For months, John led a double life—loyal husband by day, unfaithful lover by night. His wife, Helen, had her suspicions, but nothing concrete. John, however, felt confident in his routine, even going as far as drugging Helen’s wine one night to sneak out without raising alarms.

After tucking her into bed, he left to meet his mistress, convincing himself—once again—that this would be the last time. But deep down, he knew better.

When he returned in the early hours, the house was silent. As he crept upstairs, everything seemed normal—until he opened the bedroom door.

Helen was standing by the window, wide awake.

“I know, John,” she said, calmly.

Confused and panicked, he looked past her. The wall behind was covered with photos—him and his mistress, captured in damning detail.

“I gave you a chance to come clean,” Helen said. “But you never did.”

All John could offer was a tearful apology.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” she replied, walking away.

Left alone, John realized he hadn’t just betrayed his wife—he had lost himself. And some mistakes, he now knew, can’t be taken back.