Wife Loses Her Temper and Follows Husband Who Keeps Disappearing into Garage All Day — Story of the Day

Worried and furious about her husband's daily disappearances to his garage, Cheryl decided to get revenge. But when the truth of her husband's actions came out, she took drastic measures to clean up her mess…and ruined her entire life.

Cutlery clanged against plates as Cheryl, Frank, and their daughter, Annie, finished dinner. As soon as the bellies were full, Frank stood, cleaning his mouth with a paper napkin.

"Where are you going?" Cheryl asked, frowning.

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"To the garage. I have a few things to do," he answered, walking towards the front door.

"Wait, Frank. I thought we could watch a movie tonight. It's been so long since we did anything together. The garage is across town, and it's already so late. Can't you work on that vintage car later?" she wondered, almost begging.

"No, sweetheart. I won't have time later. I'm paying good money to rent that space, and I have to use it as much as possible," he said, shaking his head and putting on his shoes.

Cheryl crossed her arms, holding her tongue and trying to appear relaxed, but she was frustrated. Frank had bought a vintage car she had never seen, and since their home garage was full, he decided to rent one far from their house.

"When it's ready," Frank muttered, kissed her goodbye, and left.

"Where are you going?" she turned to Annie.

Their daughter was 21 and in college but still lived with them because her school was close to home. However, Annie was also getting ready to leave. "I'm off to Sandra's house. We have a chem test coming up," she said off-handedly.

"Have you seen Dad's car?" Cheryl continued, her arms still crossed.

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"Mom, just let it go. Dad has a hobby. You should get one, too," Annie shrugged and left.

Her words were not comforting, and Cheryl couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her car keys and finally decided to find out what was going on. Her fists tightened around her steering wheels as she swiveled out of her driveway and began her journey.

"Like just anyone can fix cars these days," Cheryl scoffed as she got on the road towards the general direction of the garage rental in town.

In her gut, she knew that Frank was hiding something. It didn't make sense that a man who had never been interested in cars would suddenly buy and restore one. However, he had proof about the rental space, which eased her mind for a while. As time went on, though, she got steadily more suspicious of her husband's silence when he was at home.

He would get home, eat, and rush to the garage most nights, returning at odd hours of the night. Once, she thought she caught a whiff of women's perfume when he got in bed, but she was half-asleep. It could've been her imagination.

Still, Frank wasn't the same man she had married. Cheryl had tried to be patient. But cheaters never tell the truth unless caught, right?

"Today is the day I catch you in the act, then," she said, getting closer to the garage rentals. Her eyes immediately spotted Frank's car in front of a space. But she parked far away, just in case, killing the lights and turning off the engine quickly.

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Biting her lips, Cheryl grabbed her phone and debated what to do. She could send him a fake urgent message telling him to come home quickly. That would send him and his possible mistress scurrying from the garage.

She could also burst in there quickly with her camera on, ready to get them. "Yes, that's the better choice. I need proof of cheating," she said, taking off her seat belt and ready to exit.

But the garage door opened just then, and a woman in a bright sequined dress with big blonde hair came out. Despite her strong resolve to catch her husband cheating, Cheryl's mouth dropped open. In that second, she realized how much she wanted to be wrong about Frank's cheating.

She had no idea what to do at that moment. The mistress had left, so bursting into the garage to yell at Frank seemed stupid and fruitless. He would probably try to lie and gaslight her. Annie would certainly take his side, Cheryl thought. She was daddy's girl, no matter what.

So, she pulled her up after managing to control her rising emotions and turned the ignition on. Despite her tendency to make hasty decisions, like grabbing her car and stalking her own husband, she needed more time to think about things thoroughly before making another choice.

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But as she drove home, she realized that thinking wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want to wait for Frank, to be honest. That's not gonna happen. Cheryl wanted to take action, so a plan started forming. It was stupid, but it would certainly work. It would open the wounds of the past for Frank, and it would hurt him just as he had hurt her.

***

"I can't believe you called me," Cheryl's ex-lover, Adam, smiled as the waitress delivered their drinks. They were at the poshest bar in Rochester, New York. Cheryl was rocking a dress she hadn't worn since before Annie was born.

But she still fit in it and felt fabulous. Her hair was perfect, and her husband was off with his mistress, so there was no guilt for her. All her thoughts centered around revenge; if she had fun in the process, that would be a bonus.

She laughed at Adam's words, flipping her locks in a flirty manner. "Well, it's just been so long," Cheryl smiled coyly at Adam, not leaving her intentions to the imagination.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you called, but I'm confused," he continued, momentarily looking down at his drink. "What's changed?"

Cheryl pretended to sigh deeply. "Things were very different years ago. I had no idea what I wanted, but I realize now that I made a huge mistake when I didn't pick you, Adam," she began, knowing how her words would hit home.

Adam's eyes widened. "Wow. Really?"

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"Are you married or with someone? Was this the wrong time to call?" Cheryl wondered, not caring but gauging to see if he was open to her plans. She would never tell him the truth, but she needed a willing person to follow her idea.

"No, I've dated here and there, but Cheryl, no one has ever compared to you," Adam revealed sincerely. "I talk to my friends about you often. About our time together."

"It was something, right?" she grinned, pretending to reminiscence.

"Yes. It was beautiful," he continued. "I often think you're 'the one that got away.' Such a cliché, right?"

"Really?" Adam asked, breathless. "What about Frank?"

"We're technically together. But our marriage… it's not working. It's terrible. He's boring and awful. I think I would've left him sooner if we didn't have a child," Cheryl lied through her teeth.

In truth, she would've never considered going back to Adam. While their romance was the stuff teenagers fantasize about – explosive encounters, passionate intimacy, and angst galore – Cheryl knew what truly mattered.

She and Adam would fight, break up, and get together again.

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During one of their many breakups, Cheryl met Frank and saw what a real relationship with communication, stability, and respect could be. He was the exact opposite of Adam and perfect in every single way. So, when Adam returned, wanting her back, Cheryl made a choice. It was the right one, even if it took a while for Adam to get the hint.

But looking back only hurt more because Frank was cheating on her, something she never thought was possible. Cheryl didn't regret her past choices, but it was strange how the pain he caused only got deeper as time passed. Her heart almost crumbled when she remembered that blonde woman, and her mind was in turmoil as she weaved her plan further in her mind.

But she was not confused at all about Adam. He was only a tool. A means to an end, and when her plan was over. She only had to pretend at that moment.

"So, you're getting separated?" he wondered, distracting her from her thoughts.

"Yes, and Adam, I know it's been years, but do you think we could–" Cheryl started, her finger moving on her glass.

"Yes!" he answered, not letting her finish the question.

Cheryl smiled in a way she hoped was seductive and didn't show her vindictiveness at all. "Wonderful."

***

"What are we doing here? What is this?" Adam asked, frowning at the garage door open, and they entered the rental.

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A week after their bar encounter, Cheryl had suggested meeting at the rental right at dinnertime, knowing that Frank would appear shortly afterward. Adam agreed immediately.

She was distracted by the rental itself. As she had always suspected, there was no car inside, but there were drawers, boxes, a vanity table, a closet, and a shoe shelf… with high heels. The vision of them cemented her resolve to continue with her plan.

Frank would arrive, and the pain she had been dealing with in silence – unable to shed a single tear – would be over. She wanted him to hurt and hoped this was enough. There was a slight chance Frank wouldn't even care. He had another woman, after all, but Cheryl had to keep going.

So, she turned to Adam extending her arms like a showgirl from a competition program. "This is Frank's garage. He apparently comes here to work on his vintage car. I don't know where that is, but it'll work anyway," she said brightly.

"I don't understand."

"Really?" Adam asked, starting to smile.

"Yeah. You remember how I was when you worked on your motorcycle," she recalled, getting closer to Adam. "How I would come behind you and touch your back…your shoulders…"

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She mimicked all her words, and her hands felt Adam's trembling body. He was convinced almost immediately because his strong hands grabbed her body and pinned her to the garage wall in a scorching kiss.

He hadn't changed at all. This was how she remembered things. Adam liked power, roughness, passion, and urgency. But she slowed him down. Cheryl needed things to take a while so Frank could get there in time.

But soon enough, she heard a car outside, and even Adam noticed. "Is someone coming?" he asked between kisses.

"No, no. It must be for another rental," she said, distracting him and pulling off his shirt to be "caught" in a more compromising position.

"Yeah, Dad. I know where you keep your shoes," Cheryl heard as her body froze. It was not Frank. It was Annie, and the excitement of her revenge drained immediately.

"Get off!" she whispered urgently, pushing Adam back.

"What? What?" he said, wiping his wet lips.

"It's my daughter! Get in the closet! Now!" she said, keeping her voice down but showing desperation. She grabbed his shirt from the floor and threw it at his chest. "GO! GO! GO!"

Adam nodded and entered the closet as best he could just when the garage door opened, and Annie's eyes widened in shock. "Mom! What are you doing here?"

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Cheryl didn't have time to devise any excuse, so she blurted, "I came here to find out the truth! I know your dad is hiding something from me!"

Annie was taken aback but remained quiet, waiting for Cheryl to continue. So, she scrambled to say something else.

"Where's the vintage car? What is this place? Who needs a vanity in a garage? A closet? And women's shoes?" she asked, pointing at everything that seemed out of place in the garage. But a thought entered her mind. "Wait, Annie. What are you doing here?"

Annie sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I'm here to pick… some shoes up. For Dad."

"What? No! Dad is not cheating," Annie said, frustrated.

"Whose shoes are there then?" Cheryl asked, not wanting to sound accusatory but unable to hide it. "I can't believe you would cover his affair."

"I already said Dad is not having an affair. But I'm covering something," Annie said, nodding to herself. "I've told him often to tell you the truth, but he's afraid you'll judge him."

"Annie, I saw a woman leaving this place days ago," Cheryl shook her head.

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"You don't know what you saw, Mom," Annie continued, exasperated. "But today, I'm going to show you the truth. Come with me."

Cheryl saw her daughter walking back to her car and followed reluctantly. She was upset with her and angry about her plan falling apart. But she had no choice. Annie gestured for her to hurry up. Cheryl looked at the closet for a second and followed her daughter.

She sent Adam a quick message from the car, telling him to find his way out and they would talk again soon. Annie only drove for a few blocks before she parked her car in front of…a club. "Why are we here?" Cheryl wondered, looking at the neon signs and the people in line to enter.

"You'll see," Annie said, clicking her seat belt off and exiting.

Cheryl did the same but walked awkwardly behind her daughter as she strolled beyond the long waiting line, greeted the security guard who knew her by name, and let them inside without issues.

My revenge didn't account for a visit to this kind of club, she thought as Annie grabbed a table and urged her to sit.

***

Annie had ordered Cheryl a few drinks, and they watched several shows. She had never been to that type of place before, but the servers were kind, and the stars on stage were gorgeous. She was having fun with her daughter.

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They played dance music between performances, and people enjoyed themselves near the stage with the entertainers. The beat was pumping her heart and adrenaline, almost erasing the horrible few days she had had. But there was a problem.

"Annie, I still don't understand why we're here," Cheryl nudged her daughter, but Annie pointed to the stage.

"This is why we're here," she said, and Cheryl turned to see the lights changing, and surprisingly the same woman she had seen the other night appeared. She wore the same clothes and started singing a beautiful rendition of ABBA's "Chiquitita."

"You brought me to see your dad's mistress?" she shouted angrily at Annie over the music.

Cheryl looked at the woman again, and finally, it clicked. Beneath all that makeup, the dress, the high heels, the shoes, and the wig…was her husband.

"Frank?" she asked, widening her eyes at Annie, who nodded knowingly. "My husband is a drag queen?"

"Yeap."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Well, the show has only been happening for a few months, but I think it may have been a latent desire or a hidden talent," Annie answered carefully. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Mom. But this was his thing. I only discovered it by chance when my friends and I came here one night."

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Cheryl's mouth opened and closed several times through Frank's musical number. He was good. The crowd liked him, so she clapped with Annie when he finished. Another person appeared on stage, but Cheryl wasn't paying attention.

She was thinking back to her relationship with Frank, trying to see if there were signs. He always liked her shoes, but many men sexually loved women's heels. Nothing else had ever alerted her to his tendencies and secret desires.

Annie was quiet, letting her think back. "Why did he hide it?"

"Seriously? You would've been fine with this?" her daughter wondered.

"I don't know. But it would've been much better than thinking he was cheating," Cheryl bit her lip. "Can we go talk to him?"

Annie smiled and took her backstage.

Frank was glad Annie had arrived because he had specifically sent her to the garage to pick up a pair of shoes he had forgotten. But all those thoughts disappeared when he saw Cheryl with her.

"Honey! Wh–" he began nervously, removing his wig as if that would hide anything.

"Keep the wig, Frank," she said, patting his shoulder. "I already saw the show. God, you scared me. I thought you were cheating."

"What?" he continued, looking between his wife and daughter.

"It's a long story," Cheryl sighed. "I'm glad I know the truth now."

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Frank smiled, blinking rapidly at the feelings that traveled through his body. On their drive home, he explained how hard keeping this secret had been for him.

"Did you wear my shoes?" Cheryl asked directly.

“At first," Frank answered, grinning slightly. "But they didn't fit. Your feet are too small."

"Does this mean you're a woman now?" she asked tentatively. She didn't know what would be offensive or too ignorant.

Cheryl felt better, knowing more about her husband and being able to ask these questions so openly. "But how did you end up in that club?" she asked as they arrived home.

"Money has been tough since Annie started college. I looked for extra gigs online and found a position just arranging the stage and handling equipment. Like a roadie. But then, I was entranced by the shows, found myself singing along, and well, I think the other queens told the manager. He talked to me and said it was better pay, and I would get a cut of the tips,” he explained. “And it was just... Almost natural. Like it was always supposed to happen.”

He paused for a second. “We don't have to worry for a while now since people seem to like me," Frank chuckled, opening her car door.

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"I didn't know we were in trouble," Cheryl expressed, grabbing his arm to stop him on their porch.

"We're not, but honestly, I was dying at my regular job. It wasn’t enough money either. Now, I love my office work because I know at night, I'll be doing something amazing and earning more for our house. For our family," Frank explained, assuring her. “It gave me peace of mind, and it’s like a whole new world opened up.”

“That sounds exciting,” Cheryl smiled. “But why hide it from me?”

“I didn’t know you would be so open to this. Your husband wearing heels and a dress, and a wig. That’s not exactly easy to swallow. But thank you. I feel lighter now that it’s out there and that you have received the news so easily. This isn’t something I ever imagined doing, but I finally feel like myself.”

“Frank, I thought you were cheating on me, and I went crazy over the last few days, trying to catch you or something,” Cheryl sighed. “Compared to that, this is…pretty great. I can accept this.”

They hugged each other, not needing any more words.

Annie arrived in her car just then, and they all entered, ready to keep discussing what had happened and how they would move forward as a family. Cheryl understood why he and Annie had hidden the truth. It was a shock, and many women would probably not be alright with this. But Cheryl didn't care.

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She loved her husband and their family. She knew there was no better man than Frank for her. So, if he liked doing drag, Cheryl would support him. After how vindictively she had planned her revenge, it was the least she could do.

***

They laughed at the breakfast table, and everything was alright with the world. But the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Cheryl said, cleaning her mouth and almost skipping to the door. A quick peak through the peephole iced her veins. She took a moment to look back at her family. then opened the door slightly, slipping out before Annie and Frank could notice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she sneered at Adam, who was right outside, looking flabbergasted and upset.

"Me? Me? What the hell happened yesterday?" he asked, pointing his finger at his chest.

"Oh, man. Sorry, I forgot you were in the closet," Cheryl said, looking up. "Look, you have to go. We can't be seen here together."

"Don't send me away again, Cheryl. You told me he was a mistake. He was the wrong choice. You said you should've picked me. I let you go once, and I'm not gonna do that again," Adam insisted, his voice getting louder.

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"Shush, shush, shush. They'll hear you," she raised her hands, trying to calm him.

"Unless it was all a lie? Were you trying to get caught in that garage? Were you manipulating me?" Adam accused his brows furrowing and wrinkling his entire forehead.

"No! Please, Adam. I swear it wasn't a lie, but we can't talk here. Can we talk somewhere else? Give me your address. I'll see you later," Cheryl said, opening her eyes like Bambi's.

Adam stared quietly for a few seconds and nodded. "Fine, see you at 4."

"Alright," she sighed and went inside. She told Annie and Frank that their neighbor dropped by, wanting to discuss something stupid regarding the HOA. They believed her easily and continued talking about Frank's future performances.

Cheryl had been so happy earlier, but now, she had to think of a solution for Adam. How do I get him off my back?

***

During their relationship, Adam always believed that he could get Cheryl back. They broke up so often that it became the norm. He was used to winning her.

When she and Frank first got together, Adam tried everything to split them up. He wouldn't give up, even after the engagement and wedding. His calls continued, although she ignored them.

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Cheryl was never sure, but his fixation ended when she had Annie. Still, Cheryl knew he wouldn't stop if she tried to take back what she said at the bar. He was relentless. That wouldn’t be a problem under normal circumstances, but what if he told Frank about the bar and the garage? She couldn’t allow that.

As she drove to his apartment, Cheryl tried to think of a way to stop him from reaching out or calling again. But her brain was empty. Nothing. She would have to wing it when he reached his home.

Adam answered his apartment door with a serious expression and let her in.

"Cheryl, I've been thinking. Getting a divorce is expensive and hard, but it doesn't have to be. I can dig some dirt about Frank and make things easier for you. I'll pay for the lawyer," Adam began, not letting Cheryl get a word in.

Cheryl backtracked. "Adam, I love you. I love you so much I don't even know how I lived without you all these years. But Frank is my daughter's father. You can't hurt him."

Adam smiled and got closer. "I was just worried… that you wouldn't pick me again if the divorce were too hard. I'm sorry. I can talk to Frank. We can get to know your daughter. We can figure something out."

"Yes, I do," Adam said brightly.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

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"Sure, it's that shut door over there."

"Thank you," she said, closing the door quickly, wanting to fall down to her knees and cry out in frustration. She quietly let out several expletives and tried to think… think. She was only going along with this to appease him and not incite his competitive drive, but that would not work forever.

She splashed some water on her face and felt a headache coming. After opening his medicine cabinet, Cheryl immediately spotted some Tylenol and grabbed the bottle, only to reveal another one, which was much more interesting.

"Sleeping pills," she whispered, rubbing her chin with one hand. She grabbed that bottle, too, not thinking too hard about her next move. She exited the bathroom to see Adam uncorking a nice wine.

"It's not the one you always liked, but I do enjoy it," Adam commented as he served their glass.

"Thank you. Hmmm… do you have erm..." Cheryl stuttered, trying to think of a distraction. "Do you have Tylenol or something?"

"It should be in the medicine cabinet," Adam answered, pointing toward the bathroom.

"Oh, ugh. I don't feel comfortable looking through other people's things," she said, shrugging.

"Let me get it," Adam said and rushed. Cheryl didn't have much time. She had hidden the Tylenol bottle in her pockets, but Adam would realize it wasn't there quickly.

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Fortunately, the sleeping pills were the kind with powder encased in gelatin, so she opened as many as she could, dumping them into his wine and stirring it to dissolve it.

"I'm sorry. I think I'm out," he said, shaking his head as he exited the bathroom.

"Don't worry. It must be the stress. Let's drink this wine and relax," she offered him the glass. They sat on his couch, drinking, and Cheryl sipped, observing him.

"Ugh. This wine went bad or something," Adam said.

"Oh, you were never a wine guy," Cheryl teased, knowing he would take the bait.

"That's not really that classy," she stated, shaking her head.

"But you love me," he added.

"Sure."

They talked for a while until Adam’s words started slurring, and his eyes spun. Finally, he slumped on the couch.

"Oh, thank God," she said, standing and picking up her purse.

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"Cher," Adam slurred and suddenly fell some the coach, his body contorting in strange ways. His eyes were open and going wild, and foam slipped from his mouth.

Cheryl wasn't exactly ready for that reaction to the pills, and for one split second, she thought about calling 911. But she couldn't. Adam needed to be out of their lives for good.

So, she left, closing the door on her way out and never looking back.

***

A few days later, Frank and Cheryl booked a trip to their favorite cabin getaway and were at the airport check-in. Their relationship was better than ever since the secret was out, and she had even attended more of his performances. He did include a Shania Twain song to his roster, which was nice.

His friends were shocked at the support Frank received some his wife, and Cheryl felt proud of her progressive family. Some things were still confusing, but they were doing great.

"Let me help you with your carry-on," Frank said and grabbed her stuff with one hand, putting his other on her waist to guide her toward the security area.

An unexpected commotion stopped them as several police officers ran with airport security.

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"Oh, no. What could it be?" Cheryl wondered, concerned.

"Maybe, we should've driven directly to the cabin," Frank added.

"There she is!" an officer suddenly pointed directly at Cheryl and all the others swarmed towards them.

Cheryl's heart sank, and she looked at Frank with her upper teeth biting hard on her bottom lips.

"Officers, there must be some kind of mistake," Frank stated calmly when they reached them, but they didn't listen.

"Mrs. Smith, you're under arrest for attempted murder," a cop said as he grabbed both her arms to put her in handcuffs. She didn't fight, but her husband was frantic as other officers pulled him back. She could only shake her head and close her eyes.

What can we learn from this story?

• Always think before you act. It's a mistake to rush into decisions when your emotions run high. You may come to regret your actions.
• Being honest with your family is critical to avoiding trouble. Frank should've been more forthcoming about his cross-dressing, but Cheryl should've also been open about the "woman" she saw leaving the garage.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who saw her husband going into the garage every day and discovered a hidden door when she went snooping.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.