The GPS Took Me to His Mistress Instead

My husband was taking me out to dinner. The moment we got into his new car, he casually gave a voice command to the console:

Navigate to our usual spot.

The screen flashed, and the GPS immediately pinned a famous, high-end organic bistro known exclusively for its curated maternity menu.

I looked at him, completely confused.

"I thought we were going to that Omakase place downtown?"

Julians face stiffened for a microsecond. Then, he let out a casual laugh and swiped the screen to cancel the route.

"This stupid system. Its been full of bugs since the last software update. I need to take it to the dealership tomorrow. Did it scare you, babe?"

My heart sank, but I chose to stay silent.

A few days later, I drove to his office to drop off some urgent tax documents. Just as I parked, I saw his gorgeous new assistant, Tiffany.

She walked straight up to Julians brand-new car, completely at ease, and unlocked it with a quick voice command.

"Adjust the passenger seat to maternity lounge mode. Use my personalized profile, please."

The documents in my hands scattered all over the concrete.

Julian had told me that this car only registered one woman's voicemine.

Now, it was obeying someone else.

"Mrs. Vance? What are you doing here?"

Tiffanys sweet, high-pitched voice snapped me back to reality.

Panic flashed across her face. She quickly knelt down to help me gather the scattered papers.

Right then, Julian came rushing out of the office building.

Seeing the mess on the ground, he frowned. But instead of walking toward me, he went straight to Tiffany.

"What happened?"

He grabbed Tiffanys arm, his voice laced with a tense panic I had never heard before.

Tiffanys eyes instantly welled up with tears. She shook her head.

"Its nothing, really. Mrs. Vance just..."

Only then did Julian turn his annoyed gaze to me.

"Fiona, what is wrong with you? Why are you being so clumsy?"

"Why does she have voice access to this car?" I asked, pointing directly at the brand-new SUV.

Julian froze.

He let go of Tiffany and stepped closer to me. The annoyance on his face melted into his signature gentle smile. He lowered his voice.

"Tiffany had a family emergency, and I had to let her borrow the car. I just set up a temporary profile for her."

"It was just for convenience, Fiona. It's a temporary guest setting. Don't overthink it."

"A temporary setting?"

I squeezed the papers in my hand, repeating his words.

"But she literally said 'passenger maternity lounge mode' and 'personalized profile.' You call that temporary?"

Julian choked on his words.

A flash of irritation crossed his eyes, but he quickly covered it up.

"Fiona, you must have misheard her. She said 'cloud-saved driving mode.' The voice recognition system in this car has been acting up lately."

"Shes just a young girl fresh out of college. How could she possibly be pregnant?"

He said it so confidently, so righteously.

He was treating me like an idiot. Did he really think I was hallucinating?

"Julian, do you honestly think Im that stupid?"

Tiffany chimed in from the side, looking utterly helpless.

"Mrs. Vance, I have a bit of an accent, so maybe that caused the mix-up. Mr. Vance was just being kind enough to help me when I was in a rush."

She called him "Mr. Vance," but they were practically finishing each other's sentences.

Watching them play their little roles made my chest tighten with a suffocating anger.

When we got home, Julian went back to his usual doting self, acting as if nothing had happened. He even voluntarily did all the chores.

That night, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, kissing my neck.

"Babe, don't be mad anymore. I promise I won't set up temporary profiles for anyone else ever again, okay?"

I didn't say a word.

While he was in the shower, I grabbed the car keys and went downstairs alone.

I sat in the driver's seat. The faint, sweet scent of another womans perfume had not yet faded.

I took a deep breath, mimicked Tiffanys soft tone, and spoke to the console.

"Hello."

The cars system responded with a cold, robotic voice:

"Identity unrecognized. Please use a registered voice profile or key fob to operate."

It felt like a knife had plunged straight into my heart.

The next morning, Julian brought breakfast to my bed, looking incredibly eager to please.

"Babe, it really was a system bug. I called the dealership first thing this morning."

"They said the latest software update has messed up some user data, especially the voice profiles. They told me to bring it in for a factory reset when I have time."

"Ive already deleted Tiffanys temporary profile. You can rest easy now, okay?"

His eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity.

I stared at him, unable to say a word.

If I hadn't heard that "Identity unrecognized" prompt with my own ears last night, I probably would have believed him.

For the next few days, he treated me like we were back in the honeymoon phase.

He came home straight after work and spent the weekend taking me out to movies and shopping.

He even suggested we finally go on that luxury trip to Hawaii we had delayed for years.

His sudden wave of tenderness began to slowly wear down my defenses.

I almost let myself fall back into his beautiful illusion.

On Wednesday, I took Julians car to the grocery store.

I casually said to the console, "Play some music."

The system paused for a few seconds.

"Sure. Playing Tiffanys Favorite Playlist."

A cold shiver ran down my spine, and my blood froze instantly.

I began tapping the screen frantically like a madwoman, trying to turn it off.

But no matter what I pressed, the words "Tiffanys Favorite Playlist" remained locked in the center of the screen.

I pulled over to the curb, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Didn't he say he deleted her?

Why was this still here?

When Julian came home that night, I confronted him immediately.

"What is 'Tiffanys Favorite Playlist' doing in your car?"

He gasped, then quickly put on a look of sheer frustration.

"This piece of junk! I told you the system is completely messed up!"

He pulled out his phone, put it on speaker, and called the dealership representative right in front of me.

"What is wrong with my car? Didn't you guys say it was reset? Why is another user's playlist still popping up when my wife drives it?"

The representative on the phone apologized profusely, claiming it might be a cloud cache issue and asking him to bring it in again.

Julian hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted.

"Babe, please don't overthink this. Its genuinely just a technical glitch."

"Ill take a day off tomorrow to get this sorted out once and for all."

He took my hand and kissed it gently.

"And to give you peace of mind, Ive already transferred Tiffany to another department. Is that enough?"

I looked into his eyes. "Really?"

"Really. Have I ever lied to you?"

His gaze was steady, without a hint of guilt.

The heavy stone in my heart finally felt a little lighter.

But the next day, while doing the laundry, I found a crumpled piece of paper in his suit pocket.

It was a billing receipt from an elite private maternity clinic.

The date on the receipt was the exact day he had sworn to me that he had deleted her profile.

Under the patient name, it read:

"Fiona Miller."

That was my name.

Clutching the receipt, I stormed into Julians home office.

"What is this?"

I slammed the paper onto his desk.

He was reviewing some reports, but when he saw the receipt, he remained surprisingly calm.

"Fiona, your health hasn't been great lately, right? I asked a friend to book a top specialist for you. I wanted to surprise you."

"Tiffany happened to feel unwell that day too, so I just gave her a ride and got her a basic checkup first."

"I used your name for her registration because I didn't want you to worry and get the wrong idea."

The explanation sounded absolutely seamless.

"A surprise?" My voice was trembling.

"Julian, do you honestly think I am brain-dead?"

"An early pregnancy confirmation test. Is that your surprise for me?"

The air in the office instantly turned freezing cold.

Julians face darkened, his gentle facade completely vanishing.

He stood up and walked toward me, step by step.

"Fiona, what are you trying to say? Are you accusing me of cheating?" He raised his voice, sounding deeply offended.

"Is that who I am to you? A man who would just betray you like that?"

"We've been married for three years. How Ive treated you... do you have no heart?"

With every sentence, he took another step closer.

The sheer pressure of his imposing figure forced me backward until my spine hit the cold wall.

"Then what about Tiffany? Where did you transfer her?" I gritted my teeth and asked.

"I told you, another department! Why can't you just trust me!" he roared.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and immediately silenced it.

"Fiona, can you please be rational? Are you really going to destroy our marriage over some petty suspicion about an outsider?"

Even as he tried to soothe me with his words, his fingers were rapidly typing a text.

I saw it clearly on his screen:

"Don't worry, I'm handling her."

My heart plummeted into a dark, bottomless abyss.

There was nothing left to deny.

The person on the other end of that phone was Tiffany.

While his mouth was promising me the world, his fingers were busy comforting his pregnant mistress.

I suddenly felt a wave of mocking laughter bubble up in my throat.

"Julian, lets get a divorce."

I said those words with absolute, chilling calm.

He froze. "What did you say?"

"I said, I want a divorce."

I looked him dead in the eye. "I can't live like this anymore. Go spend the rest of your life with your little assistant."

His face turned a terrible shade of gray.

"Fiona! Have you lost your mind?!"

He grabbed my wrist with terrifying force.

"Over this? Over some stupid software glitch in a car? You want to throw away our marriage?!"

Suddenly, a sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my lower abdomen.

I let out a weak groan, and cold sweat instantly drenched my forehead.

The pain was so blinding that my vision went black. My knees buckled, and I slid down the wall onto the floor.

"Julian... my stomach... it hurts so bad..."

I curled into a ball on the floor, my voice barely a whisper.

Julian squatted down, looking down at me with cold, skeptical eyes.

"What now? You were perfectly fine a second ago. What kind of sick game are you playing, Fiona?"

"I'm not playing... it hurts..."

I felt a sudden, warm gush of liquid between my thighs. I looked down.

The fabric of my pants was rapidly staining bright red.

Blood.

Julian saw it too, and his pupils dilated in sheer shock.

"How... why are you bleeding?"

He finally realized I wasn't acting. He tried to lift me up but panicked, his hands shaking violently.

The pain was causing me to black out. I used the last ounce of my strength to grab his hem.

"Call 911... please..."

As if waking from a nightmare, he fumbled for his phone.

The moment the call connected, he stammered:

"My... my wife has severe abdominal pain. She's bleeding a lot... but she was just arguing with me a second ago..."

Hearing his words, I nearly choked on my own breath.

Even at a moment like this, he was trying to paint me as the hysterical, difficult wife to the dispatcher.

Thankfully, the operator was highly professional. She cut him off and demanded our address immediately.

On the way to the hospital, the agonizing pain kept dragging me in and out of consciousness.

Julian's phone rang again. It was Tiffany.

He answered it, whispering in a low, hushed tone.

"I have an emergency here... don't worry, just find a place to sit down and rest. I'll come over as soon as I'm done here."

I was lying on a gurney, practically dying, while my husband was using his gentlest voice to soothe another woman.

The moment we arrived at the hospital, I was rushed straight into the emergency room.

After a quick examination behind the curtain, the doctors face turned incredibly grave.

"Its an ectopic pregnancy. The fallopian tube has ruptured, causing severe internal bleeding. We need to perform emergency surgery right now!"

Julian stood there, completely dumbfounded.

"Ectopic pregnancy? How... we always use protection..."

Just then, Tiffany actually showed up at the hospital.

She looked pale and fragile, practically trembling.

The moment she saw Julian, her tears began to stream down her face.

"Julian, I'm so scared..."

Then, she noticed me on the gurney and the critical consent form in the doctors hand.

She walked over to my bedside, her voice dripping with sweet poison.

"Fiona, how could you be so careless... Did you stress the baby out during your argument with Julian this afternoon?"

"Do you have any idea how much Julian was looking forward to having a baby? If this is because of me..."

Hearing this, Julian suddenly snapped. He rushed over, grabbed my shoulders, and began shaking me violently.

The agonizing pain in my abdomen coupled with his rough shaking made my vision spin into darkness.

"Fiona! What does this have to do with Tiffany? Did you do this on purpose to get rid of the baby?!"

"Do you hate me that much?! To the point of using our own child to punish me?!"

The doctor immediately slammed him back.

"What are you doing?! The patient is in critical condition!"

The doctor shoved the surgical consent form and the critical condition notice into Julians shaking hands.

"This is an emergency! We need to remove the ruptured fallopian tube, and we might even have to perform a hysterectomy to save her life! Sign it now!"

Julian held the pen, but his hand was shaking uncontrollably.

Tiffany whispered from behind him, her voice filled with mock concern.

"Julian... a hysterectomy... does that mean... Fiona will never be able to have children again?"

Julians hand froze.

He looked at me, and in his eyes, there was not a single shred of pity or love.

I felt my life slowly draining away.

The pain in my abdomen was consuming me entirely.

Looking at this hesitating manthe man who had sworn to love and protect me for the rest of his life, yet hesitated to save me when I was dyingmy heart finally died.

With the very last of my strength, I dragged myself up and reached for my bag.

I pulled out a document and a pen I had prepared beforehand.

I signed my own name on the surgical consent form.

Then, I flipped to the last page of the "Divorce Agreement" I had drafted days ago, and signed my name there too, smearing a drop of my own blood onto the paper.

I weakly shoved both documents into his face.

"Sign it, and I'll go into the operating room myself."

Julian stared at the blood-stained divorce papers, completely paralyzed.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

The nurse beside us stamped her foot in frustration.

"What are you waiting for?! If we delay any longer, shes going to die!"

My consciousness was fading fast, and my vision began to double.

Without looking at him again, I turned to the doctor.

"Doctor, I signed it myself. I take full responsibility."

With those final words, I plummeted into absolute darkness.