When Chad meets Camille at university, he thinks he has found the love of his life. But later, after the couple get married and host Camille’s French parents for dinner, Chad’s friend Nolan uses his ability to understand French and eavesdrops on the dinner conversation… only to discover something horrible about Chad and Camille’s marriage.
I never thought that inviting Nolan to dinner would ruin my whole life. But that’s exactly what happened the night he helped me discover the truth about my wife, Camille.
We met at university, when Cami was a French exchange student studying International Politics, and I was finishing my degree in Business Administration. From the beginning there was something magnetic about her.
Camille was as French as they come, with an effortless charm and sophistication that I had never seen before. We spent hours talking about everything: culture, politics, food and life goals.
That instant connection was enough for me to quickly fall in love.
Our relationship blossomed quickly and we were inseparable. After graduating, we moved in together and ended up getting married. Camille’s parents were still living in France, and although I hadn’t learned much French, they would visit us twice a year.
And as always, while they would speak in their mother tongue during dinner, I would just smile and nod, picking up fragments.
Apart from the usual “mon chéri” or “merci”, French was still a mystery to me.
But things were getting frustrating.
“Go up and look under the bed. Trust me,” she whispered urgently.
After four days of family dinners in which I couldn’t participate in the conversation, I felt completely excluded.
“Maybe you should try harder, Chad,” Cami said to me one day as we sat outside soaking up the sun. ”I mean, I had to master English, and you’re reaping the rewards of that, right? So it’s time for you to really put in the effort if you feel left out.”
Look, I knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but it was hard not to feel isolated when everyone switched to French without thinking twice. So I thought that, when the time came for another family dinner, I would invite my friend Nolan.
He was my best friend and I needed someone to talk to while Camille and her parents chatted in French.
Nolan and I had known each other for a long time and, although we didn’t talk about it much, I knew he had studied French at high school. But I didn’t think he had retained enough to follow their rapid conversation.
I was about to find out how wrong I was.
We were all sitting at the table, eating bouillabaisse, a French dish that Camille’s parents loved. Nolan and I were chatting about work, casually discussing an audit we had pending, while Camille and her parents were chatting happily in French.
“I don’t think Liam is taking this audit seriously enough,” I said. ”I think there are some figures he needs to fix first…”
I was talking to Nolan, but he wasn’t looking at me or paying any attention to me. Instead, he was looking at his plate and frowning as if he were deeply concentrated.
It seemed strange to me, but I let it go. Maybe he was just thinking about Liam and crooked books.
But suddenly Nolan’s face changed. He turned pale and his hand gripped my arm tightly.
“Go up and look under the bed. Trust me,” he whispered urgently.
At first, I was very confused. I thought he was pulling my leg. But his eyes… they said something else.
Wide and serious.
My heart was beating faster and nausea took hold of my body. What had I stumbled upon?
I got up from the table, my heart pounding as I climbed the stairs. What could be under the bed?
My mind raced, thinking of all the mundane things that could be there. Really? A suitcase, specks of dust, Camille’s shoes or a secret stash of chocolate?
But nothing could have prepared me for what I found.
I bent down and took out a small black box. My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside were photos, dozens of them. Camille, almost naked, posing for someone else’s eyes. Beneath the photos were letters, carefully folded and addressed to a man named Benoit.
I flipped through them and read enough to understand what had been happening right under my nose. Camille had had an affair.
My heart beat faster and nausea took hold of my body. What had I stumbled upon?
When I understood the truth, everything went black.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. The sterile smell of disinfectant reached my nose and I realized that I was no longer at home. My throat was dry and I tried to speak, but only a squawk came out.
“You passed out in your room, mate,” Nolan said from the chair by my bed, his head resting on his hand.
“What happened, Chad? What did you find in there?” he asked.
It all came back to me in a flash. And, for a moment, I almost felt dizzy again.
The black box, the photos, the letters, the betrayal…
What the hell was Cami playing at? Who was the woman I had married? Who was this stranger who was in her place?
“You were taking a long time, so I went up to see how you were,” Nolan continued. ”I found you passed out, and then I saw the box. And the contents of the box… Look, I put it all inside, I put it under the bed and I called Camille. While she was examining you, I called the ambulance.”
“How did you know?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. ‘She did it so well. I never suspected a thing.”
“I overheard them,’ Nolan said. ”While we were eating, I picked up something your wife said in French. It was something about how she decided to hide everything under the bed. That’s why I told you to check it out.”
“And I took French all through high school, Chad,” he continued. ‘I understood enough to know that something was wrong. There was something suspicious about the way he said it. And his mother was almost excited by it all…”
I felt as if the world were spinning around me, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Where’s Camille?’ I asked after a moment.
“She’s downstairs. She’s having a coffee or something,” said Nolan. ”I told her I’d wait for you here.”
I let out a sigh, my mind racing.
Honestly, what now? How was I going to face Camille about all this? We had built a life together and now it seemed to be crumbling before my eyes.
The next day I was discharged and Nolan took me home. When I arrived, Camille was waiting for us, looking very worried.
She immediately started to look after me, making sure I had everything I needed: water, organic fruit and vegetable juice and even a plate of fresh fruit.
But despite all that effort, all I could think about was the black box under the bed.
That afternoon, while she was in the kitchen, I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t keep carrying this secret.
And why should I? Camille was the one who had been playing behind my back. Why should I keep quiet and let her get away with it?
“I can’t go on with our marriage,” I said abruptly, cutting the tension in the room like a knife.
“What are you talking about?“ asked Camille, her voice trembling.
“I know about the black box under the bed, Camille,” I replied firmly.
My wife’s face turned pale. She stood motionless for a moment before jumping up, panic reflected on her face.
“I can explain, Chad,” she said. ”Please listen to me.”
“I’ve seen more than enough, Camille,” I said. ‘Your explanation isn’t going to change anything.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“But it’s not what you think,’ she said. ”My parents arranged the meeting with Benoit. They wanted me to be with someone French. They thought it was important for me to have French children. And now they want grandchildren.”
I stared at her. Somehow the betrayal sank in even deeper. How did she expect me to sit here and listen to this?
“So what? Did you just go along with it?”
She nodded.
“I met him and… my God, Chad. We connected. But we weren’t supposed to go this far.”
“I want a divorce, now,” I said, in a cold, final voice.
Camille broke down, throwing accusations at me for snooping, for invading her privacy. She threatened not to sign the divorce papers, but I didn’t care anymore. There was no love left between us. Not after what I had discovered.
There was no trust either.
In the months that followed, the divorce was complicated. Camille contested everything.
And I mean absolutely everything.
She contested our house, she brought up the spousal support with a ridiculous amount she wanted me to pay her every month. She even tried to get me to pay for her trips to France.
Really? How stupid did she think I was?
I refused everything, except the house. I didn’t want it anymore. I moved into a bachelor flat, closer to work, and I’m trying to rebuild my life.
It still stings. Especially because I saw a whole future with Cami. I saw us moving into a house by the sea and having our own children. And now? All that life has completely vanished.
But you know what? At least I’m not living a lie any more. Nolan was by my side throughout the whole process, and I will always be grateful to him for his honesty.
Now I wonder if Camille ended up with Benoit or not. Maybe her parents finally got what they wanted.
But what about me? I’m free. And that’s enough. More than enough.