I knew my man’s sudden interest in home improvement didn’t stack up… By Sarah Asman, 47

Glancing at the clock, I reluctantly scooped the dish of stew back into the pot. It was gone 8pm and my hubby Neil still wasn’t home for tea.

His dinner had long gone cold, and yet again I’d eaten alone. Neil was an electrician, and had offered to lend his workmate Steve a hand in doing up his new house.

I suppose I didn’t mind. It was nice of him to offer to help after hours. But I missed having my husband at home for the evening.

This house really must be a wreck.

The project had been going on for weeks. By the time I’d resigned myself to snuggling up in bed alone, Neil eventually came home.

‘I’m knackered,’ he sighed, pulling off his clothes to join me under the covers.

‘I’m not surprised,’ I said. ‘You’ve been out for hours.’

‘Sorry love,’ he mumbled.

Time went on, and so did that blooming DIY project.

But I had a niggling doubt at the back of my mind. Neil was coming home from Steve’s without a spot of dust or a speck of paint on him.

Surely a project of this scale would be a bit messier? And anyway, I was gobsmacked that Neil still had the patience with it all.

The man I married 22 years before usually couldn’t wait to pack his kit away and put his feet up. Yet instead he was coming home later and later.

8pm turned into 10pm turned into 2am. One night when he came crawling into bed in the early hours I confronted him.

‘Where on earth have you been?’ I mumbled, still half asleep.

‘I know it’s late,’ he said. ‘Me and Steve decided to check out the local nightclub.’

With that, I was suddenly wide awake. I’d married Neil when I was just 18, and even back then he hadn’t been into nightclubs.

It just wasn’t his scene. The loud music, being crammed into a dark room - it wasn’t for either of us.

‘You…?’ I spluttered.

‘Yeah, what’s wrong with that?’ he said, sounding offended.

‘Nothing,’ I lied. But that night I barely slept a wink. I could tell Neil was up to something, and I was determined to find out what.

So, smelling a rat, I turned detective. A week later, yet again Neil hadn’t come home from work. He claimed he was helping Steve again.

So, I found Steve’s phone number and decided to give him a call. My heart was pounding as I dialled. It was a make or break moment, and I had a feeling that Steve was going to say something I didn’t want to hear.

Then, Steve answered. ‘It’s Sarah,’ I said, trying to stop my voice wavering. ‘Have you seen Neil?’

‘Erm, no,’ he said, sounding confused. ‘I’ve not seen him since we left work earlier.’

My stomach lurched. My worst fears had come true - Neil was lying to me. I hung up quickly. Then I slumped down into the sofa, my head in my hands.

My marriage was crumbling before my eyes, and I wanted answers. By the time Neil came home I hatched a plan.

As soon as I heard his key in the lock I plastered on a smile. ‘Hi love, shall I put some dinner on for you?’ I asked innocently.

‘No don’t worry,’ Neil said. ‘Steve got us a takeaway to say thanks for all my help.’

I felt sick at his lie but I wanted to find out more.

After all, if I was going to blow apart a 20-year marriage I wanted to know why.

So, while Neil was at work, I had secretly turned detective. First, I decided to have a pry at his Facebook profile.

On the surface there was nothing suspicious. He hadn’t been tagged in anything, and he hadn’t been silly enough to upload any photos that would give me a clue.

So, then I turned to his friends list. As I scrolled down I saw lots of familiar names - family members and friends from past and present.

But, there were a few women on there who I didn’t recognise. And, funnily enough, Neil had never mentioned them.

I didn’t want to rush in like a crazed wife, accusing any old person of sleeping with my husband. Instead, I sent a friend request from my own account to all of the women I didn’t know.

I thought that if one of them was up to no good with my hubby, they’d soon find out he had a wife if they didn’t know already.

Over the next few days, some of the women started accepting my friend requests. I was dying to grill them but I resisted the temptation.

Then, one afternoon, my patience paid off and a message popped into my inbox from someone called Julie.

I know you don’t know me, but I know you… she had typed. I know you have two children and you’re married.

I read on.

Do you know where Neil was last Tuesday? He was with me… she finished.

Instead of feeling upset, a strange sense of relief flooded through me. I’d known Neil wasn’t telling me the truth, and now I had answers.

I wasn’t going crazy, and I wasn’t being paranoid. He really was cheating. He’d told me he’d been with Steve yet again that night. But, Julie had outed my rat.

He wasn’t doing DIY - he’d been screwing another woman. This time, when Neil got home I wasn’t going to play happy families.

‘Can you tell me who Julie is?’ I raged, before he’d even had time to take his boots off.

‘Who? No-one. I mean…’ he blustered.

‘Well I know who she is. She sent me this,’ I said, dragging him over to see the incriminating message on the computer.

Then, Neil went white. He tried to convince me it was nothing, and Julie was lying to me. I was having none of it.

‘Come on, we’re going out,’ I said, marching to the front door. ‘We’re going to Julie’s and then maybe I’ll find out who the liar is.’

He broke down in tears, blubbing an apology.

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ he cried. ‘It will end now. Right now.’

‘No. I want you to leave,’ I said.

So, Neil reluctantly packed his bags and went to his mum’s. I was still furious with him. But, as the days went by I softened.

We might have married young, but we’d stood the test of time. He’d betrayed me in the worst way possible yet I still loved him.

I had the kids to think about too. My eldest was doing his GCSEs and having drama at home wouldn’t do him any good.

Eventually I agreed Neil could move back in. There was one strict condition though. ‘No more women,’ I warned. ‘You won’t get another chance.’

For the next few weeks Neil was a doting husband. No more late evenings with Steve, and no more pretend nightclubs.

I couldn’t forget, but at least I could try to move on. But soon, Neil’s shifty behaviour started again.

He wasn’t going out, but instead he’d stay up late long after I went to bed messing around on Facebook.

‘Who are you talking to?’ I asked.

‘Just a friend,’ he said, quickly closing down the page.

I didn’t believe him. And, soon enough I got a Facebook message from his mysterious ‘friend’.

Her name was Sue, and she admitted she’d been seeing him. I began to piece it all together. He’d started sleeping with Julie to make Sue jealous.

He was behaving like a single man, not someone with a wife and kids at home.

I wasn’t going to go back on my word, I couldn’t forgive him again.

I knew as soon as I told Neil I’d caught him out again, our marriage really would be over.

Eventually, with Sue and Julie both telling me exactly what Neil was up to, I’d had enough. I threw Neil out, and they both ended their affairs with him too.

Now, Neil’s moved on and we’ve divorced, but I’m still single. I’d finally caught my DIY rat out once and for all.

Neil, 48, said: ‘Well I expect it’s been a bit exaggerated but as long as my name and all that is changed on the story I’m not really bothered what you put. Whatever she wants to put, I’m not bothered. I was just sick of working for no money. She was taking all the money out of the account and spending it all and her excuse was it was to make herself happy. I suppose I got a bit sick with it after a while. So when the opportunity came up to have an affair I suppose I never really stopped it from happening.’

Sarah knew her hubby was up to no good when he took a sudden interest in DIY. The team at Sell My Story helped her name and shame him by placing her story in a woman's magazine, as well as various news outlets online. If you've been betrayed and want revenge - and to earn a top fee in the process - give us a call on 0117 973 3730.


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