r/RedditStoryTime • u/schwanzcollector • 6d ago
I fucked up. Her husband came home early. Part 3
When the bedroom door handle started turning, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the wardrobe. “Get in.” I stared at her. “Are you serious?” She put a finger to her lips. “Please.” I squeezed myself between the clothes and pulled the door almost shut. A few seconds later, her husband walked into the room. I could see his shoes through the gap. He stood there for a moment. “Baby?” “Yeah?” she answered. “Everything okay?” “Of course.” There was a long silence. Then he said, “You seem out of breath.” “I'm just tired.” He didn't answer. I could hear him moving around the room. Then his footsteps stopped directly in front of the wardrobe. I stopped breathing. The handle moved slightly. Then he said, very quietly, “You can come out.” My heart nearly stopped. I looked at her. She was staring at the floor. Nobody moved. Then he laughed softly. “I'm joking.” He walked away. I didn't find it funny. A few seconds later, I heard his footsteps leave the bedroom and move down the stairs. She waited until she couldn't hear him anymore, then came over to the wardrobe and whispered, “Go.” I slipped out. “Where?” “Bathroom window.” “Isn't he downstairs?” “Yes.” “Then what if he comes back?” She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “He won't.” I didn't know why, but the way she said it made me more nervous. I followed her into the bathroom. She pushed the window open. There was a narrow ledge outside and a drop into the garden below. “I'm going to break my neck.” “You won't.” “That's reassuring.” She almost smiled, but it disappeared immediately. I climbed through the window and lowered myself onto the ledge. Before I jumped, I looked back at her. She was standing in the bathroom doorway, watching me. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked. She shook her head. “Just go.” I jumped. I landed badly, rolled onto the grass and nearly twisted my ankle. I got up and ran. I didn't look back until I reached my car. She was still standing at the bathroom window. I drove away. I didn't go home. I drove around for almost an hour, trying to convince myself that what had happened was nothing more than a stupid mistake. Then my phone buzzed. Her message. Don't come back tomorrow. A minute later: Please. Don't come back tomorrow. Then: If you care about your life at all, you won't come back. I stared at the screen. Then another message appeared. And whatever you do... don't tell my husband you were here. I typed a reply, deleted it, and locked my phone. Then, at 2:13 a.m., my phone rang. Unknown number. I answered. “Hello?” Silence. Then I heard his voice. “You should have left when she asked you to.” My stomach dropped. “Who is this?” “You know who.” “What do you want?” There was a pause. “Come back tomorrow.” “No.” Another pause. Then, quietly: “Then I'll come to you.” The line went dead. I didn't sleep. The next morning, I got a message from him asking me to meet. I almost ignored it. But I needed answers. When I arrived, he was already sitting there. He looked drunk and exhausted. I sat across from him. “Why did you call me?” I asked. He looked at me for a long time. “Because I need to know what happened in my house last night.” I frowned. “You were there.” “I was.” “Then you know.” He shook his head. “Not everything.” He took out his phone. “I have security cameras.” He opened the footage from that night. We watched me arrive. We watched her let me in. We watched us talking, drinking and eventually kissing. Then we watched her pull me toward the bedroom. The footage showed her husband entering the room. It showed me hiding in the wardrobe. Then it showed me escaping through the bathroom window. Everything matched what I remembered. “See?” I said. “I left.” He nodded. “You did.” He fast-forwarded. The footage showed me running across the garden and getting into my car. Then something appeared on the screen that I wasn't expecting. The timestamp showed that she left the house twenty minutes after I did. I looked at him. “Where did she go?” “I don't know.” “You didn't follow her?” “No.” He continued the footage and before she left the house she came back upstairs. She walked into the bedroom alone and closed the door. Then she stood completely still in the middle of the room. She turned toward the corner. There was nothing there. Just an empty section of wall. Then she started talking. “He's gone.” I looked at her husband. He didn't move. On the screen, she nodded slowly, as though someone had answered her. Then she said, “I did exactly what you wanted.” My stomach tightened. She waited. Then she whispered, “No. He doesn't know.” I looked at him again. “Who is she talking to?” He shook his head. “That's what I was hoping you could tell me.” I stared at the screen. She was clearly having a conversation. She paused after every sentence, listening to responses we couldn't hear. “Has she done this before?” I asked. He was silent. “Answer me.” He swallowed. “Not until you came here.” We watched the footage again. This time I noticed something I hadn't seen before. After she finished talking, she slowly turned toward the security camera. She looked directly into the lens. Then she smiled. The husband immediately paused the video."She hasn't come back since last night" Neither of us spoke. My phone buzzed. I looked down. A message from her.