I Opened My Old Email Account That I Hadn't Used in 3 Years — After Checking the Emails I Had to Divorce My Husband Immediately

Julia was just checking her old email when something unexpected caught her eye. A message from three years ago, with a sender's name that sent a shiver down her spine. Who was the email from? And what did it say?

A simple life with my husband and kids is all I had dreamt of, but I guess fate wanted me to have something better. But for that, I had to go through a period of immense pain.

Pain that changed my perspective on life and molded me into the woman that I am today.

So, this story begins from the time I was working as a tech intern at this small firm in town. Back then, I was a fresh grad looking for opportunities to learn new skills.

I was on my best behavior while working there. I'd show up on time, complete all my tasks with the best of my efforts, and try to build useful connections there that'd help me climb up the corporate ladder.

Little did I know I'd build a long-lasting personal connection there that'd change my life forever.

It all began after my boss introduced me to Lyle during one of the team meetings. He had been recruited a year ago in the finance department and was an asset to the company according to my boss.

Lyle was different from the rest of the team. He kept to himself, rarely engaging in office chit-chat or joining us for lunch.

At first, I thought he was just shy or maybe a bit standoffish. I got to know a different side of him after we were assigned to work on the same project.

"Hey, Lyle," I said one day, mustering up the courage to break the ice. "I was wondering if you'd like to grab coffee sometime? To discuss the project, of course."

"Sure, Julia," he said, looking up from his computer screen. "That'd be nice."

That coffee meetup turned into regular lunch breaks, and soon, I found myself looking forward to our conversations. Lyle had a dry sense of humor that caught me off guard. He was just different from all the other men.

Before I knew it, I was the one flirting, dropping hints, and finally asking him out on a proper date.

"So, Lyle," I began. "There's this new restaurant downtown. Want to check it out with me this Friday? You know, outside of work hours?"

"I'd love to, Julia," he said with a smile.

I couldn't believe he said yes. I was the happiest girl that day.

Things escalated quickly after that. We started dating and I soon got a job at another firm. After that, we made time to see each other at least twice a week.

Then came the day that changed everything. We were walking in the park when Lyle suddenly stopped and turned to face me.

"Julia," he said. "I've been thinking a lot about us. About our future."

I was totally clueless until I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a small velvet box.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, looking straight into my eyes.

I was over the moon. I thought I was dreaming.

"Yes!" I cried, throwing my arms around him. "Yes, of course I will!"

The first person I called after the proposal was my high school best friend, Sandra. I couldn't wait to share my happiness with her.

"Oh my God, Julia!" Sandra squealed when I told her the news. "That's amazing! But... are you sure? I mean, are you absolutely certain Lyle's the one you want to spend the rest of your life with?"

"Sandra," I laughed, "I've never been more certain about anything in my life. Lyle is... he's perfect. He's kind, he makes me laugh, he supports my dreams. He's everything I've ever wanted."

"Well, if you're sure," Sandra said. "Then I'm thrilled for you, sweetie. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

Little did I know then how those words would come back to haunt me.

I was 26 when I tied the knot with Lyle in an intimate ceremony. All our friends and family were there, beaming with joy for us.

There was nothing that told me not to marry him or that I'd regret my decision years later. If only I'd known what would happen a few years down the line.

Two years after our wedding, we welcomed our first child into the world. A beautiful baby boy we named Anthony.

The moment I held him in my arms, I felt a love I'd never experienced before. Lyle was right there beside me.

"He's perfect," Lyle whispered, with tears in his eyes. "Just like his mother."

Life seemed perfect. We were happy, successful, and now parents to a wonderful little boy.

Three years ago, we were blessed again with the birth of our daughter, Rosa. Our family felt complete.

But the same year Rosa was born, something strange happened. Something that would set in motion a chain of events I never could have predicted.

Sandra went missing.

I remember the day I found out like it was yesterday.

I was at home, feeding Rosa, when my phone rang. It was Sandra's mother.

"Julia, dear," she said, "have you heard from Sandra recently? She hasn't answered her phone in three days, and it's unreachable now. I even called one of her neighbors, and they said they hadn't seen her around for a few days."

A chill ran down my spine. This wasn't like Sandra at all.

"That's... that's strange," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "Have you informed the police? This sounds serious."

I tried calling Sandra myself, but the phone was unreachable. I couldn't stop worrying about her.

The police launched a search operation, but what they found only deepened the mystery. Sandra's house was empty, and her major belongings were gone. It seemed like she'd run away somewhere.

The police eventually closed the case, but I couldn't let it go.

I often found myself wondering where my best friend had gone. Why had she left without a word?

I tried looking for her online and searched social media, but there wasn't a single clue. It was as if Sandra had vanished into thin air.

I had no idea then that I'd learn about my friend's true whereabouts a few months ago.

That day changed my life forever.

It started like any other day. I dropped Anthony and Rosa off at school and returned home. The house was quiet after Lyle left.

I was sitting in the living room, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook when I stumbled across an old graduation photo of Sandra and me.

The photo brought back a flood of memories, and I suddenly remembered that one of our friends had sent more photos from that day to my old email account. Curious, I picked up my laptop and tried to log in.

"The email or password is incorrect," flashed across the screen after my first attempt.

Frowning, I tried another password, and it worked! A smile played on my lips as I logged in, seeing the flood of unread messages.

But as I scrolled down, my smile suddenly faded. My gaze landed on one particular email.

It said, "From Sandra K."

My hands trembled as I opened the email. I felt the world crumbling around me as I read my best friend's message.

She wrote that my husband was involved in an affair. With her.

The email read:

Dear Julia,

By the time you read this, I'll be long gone. I'm leaving town because of what happened between me and Lyle. I feel so ashamed, and I know I'll never be able to look you in the eye again.

Julia, I was Lyle's mistress. He's been cheating on you... with me. It started when you were pregnant with Rosa.

No, no, no, I thought. This can't be happening.

After taking a deep breath, I scrolled down and continued reading.

I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I'm leaving because I'm pregnant, and Lyle has refused to raise the child. He threatened me, said if I told you anything, he'd turn my life upside down. I can't stay here anymore.

I hope someday you can forgive me, though I know I don't deserve it.

Goodbye, Julia. I'm sorry for everything.

Sandra

I stared at the screen, unable to believe what I just read.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I sobbed like a baby. The date on the email was the same day Sandra had gone missing.

The truth was bitter, but there was nothing I could do to change it.

Lyle, my Lyle, the father of my children, had cheated on me. With my best friend. When I was pregnant with our daughter.

Wow. That was just unbelievable.

At that point, I knew I couldn't stay in that house a minute longer. I couldn't face Lyle. I couldn't ask him why he did that to me.

I don't know how I made myself stop crying, but I somehow got up and packed a bag for myself and the kids. Then, I picked them up from school and drove to my parents' house.

Anthony kept asking why we weren't going home, but I couldn't bring myself to explain what had happened. How could I tell him that his father, the man he adored, had betrayed us all?

That night, I wrote a message to Lyle after the kids slept.

I told him I knew everything about his affair with Sandra. I told him everything that Sandra had written in that email.

You'll be hearing from my lawyer soon, I wrote at the bottom of the message.

The next few weeks involved a lot of tears and paperwork. I filed for divorce, and my heart broke all over again as I signed the documents.

It's gonna be okay, I told myself.

As days passed, the pain turned into relief.

Relief that I no longer had to worry about a cheating husband. Relief that I could start over, and rebuild my life on my own terms.

Being on my own with my kids hasn't been easy, but I wake up feeling stronger every day. I also think about Sandra sometimes.

I wonder where she is, and how she's doing.

Here's another story you might like: Thirty-four weeks pregnant and fast asleep, I was jolted awake by my husband's urgent cries in the dead of night. His reason shattered my world, and by morning, I had no choice but to file for divorce.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided "as is," and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.