I was stunned when my son began drawing a strange smiling figure. “He comes to see mommy when you’re at work,” said Oliver innocently. At first, I dismissed it as a childish fantasy, but I quickly spotted a mysterious man entering our house, leading me on a chilling quest for the truth.
It all started when I found the drawing while tidying up the dining table. Most of Oliver’s drawings were typical for a six-year-old: dinosaurs with rainbow scales, our house with a chimney resembling a volcano, and stick figures of our family holding hands. But this one made me stop.
Among the crayon scribbles was a tall figure with unnaturally long arms and huge hands, wearing what seemed like a suit. The figure had an enormous smile stretching across its face.
“Oliver,” I called, trying to keep my voice casual as my fingers crushed the edge of the paper. “Is this me in the drawing? Who is it?”
Oliver looked up from his LEGOs, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement.
“That’s Mr. Smiles, daddy!” he exclaimed. “He’s mommy’s new friend. He comes to see her when you’re at work.”
My heart skipped a beat. Laura and I had been married for nine years. We’d had our ups and downs, like any couple, dealing with job changes, family losses, promotions, and anniversaries. But never—never—had I thought she…
No, I pushed the thought away. There had to be a reasonable explanation. Laura wasn’t that kind of person. We had built so much together.
“When does he come?” I asked, proud of how steady my voice remained despite the tremor in my hands.
Oliver stacked another block onto his tower, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
“Sometimes in the morning. Sometimes at night. He always makes mommy and me laugh.” He suddenly grew serious, his small face tightening with the weight of importance. “But, daddy, it’s a secret! Don’t tell anyone!”
The mention of laughter and a secret felt like ice in my stomach.
That night, I barely slept, watching Laura’s peaceful face in the dark. The rhythmic rise and fall of her breath, once comforting, now felt like a taunt. Every time she shifted in her sleep, I wondered what she was dreaming about. Who she was dreaming about.
The next day, I left work early, parked down the street from our house, and waited. The autumn air grew cooler as the afternoon passed, and fallen leaves slid across my windshield. A little after 3 p.m., a sleek black car pulled into our driveway.
A tall, thin man stepped out and marched up to the front door. Even from that distance, I could see his wide smile as Laura greeted him inside. The door shut behind them.
I gripped the steering wheel until my fingers were white, the leather creaking beneath my hold.
“Maybe it’s all in my head,” I whispered to myself, watching my breath fog up the window. “But if I’m wrong, I need to be sure.”
In the following weeks, I started buying flowers and gifts for Laura, trying to rekindle our bond. But I also began documenting everything.
The evidence mounted: receipts for dinners I didn’t attend, phone calls she stepped out of the room to take, and, of course, more drawings of “Mr. Smiles” by Oliver. Each new piece of evidence felt like another brick in the wall growing between us.
Laura noticed the change in me.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked one day, touching my forehead with concern. “You seem distracted lately.”
Her genuine worry only confused me further. How could she act so normal if she was hiding something so big?
“I… do you have someone else?” I asked.
“Someone else?” Laura looked at me wide-eyed, then shook her head.
“Of course not, darling!” She chuckled lightly. “How could you think that?”
Maybe I should have confronted her right then, but all my evidence was circumstantial. I needed cold, hard proof.
One Friday night, I told Laura I would be working late. Instead, I set up a hidden camera on the living room shelf and watched the feed from my car parked at the corner.
The blue glow of my phone’s screen lit up my face as I waited, my coffee cooling in the cupholder.
Right on time, Mr. Smiles arrived, and Laura greeted him with that same warm smile she used to reserve for me.
But then something strange happened. He didn’t settle on the couch or share a private dinner. Instead, my sister came in, and Oliver came running downstairs with a radiant smile. More people arrived: neighbors and friends!
Did they know about this? Worse, were they having a secret meeting? I watched in stunned silence as Mr. Smiles, now wearing a party hat, juggled three oranges for Oliver, making him laugh.
“What the hell is going on?” I muttered, fiddling with the door handle of my car.
Anger and confusion drove me toward the house. The night air felt thick and heavy as I walked up our front sidewalk. I burst through the front door, making everyone freeze mid-conversation, the cheerful music cutting off abruptly.
“Okay, you won,” I said, my voice shaking. “Everyone knew, didn’t they? Even Oliver? Even my sister?”
“No, no! Please stop!” Laura’s face drained of color, her hands clutching a roll of streamers that were cascading to the floor.
I turned to Mr. Smiles, who had stopped juggling and was staring at me wide-eyed.
“You disrespected me as a man, and you have no place here! This is my house! This is my…”
My voice trailed off when I saw something shiny on the floor.
A banner, still not hung, with golden letters reading “Happy 10th Anniversary!” The metallic paper reflected the light from the living room lamps, casting glimmers on the ceiling.
The room fell completely silent. Laura’s hands covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes, smudging her carefully applied makeup. Mr. Smiles cleared his throat and stepped forward, his famous smile nowhere to be seen.
“Sir, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said softly, his professional demeanor never faltering. “I’m a wedding planner and party entertainer. Your wife hired me months ago to plan this event—your anniversary celebration!”
“You thought I was cheating on you?” Laura’s voice broke with hurt and disbelief, each word falling like a stone between us.
I felt the ground shift beneath me. The room suddenly seemed too bright, too crowded, the decorations garish and mocking.
“I… I didn’t know what to think,” I stammered, my collar feeling too tight. “I saw him arriving here, and Oliver said a man kept visiting while I was at work, that this man made you laugh…”
“Oliver said he made me laugh because he does magic tricks for him when we plan,” Laura interrupted, her voice rising. “I was trying to do something special for you, and you thought I was being unfaithful?”
My throat tightened. “I’m sorry,” I managed to say, the words feeling inadequate. “I was wrong. I let my insecurities take over.”
Laura wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, leaving a dark mascara smudge. “How could you think that? After everything we’ve been through?”
The party guests began to leave quietly, murmuring strange goodbyes, their shoes dragging on the carpet.
My sister squeezed my shoulder as she left, whispering, “Fix this.” Oliver seemed confused and scared, so Laura’s mother took him to his room while their footsteps echoed in the tense silence.
When we were finally alone, Laura sat on the couch, her shoulders slumped. The streamers were tangled around her feet.
“I spent months planning this,” she said calmly. “I wanted it to be perfect. Remember our first anniversary? When you surprised me with that picnic in the park? I wanted to do something just as special.”
I sat down beside her, careful to leave space between us, the cushions sinking under my weight. “I messed everything up.”
“Yes, you did,” she said, turning to look at me, her eyes filled with pain and disbelief.