduating from high school, she was forced to clarify that her father, who was 37 at the time, wasn’t single.
She also discussed Dennis’s pride with People.
“There were a ton of notifications when I woke up. Individuals had resumed liking, commenting, and sharing. My father was really pleased with himself. Since we live in a tiny town, nothing similar to this rarely occurs. And he exclaimed, “That’s awesome!”
“I feel that not many other people get to experience that,” she continued, “so in a way, it brought me and my dad closer.”
Leave a Reply