My Uber Passenger Called My Fiancée His Wife

To save up enough money for a down payment on our future house, I started driving Uber after my regular office hours, keeping it a secret from my fiance.

When the ride request popped up, I stared at my phone in disbelief for a few seconds.

In the rearview mirror, I watched my girlfriend of five years holding a mans arm as they walked toward my car.

When she looked up and saw me, her entire body went rigid. She couldn't say a word.

The destination for this ride was a five-star hotel downtown.

But just an hour ago, she had texted me on Snapchat, saying she was having dinner with her best friend, Sarah, and would be staying over at Sarah's place tonight.

As I started the engine, the man suddenly leaned forward. His voice carried a smugness he didn't care to hide.

"Hey man, could you drive as smoothly as possible? My wife gets car sick. Thanks."

I nodded numbly. My mind went completely blank.

I stared at her through the rearview mirror for a long time. She kept her head down, refusing to make eye contact.

The man nudged her gently. "Babe, do you know him?"

"No," I spoke up before she could.

In the rearview mirror, I saw her let out a visible sigh of relief. But she still didn't dare to look at me.

I was already regretting taking this ride.

The man looked to be in his early thirties. He was dressed in smart business-casual clothes, with a very expensive-looking watch on his wrist.

His hand rested naturally on her thigh.

The GPS instructed me to turn right ahead, so I flipped on the blinker.

Silence filled the car, heavy and suffocating.

The man probably felt bored, so he started scrolling through his phone gallery, leaning in to show her photos from time to time.

"Look, babe, this is the progress on our new house from last week. The hardwood floor in the living room is already done."

She mumbled a soft "yeah" in response.

I watched her through the rearview mirror.

She kept her head down, trying to shrink herself into the seat.

Five years of memories turned into nothing but air in an instant, completely outweighed by a brand-new house she shared with a stranger in the backseat.

"When did you guys get married?"

The words slipped out before I could stop myself.

The man was taken aback for a second, then he smiled, his eyes filled with pride.

"We got legally married at the courthouse last month. The big wedding ceremony is next month, and were going all out."

He said it with a boastful grin.

"Ive been working out of state for a while, so weve been long-distance. I finally got some time off to visit her, so I wanted to take her to see our new house."

Long-distance.

My throat tightened.

Her hometown was upstate, about a four-hour drive from here.

Over the past few months, she had told me countless times that she had to go back home to handle family emergencies. I had never once doubted her.

"Hey, driver, that's a nice watch you have there."

The man suddenly leaned closer, pointing at my left wrist.

I looked down. It was the watch on my wrist.

She had given it to me for my birthday last year.

I used to be too afraid to wear it because I didn't want to scratch it. But she told me that a boyfriend should wear his girls gifts, so I started wearing it every day.

She bought it with her very first project bonus. She had told me that although it wasn't expensive, she would buy me a much better one once she made more money.

My family wasn't wealthy. To give her a better life, I pushed myself to drive Uber every single night, wanting to save up as much as possible for our wedding.

We were originally planning to get married at the end of this year.

"It looks almost exactly like mine."

He held up his left wrist, showing it off.

"See? Simple design. My wife picked it out for me. She said it's a timeless classic."

In the rearview mirror, Chloes head sank even lower.

"What a coincidence," I replied.

"Its actually a couples set. Since youre wearing the watch, you must have a girlfriend, right? When are you guys tying the knot?" he asked with a chuckle.

I paused for a moment, then spoke quietly.

"We broke up."

"I just forgot to take the watch off."

The man choked on his words, the smile freezing on his face.

He looked at me, then back at his own reflection in the mirror. He was probably imagining some tragic heartbreak story in his head.

"Man, Im so sorry. I didn't know..."

"Its fine."

He leaned back into his seat and stayed quiet for a few seconds. Still, he couldn't help but whisper, "Hey, its alright. Youll find someone better. My older brother dated a girl for years before they broke up. Now his new wife is amazing."

I nodded.

The person who had remained silent in the backseat didn't say a single word.

The car finally pulled up in front of the most luxurious five-star hotel downtown.

I looked at the bright neon sign glowing in the night.

After he got out of the car, she took his arm, and they walked into the lobby together.

She looked up to talk to him, and he nodded. She never once looked back.

I sat in my car for a long time.

The AC was turned off, and the windows were rolled down. The cold night breeze blew in, making my eyes sting.

A parking guard walked over and tapped on my window, telling me that I couldn't park here for long.

I told him I was leaving right away. I started the engine, but I had no idea where to drive.

I looked down at the watch on my wrist.

Married last month.

Which meant that while I was driving Uber to save money, while I was staying up all night doing freelance design work to make extra cash, and while I was eagerly planning our winter wedding, she had already legally married someone else. She was already someone elses wife, living in a brand-new house.

And I was still desperately saving money for her.

I pulled over to the side of the road, took out my phone, and opened her Snapchat chat.

The last message was from her, sent at 6:23 PM: "Having dinner with Sarah and the girls tonight. If it gets too late, I'll just sleep at her place. Go to bed early, babe."

I typed a few words, deleted them, typed again, and deleted them again.

Finally, I sent just three words: "Let's break up."

Sent.

I took off the watch and placed it on the center console.

At the top of the chat screen, "Typing..." popped up.

I waited for a long time. The typing indicator kept flashing, but no message ever came through.

I put the car in drive, ready to leave.

Just as I shifted gears, a familiar figure appeared in my rearview mirror.

She was running out of the hotel lobby, panting as she banged on my passenger window.

"Unlock the door! Let me explain!"

Her forehead was covered in sweat, and her hair was completely messy from the wind.

I had never seen her look so disheveled before.

"Unlock it!" she begged, tapping again.

I unlocked the passenger side.

She pulled the door open and scrambled inside, breathing heavily. The scent of the hotel lobbys expensive perfume filled the car.

"How did you..."

"Let's break up," I interrupted her.

"I just texted you. You saw it, right?"

She froze. Her lips trembled. It took her a long time to say, "Its not what you think."

"Then what is it?"

"I..."

She wiped her face in frustration.

"What happened with him was just an accident."

I looked at her, waiting for her to keep making up lies.

"A few months ago, I went back to my hometown. I drank too much, and I... I mistook him for you..."

She spoke incredibly fast, panic dripping from her voice.

"It was just that one time! Who knew he would take it so seriously? His family is incredibly wealthy.

They have multiple properties and luxury cars. His parents came straight to me and offered a lot of money. You know my mom was sick back then, and we desperately needed the money for her medical bills."

I stared at her.

A few months ago.

She did go back to her hometown, claiming her mother wasn't feeling well.

During that time, she always said she was too busy with work. She barely came home, and whenever I called, she would hang up after just a few hurried words.

"You guys got married last month."

"You went back to your hometown to sign the marriage papers, and then you told me you were traveling for a business trip."

She went completely silent.

"Did your parents know?"

She nodded.

"So your entire family kept this from me."

"It wasn't about hiding it from you. I just... I didn't know how to tell you."

She grabbed my hand. Her palm was clammy with sweat.

"Leo, I really love you. Haven't you felt that over the past five years? What happened with him was just an accident. Once this is all over, we will get a divorce. Can you please just wait for me?"

I looked at her.

"You want me to wait for you?"

"Just one year, two years at most. Once I sort things out with him, Ill get a divorce."

"And then what?"

"And then well get married!" she said eagerly.

"We can still have our wedding. Weve been together for five years, Leo. Our feelings are real. Can you really just throw all of that away?"

I brushed her hand off me.

"The day you got married at the courthouse, I was driving Uber to save money for our wedding. I did it because I wanted you to have a better life."

She gasped, stunned.

"I drove three to four hours every single night. I took on freelance design work on weekends just to save an extra three to four hundred dollars a month. I thought you were working overtime.

I thought you were staying at your friends place. But in reality, you were with your husband, looking at your new house."

"Leo..."

"And now you want me to wait for you? Wait for you to finish being his wife, wait for you guys to set up your new home, and then come back to marry me?"

Without waiting for her answer, I reached over and pushed her car door open. "Get out."

"Leo, please listen to me!"

"Listen to what? Listen to when exactly you got married? Listen to how you and your family lied to me?"

I looked at her.

"You actually reminded me of something."

I turned my head away.

"Your parents knew. So from the very beginning, your family never saw me as one of your own."

"Leo, my mom really likes you."

"She likes me? She likes me so much that she helped you hide your marriage? She likes me so much that she wants me to wait like a fool?"

She had no words.

"Get out."

"Leo..."

"Get out!"

She sat there, refusing to budge.

I opened my door, walked around the front of the car, and pulled the passenger door wide open. "Get out of my car."

Only then did she step out, standing by the side of the road, staring at me.

"Leo, weve been together for five years. Our parents have met. How can you be this heartless?"

I didn't answer. I got back in, shut the door, and started the car.

She banged on the window from the outside, her mouth moving, but I couldn't hear a word she was saying.

In the rearview mirror, she chased the car for a few steps before being swallowed by the darkness of the night.

When I got back to my rented apartment, I stood at the door for a long time, unable to go in.

A sliver of light peeked through the crack beneath the doorI had forgotten to turn off the living room light before leaving.

I pushed the door open.

In the entryway stood her pink slippers. They were bought on a "buy-one-get-one-free" sale; mine were black.

On the coat rack hung the dress she had picked up from the dry cleaners last week, saying she had an important event to attend the next day.

On the coffee table sat a half-drunk cup of iced coffee she had left behind, right next to a magazine she had been reading.

On the sofa lay her favorite pink throw blanket. She always said it was the coziest thing to wrap herself in while watching TV.

On the bedroom nightstand were her skincare products, her hair clips, and her half-read romance novels.

Her traces were everywhere.

I sat on the sofa, staring at the warm floor lamp.

She had picked out the lampshade herself, saying the warm yellow glow made the place feel like a real home.

My phone vibrated.

It was a Snapchat message from her: "Hes leaving tomorrow. Once he goes back upstate, Ill come over and we can talk things through."

I stared at the screen for a long time.

Then, I tapped on her profile picture and blocked her.

Our entire chat history vanished.

Five years of "good morning" and "good night" texts, five years of "I miss you" and "I love you," five years of shared daily lifeall gone in a second.

I started packing her things.

Her clothes, her books, her skincare products, her hair clips, her toothbrush, and her towels.

I packed everything into two large suitcases.

By the time I finished, it was 3:00 AM. Half of the apartment was empty.

The floor lamp was still glowing.

Staring at the patterns on the lampshade, I remembered the day we went shopping at IKEA. She had said that when we finally bought our own house, she wanted to put tons of warm lights in the living room so we could adjust the brightness at night.

I had smiled and agreed, telling her I loved warm lighting too.

I stood up and turned off the lamp.

The room fell into complete darkness, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside.

The next day at noon, I was woken up by a loud knocking on the door.

I didn't know what time I had finally fallen asleep last night, and my phone had died and shut off.

The knocking became louder and more urgent.

I walked over and looked through the peephole.

It was her.

I decided to ignore her and turned to walk back to the bedroom, but the knocking started again.

"Leo! I know you're in there! Open the door!"

"If you don't open it, I'm not leaving!"

I stood behind the door, motionless.

"Mom, you talk to him."

A familiar voice echoed from outside.

I froze.

I opened the door slightly. She was standing there, with her mother right beside her, and her father standing a bit further back.

I had met her mother, Mrs. Peterson, many times.

Whenever I visited their house, she was always very polite to me. She used to say we should get married early so she could help take care of the kids while she was still young.

"Leo, sweetie, open the door. Let's have a chat."

I pulled the door open.

Mrs. Peterson walked in, looking around the living room. When her eyes landed on the suitcases stacked by the sofa, her lips curled down in disapproval.

"What is all of this? Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?"

Her husband stood at the door, refusing to come in, his face completely expressionless.

Mrs. Peterson sat down on the sofa and patted the space next to her. "Come on, Leo, sit down. Let's talk."

I stood my ground and didn't move.

"Why are you just standing there? Come, sit."

"If you have something to say, just say it here."

Mrs. Peterson paused, the fake smile slipping from her face. She glanced at her daughter, then looked back at me.

"Leo, look, what happened was wrong on our part. We should have told you beforehand. But think about ithow could we possibly bring something like this up? The other guy is extremely wealthy.

He has properties, luxury cars, and his family came directly to us. We couldn't just ignore an opportunity like that, could we?"

I listened, my heart turning cold.

"And besides," Mrs. Peterson continued, pausing for effect. "We can't put all the blame on Chloe. You need to think about your own financial situation..."

"The only reason she drank too much that night was because she was stressed out about how little money your family has. Don't you think so?"