My name is Ana Reyes.
My husband, Marco Reyes, and I had been married for seven years. We have a young son named Lucas. For most of our marriage, I truly believed Marco was a calm, hardworking, and responsible man.
Marco worked an office job in Ortigas, while I managed a growing online business from home in Quezon City. Over the years, my income became more stable—and eventually higher than his. Every month, we both deposited money into a joint account for household expenses. But because most of the funds came from my business, the ATM card was registered under my name.
Marco knew the PIN.
I never imagined he would misuse it.
Lately, though, something felt wrong.
Marco started coming home late almost every night, always with the same excuses—overtime, client meetings, sudden business trips. His phone was constantly in his hand, and he never let anyone touch it. Even when our son reached for it, Marco would quickly pull it away.
Doubt crept into my heart.
But I had no proof.
Until one night.
Marco was in the shower when his phone, left charging on the table, suddenly buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw a message pop up:
“Don’t forget to prepare your passport. We’re leaving for vacation tomorrow! I’m so excited!”
My heart shattered.
With trembling hands, I unlocked the phone and opened the chat.
There it was.
Plane tickets.
A luxury beach resort booking.
Tours and spa packages.
All paid for with my bank card.
I let out a bitter laugh.
All the nights I stayed awake packing orders.
All the times I skipped rest to save for our family.
All the trust I placed in him—
He was secretly spending it all on another woman.
That night, I didn’t sleep.
I thought about our son. I didn’t want shouting or chaos at home. I didn’t want him to be hurt by a scandal between his parents.
But I also refused to let Marco and his mistress enjoy even a single peso of my hard-earned money.
So I made a plan.
The Morning of the Lie
The next morning, Marco woke up early, neatly dressed, his suitcase already by the door.
“I have to go on a business trip for a few days,” he said casually. “I might not be able to reply much, and I won’t be around to help with Lucas.”
I forced a small smile.
“Okay,” I said softly.
After he left, I made a call.
A close friend of mine worked at NAIA. I asked her to discreetly check Marco’s flight details. Not long after, she called me back.
“He’s flying to Cancun this afternoon,” she said. “Two tickets.”
That was all I needed to hear.
I went to the airport.
Not to cause a scene.
Not to scream or cry.
I just wanted to see it with my own eyes—so he could never deny it.
At the Airport
Near the check-in counters, I saw him.
Marco was holding hands with a young, stylish woman. They laughed together, looking like a happy couple. My fists clenched, but I forced myself to stay calm.
I followed at a distance as they passed check-in and walked toward immigration.
Then it happened.
An immigration officer suddenly stopped them.
His voice was cold and firm.
“Sir, ma’am, the card used to purchase these tickets has been flagged for unauthorized use. We need both of you to step aside for verification.”
Marco froze.
The color drained from his face.
The woman turned to him, panicked.
“What does that mean? You said everything was settled!”
I stepped forward calmly.
“That card belongs to me,” I said clearly. “He used it without my permission to take you on vacation.”
The area filled with murmurs. People began to stare.
Marco stammered, “I… I just wanted to take her on a trip. I didn’t mean any harm…”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“No harm?” I said. “You stole money from your wife and your child to spend it on your mistress.”
He had no answer.
The immigration officer asked him to sign a statement, informing him that the case could be forwarded for investigation due to misuse of a bank account.
When the woman heard that, she exploded.
“You told me you were rich!” she shouted at him. “So it was your wife’s money all along? You lied to me!”
She shoved his arm away and stormed off, leaving him standing there—humiliated and alone.
Walking Away
I looked at Marco one last time.
There was sadness in my heart—but also certainty.
“From today on,” I said quietly, “we’re finished. You’ll face the consequences on your own.”
I turned and walked away, ignoring his desperate calls.
That day, I cried.
But I also felt free.
I realized that a man who betrays his family’s trust and steals his wife’s money to please another woman does not deserve forgiveness.
I went home and hugged my son. Lucas smiled at me, unaware of everything that had happened.
And in that moment, I made a promise—to him and to myself.
Life may take away a bad husband,
but you should never lose your dignity,
your self-respect,
or your faith in yourself.