When I woke up on my birthday, I didn’t expect to wake up next to the wrong woman! Everything felt confusing that day, and I even got a hug from my wife’s friend’s children who called me their father! I thought I was going crazy until later that day when everything finally made sense.
I woke up to the faint sound of birds chirping, my face nestled into a pillow that smelled unfamiliar, like lavender and sandalwood. As I blinked sunlight streamed through a window I didn’t recognize. My heart skipped a beat as I turned my head and froze.
This wasn’t my bed. And lying next to me wasn’t my wife, Erica, but her BEST FRIEND, Eliza…
Panic coursed through me. “This has to be a dream,” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible.
I won’t lie, the worst thought also occurred to me, that I might’ve somehow cheated on my wife. But how could such a thing happen? I love Erica!
My mind raced through a fog of guilt and confusion. I stared at Eliza’s sleeping face, hoping for some sign that this was a mix-up, but nothing about the situation felt right. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to piece together how I’d gotten here.
At that moment, Eliza stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She smiled warmly when she saw I was awake, leaned over, and kissed me lightly on the forehead. “Happy birthday, darling!” she said with a content sigh.
“Darling?” I repeated, my voice cracking. I froze momentarily, then sat up abruptly, clutching the sheets as if they were my only tether to reality! I did recall that it was my birthday, but I couldn’t understand why Eliza would call me her “darling!”
“Eliza, what’s going on?”
She laughed softly.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Come on, Matt, don’t be weird, starting with your birthday shenanigans.
You’re getting older, not amnesia or forgetfulness. I’ll get started on breakfast.”
She slipped out of bed, grabbing a silk robe from a nearby chair. As she walked out of the room and down the stairs, I was left staring at the space she’d just vacated.
My gaze drifted to the nightstand, and that’s when I saw it: a framed photo of a wedding. My stomach dropped. But my bride wasn’t Erica.
It was ELIZA! “No, no, no,” I muttered, reaching for the picture. My hands trembled as I held it closer!
There I was, grinning like an idiot in a tuxedo, with Eliza in a white gown beside ME! I fumbled for my phone, hoping it could provide some answers. The lock screen was the same, thankfully, showing the same picture of me on my honeymoon in Maui.
Relief washed over me for a split second. At least this was still my phone. I scrolled through my contacts and dialed Erica’s number, which I had saved under “Sweetheart.”
As the line rang, I heard a faint buzzing sound from downstairs.
I started panicking. Then her voice answered. “Hi, darling!
Did you forget something? Or do you just miss me already? What should I make for breakfast?”
I couldn’t even respond!
My throat felt dry as I hung up abruptly. This was wrong, so wrong! Desperate, I checked the number I had dialed and realized it wasn’t my wife’s, so I called her using her memorized number.
After ringing a few times, Erica finally picked up. “Matt! Happy birthday!” she sang into the phone.
I felt relief again as I exclaimed, “Sweetheart! Oh, thank God it’s you!”
Then there was silence. A long, awkward silence.
“Sweetheart?” she finally responded, laughing. “Matt, did you mix something up after all the heavy drinking you did last night at your birthday pre-party? Your sweetheart’s probably making you breakfast right now.
Are you okay?”
Embarrassed, I hung up again, my hands trembling. I felt like I was LOSING my mind! Determined to get some answers, I stumbled out of the bedroom, down the stairs clutching the banister for support, and found two kids waiting for me: Eliza’s kids.
They ran up to me, hugging me tightly. “Happy birthday, Dad!” they shouted in unison. “Dad?” I whispered, looking down at their eager faces.
My knees threatened to buckle. I wasn’t their dad. I couldn’t be…
The smell of bacon and coffee filled the air.
Eliza was in the kitchen, humming a tune I vaguely recognized. Her kids ran and sat at the dining table, their faces lighting up as they looked at me. I forced a smile and tried pulling myself together.
“Thanks, kiddos,” I mumbled, my voice barely steady. Eliza placed a plate of pancakes in front of me, her face glowing with pride. “Your favorite,” she said, kissing my cheek.
I sat down, staring at the perfectly arranged table. Gifts were stacked neatly in the corner, wrapped in bright paper. Family photos lined the walls, each one featuring me, Eliza, and the kids.
In one, I was holding a toddler on my shoulders; in another, we were at the Grand Canyon, smiling as if this life had always been mine. I couldn’t eat. My stomach churned with unease.
After mumbling an excuse, I retreated to the bathroom and locked the door. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. I tried to rationalize everything happening, thinking maybe I’d hit my head.
But no amount of reasoning worked. I figured one other person could clarify things and know the truth, so I called my mother. “Happy birthday, Matt!” she greeted cheerfully.
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