No matter how it happens, discovering a partner has been cheating is absolutely heart wrenching. For these unfortunate souls, they uncovered their worst fears in the weirdest, most uncomfortable ways possible. This information would be difficult enough to hear, but imagine the family doctor, an actual detective, or a friendly movie theater instigating the drama! This unlucky content has been edited for clarity.
"A doctor told me my girlfriend was cheating on me. And my girlfriend was sitting right next to him when he said it. I’d been in the same doctor's office the week prior getting my own test results. I got the all clear across the board. No cancer (always a highlight after my brush with Leukemia), and no STD's. My girlfriend of over two years was going in for her check-up this time. So I was a little surprised when she popped out of the room and very quietly wandered over to me, leaning down with a soft, 'The doctor wants to talk to you.'
Following her into the small room, I took a seat in what was possibly the world’s most uncomfortable chair.
'I’ve just told your partner that she has Chlamydia,' the doctor said with the type of poker face that would win awards.
Imagine that room. You could cut the silence with a fork. All the while, my girlfriend sat there staring at the floor while a kind eyed doctor peered over his glasses and through his poker face, waiting for me to speak.
'I understand,' I replied, not understanding at all. Everything was a blur from there. The doctor was gentle and empathetic but also aloof. He didn’t offer more than the facts: the antibiotics for her to take, the timeline of recovery, safe tips for the future. His poker face remained. We left his office together in silence not long after, my mind whirring at the possibilities. Trying to wrap my head around what this meant.
And my girlfriend? She came at me hard and fast.
She told me, “I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t cheat on you. I know where I got this. I went to a rave in the woods just before we met and slept with a guy. It was unprotected, but I was alone and felt scared, and I know he gave it to me. I’m sorry.'
I accepted her story. I got on with making the best of our relationship. I chose to forgive and forget. Fast-forward a little over 2 years. By now she was gone. I'd caught her cheating on me with a regular from the bar she worked at. Our 4+ year relationship was over. I went for a routine health check-up. The results were fine of course, just as I knew they would be. But as I sat in that same doctor’s office, speaking to that same doctor, over 2 years later, I just had to ask, 'Could a woman have Chlamydia for over two years and not know it?'
He nodded, 'It's possible. Chlamydia is typically asymptomatic in women.'
I asked, 'What if the woman was doing it unprotected for two years, is there any chance she wouldn't pass it on to him?'
'No,' he replied, his legendary poker face almost cracking. 'Almost zero chance.'
And that's how a doctor told me my significant other had cheated on me two years ago. Then, the same doctor told me again two years later."
"I worked for a while as a private investigator, and dealt with a great many divorce action and cheating cases. Sometimes I would be asked by my bosses to flirt with certain men at hotel bars (the wives were the clients), and see if they would invite me up to their rooms. Yes, these women were somewhat hysterical, and yes, this tactic could be considered somewhat unethical, but I ALWAYS ascertained that the man in question talked to ME first, and that HE led the conversation. So, no entrapment.
One night, I was on a case, sitting at the bar in a hotel in town, having a cranberry and seltzer, just casually waiting for my target. I saw the guy I was currently dating (let's call him Dan) with a scantily clad girl I did not recognize. My first thought was that must be his sister (I had yet to meet her). Then his arm moved down near her nether regions, and it seemed as though they were quite chummy.
Despite the pinpricks in my scalp and hot tears that threatened to drop from behind my eyes, I somehow managed to stop myself from jumping out of my chair and attacking Dan. I wanted to be sure, just like the women who hired me wanted to be sure. I kept my eye on them whilst slipping out of my seat, and I walked quickly over to the front desk of the hotel. I was friendly with the manager, so I casually pointed to the couple and asked whether she knew what room they were staying in. The name Dan had given the hotel was a pseudonym, and he was apparently a very frequent guest of this particular hotel. I didn't understand why he'd require hotel accommodations in a town where he resided.
Armed with the room number, I made my way to the elevator and tried to breathe deeply as I ascended to the truth. I got to the room, knocked, said 'room service' in a voice I hoped was very different from my own, and I waited for the door to open. Time moved like an ailing snail, but in reality Dan probably got to the door rather quickly. I pushed my way in, and made my way to the bed where the scantily clad girl was no longer clad at all. Then I asked, to no one in particular, 'What is this?!'
Realizing he'd been caught, Dan made one final pathetic attempt to justify his behavior. He pleaded, 'I don't care about her!'
My response was to laugh hysterically, then leave. We weren't living together, so I saw him only once more, to retrieve an irreplaceable necklace given to me by my father on my 16th birthday. I wondered briefly what was wrong with me, was I not giving him what he needed and was I somehow to blame? I then discovered he had an addiction, and he had been unfaithful on numerous occasions with numerous women.
Regarding the case I was on, I was far too upset to continue working that night, so my boss had me return a few nights later. Guess what? My client's husband was a cheater, too! I sometimes wonder about Dan, not in a sentimental way, but more like if he's gotten any better, and how messed up he truly was."
"We would be getting ready for bed, and she would be smiling at her phone. I learned early on from people around me and the internet that asking questions is a show of weakness and jealousy. You can’t be a man and ask your girlfriend what she is doing on her phone. But every now and again, right around bedtime, the phone would go bright, and she would turn it away from me. Strange, but again, those around me made sure I had no real right to ask unless I wanted to question my own manhood. Don’t be insecure and be respectful of other’s privacy.
This was in the first year of our relationship. She would feel comfortable in my arms as we would sleep each night. How could somebody wrong me who chooses to be with me each night? We broke up 4 years into our relationship. I knew it was over for sure, and I wanted to know what was going on. Why the privacy with the phone?
She told me to let it go. For months. But she would 'check in' on me every few days. So I continued to ask. One day, exhausted at my persistence, she just told me. It was a recruiter she had met that semester before summer. She was going to be in a lot of debt from college. This recruiter from a very prestigious company had offered her a solution. A guaranteed position at this firm.
The offer was contingent on her sleeping with him. She justified the constant phone conversations she had with this guy by telling me her parents would struggle to pay her college debt, and she wanted to take care of it herself. Looking back at it, I am sad I shared a bed with this person. Who I loved, who I held, who I cared for. Cheating doesn’t solely ruin your relationship. It ruins every potential relationship afterwards. No matter how strangely you discover it, your ability to trust somebody has been terrorized."
"I had graduated from college already, and my fiancée Jen was in her last year. I went to work for a firm about three hours away, and we had decided to go ahead and set up a place for us. She would drive to me every weekend for that entire year, with me spending some vacation time with her as well. It seemed to be going great.
The weekend of her graduation, I drove to the college and I would stay in Jen's apartment. Her friends in the apartment complex and across campus were throwing a party in her apartment and several others on the same hallway. About a hundred folks total in attendance. It was great to catch up with everyone and several of my college friends were graduating with her. They attended the party too.
One of my friends, Bill, came up to us and told me he had a brand-new Stingray from his parents as a graduation gift. I told Jen I would run out to see it and be back soon. So Bill and I headed for the door. Then I realized I'd been standing that whole time and really needed to pee, so I told him I would be down in a minute and darted to the bathroom in Jen's apartment, the bathroom attached to her room. After relieving myself and washing hands, I heard Jen enter the room. I was about to call out when I heard a guy's voice with her. He shut the door behind him and I could see them in the bathroom mirror. Their hands were all over each other.
She explained to him that I'd gone downstairs with Bill and could be gone for an hour or more, so they stripped and got after it. My head was about to explode. They were experienced with each other, and they talked like this would be their last round so they'd better make it good. I was frozen. Then I noticed her camera on the dresser corner, right outside the bathroom door. I carefully reached for it and snatched it when they were in another position.
I'd given this camera to her, no telling what was on it. It's a digital camera and can take movies, so I turned on the movie mode and started it. I had it on me in the mirror with them in the background banging each other. The video would speak for itself.
I set the camera on the counter facing them, with a full view of the bed, and I realized I didn't have a way out. The door was on the other side of the room. I carefully pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the tub, thinking they would want to clean up. When they finished, he came into the bathroom and ran a towel over himself and cleaned up. She came in and started the shower. I was on the other end of the tub but the water was getting all over me, and she was about to join me. What now?
I grabbed the other end of the shower curtain and stepped out when she stepped in. She was facing away from me and didn't see me. This was my only real stroke of luck for the evening. I went into her bedroom, and her engagement ring was on the bedside table. I snatched it and put it in my pocket. No way was I leaving it here. That thing cost $3000 and she just slept her way out of it.
I left a note: 'Made a movie of you and lover-boy. Hope you like it' and stuck it on the camera. I figured I needed to let lover-boy get a good enough head start, so I intended to wait until I heard the shower stop. When it did, I let myself out. In a total funk, I left her apartment and walked like a robot down the stairs and to my car. I don't recall a lot of what happened next. I drove back home in a fog and waited for her to call me. She did, two weeks later. It was the most awkward conversation. She said she didn't blame me for taking the ring. I said I don't care what you think.
I could barely get the words out, they were choked in my throat. She told me she'd met the guy at the first of the semester and it, 'Didn't mean anything.'
I told her great, and I'm looking forward to the same status when you don't mean anything to me. She hung up the phone. I never spoke to her again."
"My girlfriend lived with me for 13 years. She became physically disabled from working and had a lot of free time. She used Facebook a lot and talked to her family there. After a time, she got a smart phone and began using the Facebook app on it. I noticed she became very attached to her phone, and was busily texting often. Sometimes when I thought she had gone to bed before me, I discovered that she lay in bed awake, phone in her hands, texting away.
Finally, I asked her who it was that was compelling her to spend so much time on the phone. She said it was an old guy friend who had recently left rehab. He needed a lot of support, she felt bad for him and empathized with his situation. She was recovering addict, clean since before I met her. Not especially being the jealous type, and having faith in her love for me, I accepted her answer, though I vowed to myself to keep my eyes open. Coincidentally, she had begun to spend a lot of time in the bathroom. She has had her issues with digestion and this was not unusual, but lately it was happening frequently.
Fast-forward a few weeks to one Thursday night in 2014. I came home from work. I noticed the main bathroom light and fan were on so, as was the norm of late, she was apparently in there. Briefly I dozed, but after about 15 minutes, something tugged me awake with an unknown but ominously gnawing sense of urgency. Something was very wrong, I could just sense it and feel it somehow. Trying to bring myself awake and focused, I could hear that the fan was still whirring in the main bathroom. Why would she still be in there after all of this time?
Rising up quickly, I went to the bathroom door, tried to turn the handle which was locked, and asked her in a loud voice if she was okay. No answer, just fan whirring continuously. Becoming alarmed, I began to bang on the door with my fist, yelling for her to answer me. Nothing, not a sound but the maddening fan noise. I went into the kitchen and fetched a screwdriver from the junk drawer. Returning to the door, I began removing the doorknob so I could get in. My heart racing, I pulled the knob off from the outside. The latch still in place, I had to finger it out before I could finally push the door open.
What I saw inside was a shock to my system so great that for years afterwards, I had no fear of anything in life. I had witnessed the most terrible scene that could have ever been conceived for me personally. And having survived it, I felt there was nothing left life could do to ever frighten me again. There lay my girlfriend on the bathroom floor, on her side, without any clothing, and lifeless. Adult toy on the floor behind her, and another one still protruding from her, cell phone on the floor next to her.
Later, we would learn that she died from an aneurysm, and from the evidence on her phone, she had been having an emotional cyber affair with her Facebook chum. Needless to say, many questions for me will never be answered, and this was indeed a strange way to find out you were being cheated on."
"My spouse had never been much for showing affection. I was expecting our 4th child and had been effectively isolated from what friends I had. We had just moved to a more upscale neighborhood with neighbors that were nice but definitely not my type of people. My old friends had been watching the abuse pattern for years and had distanced themselves either in frustration or fear that his wrath would turn on them. I wasn't working at the time and there was so little contributed to household expenses that I was told, by the breadwinner himself, that I needed to apply for food stamps if I didn't, 'Want to work.'
I had been told by both my doctor and our family Rabbi that as a result of a health condition I had ignored for too many years that working to support the family, as I had done for the first 12 years of my marriage, was off the table to help me get well again. My spouse was incredibly bitter, so I was just following orders from him to keep him happy enough to not hurt me.
He began travelling. First it was for a night or 2. Then for weeks at a time he wasn't around. Pages of his passport filled up. We still didn't have money at home, but off he went on many adventures, and I am sure he spent many nights with other women in his bed.
I didn't know for sure, until his trip to Vegas. During the trip, some work-related acquaintances that I had met became concerned and reached out to me saying so. He started cancelling speaking engagements last minute. For me, he didn't answer me for days at this point. Upon his return, he brought with him several pieces of physical evidence. So it was then that the pieces began fitting together as he became more and more detached when he was home, which was rare.
Passwords to his phone and computer were changed. He spent hours laughing at his phone claiming he was playing online games with a friend. I was so hurt that he would do this to our family, especially while I was growing our child inside me. I held my belly for comfort. At least I would have my children to love me since their father didn't want to.
I had to get through the pregnancy and then it was time to end my misery. It was a miserable slow death, the death of my hope for an intact family, the death of my dreams for a loving spouse who was on my team, the death of ever feeling appreciated for all the loyalty and selflessness I had shown for 15 years.
It has been almost 3 years since the separation. He refuses to give me a divorce, civilly or religiously. He texts at all hours about nothing, as if we are somehow still together. He still tries to boss me around, using our poor children as pawns in his game.
I am so much happier and my life has more purpose and meaning. I am more connected to my friends who despite what names he has given them are good and loving people who care for me and my children better than he ever did. I can go to bed early without fear he will be there to wake me up to get him a drink. I can leave the laundry for another day and nobody will berate me about how lazy I am. I can succeed at a difficult job and not be told that I am not making enough money. I can eat chocolate and not be called fat. I am free to hug and kiss my children for an hour before bed without anyone hissing at me to fulfill their needs because 'they come first'. I can choose my own clothing, things that I like without being told my taste is trashy. I can go visit my mother without fear that he doesn't approve. I can breathe again like I did when I was young, before he came into my life and turned me into his servant.
As bad as the abuse ever got, and it was awful, it was the infidelity that pushed me out the door. To all those women who kept him company, thank you. Thank you for being the catalyst for me to save myself from a sad existence and to show my children that treating your spouse poorly is simply not ok."
"It all started with a movie ticket.
We were moving houses. We were engaged. I found it whilst unpacking the boxes in the new home. He had told me he was running errands that afternoon/early evening. He had sent photos to me of him enjoying a coffee not far from the movie theater that afternoon, so I thought nothing of it at the time, no suspicions, nothing. I knew something wasn't right as soon as I looked at it. The feeling in my gut was there. He was currently at work, so I remained calm and decided to do some investigating. I looked back through our conversations during that day. He had told me that he had to meet with a new manager from his work to discuss a new contract that afternoon/early evening. Looking back at the messages, I can see he wasn't responsive to messages from 5:30pm - 9:30pm. The movie was at 6:30pm.
I didn't cry or get mad. I just felt numb. I waited until he got home and he knew instantly that something was wrong. I showed him the ticket and said,
'I don't remember seeing this movie with you...was it good?'
The look on his face was all I needed. It was almost as if every emotion had been swept away. His face was blank. He denied any wrong doing (of course) and not long after turned very defensive. He hissed at me, 'Are you REALLY going to go there with me? Are you really going to accuse ME of that? Be VERY careful with what you are about to say!'
I stood still looking him in the eye, both of us in silence. I know him so well, and I knew what his reaction meant. I knew that he was unfaithful to his previous partner, he had many affairs, lied continuously. I should have been smarter - what makes me think I can change a man like that? Onward and upwards. It's time to love myself."
"I was just starting a relationship with this guy. Let's call him John. We've been dating for a few months before we made it official. We have keys to each other's house. Everything was going well, although about three months in, I started having this nagging feeling that he was cheating. I'm never one to snoop in on my partner's phone or computer, but my gut instinct has pulled me out of some nasty situations before. I knew this wasn't paranoia, this was my gut instinct telling me something's wrong.
One day, the nagging feeling just went full force. I was too restless to even focus at work, so I took half the day off, bought some groceries, and went to John's house to make dinner and surprise him when he came home after work. The lights were out and the door locked, as was expected because he was supposedly at work. I went straight to the kitchen and put my stuff down when I heard a noise in the bedroom.
I went slowly to investigate, trying not to make any noise. The nagging feeling just got a LOT stronger. I slowly opened the door to see John and Brittany on the bed, going at it.
So what did I do? I went back to the kitchen, took a chair, went back to the bedroom, placed the chair by the open door, sat down, and calmly watched them. It felt like an out-of-body experience. I was numb and betrayed. But the weird thing about me is when I get really hurt, I don't cry, I just kind of turn stone-cold.
They were so into it that they didn't even notice me watching them. When they finished, John made a move to go to the bathroom. He turned towards the door and that's when he saw me. He looked like an electrocuted cat and screamed like a lady. Brittany sat up in bed and saw me. She rolled to the side of the bed and tried to hide. John tried to sweet-talk me and give some lame excuse of what I just saw. I wasn't having any of it. I stood from the chair, snapped a quick photo of them in the room, found the spare key I gave him, took my groceries, and calmly left.
Both of them were working at an airbase in Japan. Brittany was married. I asked some of my friends who know Brittany and her husband and I managed to get her and her husband's email. I emailed him of what happened, attached the photo I took and Cc'd both John and Brittany. I never saw either of them again. I also didn't want to know what happened after I sent that email. I didn't care to know, I was focused on moving on and taking care of myself. John messaged me and called me, but I wasn't having any of it. There was nothing to explain. What I saw was enough explanation. I always trust my intuition. It has saved me a lot of times, I know it won't fail me in the future."
"To my surprise, I found my son's father hooking up with a woman behind the dumpster of the 7-Eleven parking lot where he worked. It’s the gas station kind of 7-Eleven’s, with surveillance cameras everywhere because it’s right smack in the middle of South Central Los Angeles. I was a 17-year-old new mom of 3 months to my beautiful son. He was at his job that lasted all of 4 months and nailed the coffin on our relationship. Of course, I know the job wasn’t to blame. It was HIM. He developed a love for speed, or Tweak, as it’s called here in LA. And he made it obvious. I was willing to get him help, and Lord knows I tried. From mental hospitals to churches, anything he suggested would help him I gladly tagged along, no questions asked. Until that fateful night.
He could’ve gotten me sick, kissing nasty women he hired off Craigslist and then picking up our basically newborn son and kissing him. It made me queasy. I thought I was gonna die. I had been with him since I was 15, he was all I really knew. And I, like most girls, had the insane notion in my head that we would’ve been together forever. We had gone through a devastating miscarriage before our actual firstborn, at 24 weeks I had lost my first son in womb. No explanation, the baby inside me just died. That was 9 days before my 16th birthday. We had been through everything together. So I thought the birth of our son would’ve united us even more than before, even though in my head things couldn’t have been better.
Apparently that wasn’t the only girl. He had a fetish for black girls, which I’m not. And the 7-Eleven parking lot and restrooms were his domain. I counted 8 different girls he got caught with by surveillance recording. He got caught pulling money out of the register to pay said women, all in plain sight of the cameras. Needless to say he was fired. I packed up his things, sent them over to his mother's. Doctors had told me at one of his mental hospital stays that he already had a psychosis, and that if he were to continue tweaking, he would sooner than later fully fry his brain and develop full-blown schizophrenia.
I had to let go. Things started getting weird. He would hallucinate, yell, accuse me of despicably awful things such as hooking up with my own father. I knew the person I once loved so much and wanted the world for was gone. And there was no coming back. It’s almost like burying someone, although in my opinion, it’s a bit sadder. See when someone really dies, there’s a service of some sort, and that closure that you know they’re really dead and they’re not coming back. You grieve and you move on. But I have a living ghost, that haunts me in the back of my mind every day. Because I know they’re out there, somewhere on this earth, not really dead but not the person that we once knew existed, so they might as well be dead. I’ve heard recently that he’s been passed the point of no return. Such a shame."
"My wife and I had been married for a year at the time this all went down. I had had suspicions before, even while we were dating, but nothing was ever verifiable. Friday rolled around and we had plans with friends/neighbors to go out for a birthday. All seemed fine. The night was fun. I had to work in the morning, so I didn’t drink much. Almost everybody else was drinking heavily including my wife. I and our downstairs neighbor, let’s call him Richie, were the only sober ones. At around midnight, our next door neighbor Dan had his fill and could barely walk. Having to get up early, I offered to take him home. Richie agreed to take my wife and Dan's brother home later. We left, got Dan to his bed and then crashed myself.
Fast-forward to Monday. I came home from work and she was getting ready to leave. 'I have a study group at 5 on campus. This class is really tough.' Sounded legit, she had been going to school for her degree and she had mentioned this class before. There was something inside me that just didn’t buy it though. I don’t know what it was, but I knew something was off and that Richie had something to do with it.
It took me all of 15 minutes to come up with a reason to call him. He had mentioned he’d take a desk off my hands, so I called him up. 'Hey the wife is out, it would be a perfect time to move that desk if you still want it.' His response made me even more suspicious. 'Yeah I still want it, but Nancy (a girl he had been dating, but broke it off recently) is here right now. Let me call you after I take her home.'
He had told me Nancy wasn't his type. Strange. I just knew 'Nancy' was my wife. How do I prove it though? It didn’t take long for the simple yet genius plan to pop in my head. I waited in my truck in the parking lot with a view of his garage. If he pulled out and I saw Nancy get in, or my wife came home, then I’m just being paranoid. I sat for about 3 hours before it happened. The garage door opened, he pulled out and drove off.
Queue Mission Impossible music.
I followed at a safe distance. He drove to his work, I drove past and pulled into the next driveway at a bank. Pulled around back, so I could see the parking lot and there it was, my wife's car. He pulled right up to it and she got out. I confronted her right then and there. He saw me coming across the parking lot and just kept going. I told her not to come home, 'We’re done.'
She confessed that it had started Friday night (why she got home so late), and this was the second time, but she had ended it. She tried to blame it on being wasted. I went home and brought that desk down from my second story apartment alone and dropped it from my balcony on to his brand-new patio set below. He never showed his face again. I am on my way out. I’m fighting for the well-being of my kids and it’s been an uphill battle, but I’m done."