A Texas Wife Found Out After 10 Years That Her Husband Used To Be A Woman & Shot Him Dead | HO!!

Tuesday passed as usual.

Macy Lester left the law firm at exactly 5:30 p.m., saying goodbye to her colleagues as always and neatly putting all her documents into folders.

The drive home took 20 minutes.

She drove along the familiar streets of Dallas, listening to soft music and thinking about what to cook for dinner.

In 10 years of marriage to Lewis, she had grown accustomed to the rhythm and predictability of their life together, and she was happy with it.

The house greeted her with silence.

Lewis hadn’t returned from the insurance company yet.

His workday usually ended an hour later.

Macy changed into her house clothes, tied her hair in a ponytail, and started cooking.

She decided to make roast chicken with vegetables.

Lewis liked simple, hearty meals.

While the chicken was frying in the pan, she chopped a salad, put rice on to cook, and set the table.

At 7:00, she heard the sound of keys in the lock.

Lewis entered the house calm and unruffled as always.

He kissed his wife on the cheek, asked how her day had been, and went to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Over dinner, they discussed the usual things: work plans for the weekend, the need to replace the broken faucet in the kitchen.

Lewis told her about a difficult client who couldn’t decide on an insurance policy, and Macy complained about a new intern who was always mixing up documents.

After dinner, they sat in the living room watching TV.

Lewis read the newspaper, commenting on the news from time to time, while Macy leafed through a magazine.

It was quiet and cozy as always.

Their relationship had long since settled into a calm routine.

No stormy passions, no surprises, just the measured family life of two people who were used to each other.

At 8:30, the doorbell rang.

Macy looked up from her magazine.

They weren’t expecting anyone.

Lewis also looked at the door in surprise.

“Who could that be?” she asked.

“No idea,” her husband replied.

But he got up and went to answer the door.

Standing on the doorstep was Macy’s mother, Gloria Lester.

She was holding a bag of groceries and smiling her usual warm smile.

“Mom,” Macy exclaimed in surprise.

“Didn’t you say you were coming?” I decided to surprise you, Gloria replied, walking into the house.

I bought your favorite cakes at the bakery on Main Street.

I thought we could spend the evening together.

Lewis helped his mother-in-law take off her coat, and the three of them went into the living room.

Gloria was an energetic woman of 58 who, after her husband’s death 5 years ago, had devoted herself entirely to her job at the bank and to caring for her daughter.

She visited Macy and Louie regularly and loved her son-in-law sincerely.

He was always polite to her, attentive, and never showed any irritation at her visits.

Macy made tea, and they sat down at the table in the living room.

Gloria talked about her colleagues at the bank, the new procedures that management had introduced, and a neighbor who had gotten a dog that barked too loudly.

Louie listened politely, asking questions from time to time, while Macy enjoyed the warm family atmosphere.

How are things with you? Gloria asked, cutting a piece of cake.

When are you finally going to give me grandchildren? Macy was slightly embarrassed.

Her mother had been asking her this question regularly for the past few years.

She and Louie weren’t planning on having children anytime soon, although they weren’t taking any special precautions.

It just hadn’t happened, and they weren’t pushing it.

Mom, why are you bringing this up again? Macy said.

When the time is right, it’ll happen.

You’re not a little girl anymore, dear.

You’re 35.

You shouldn’t put it off for too long.

Lewis diplomatically changed the subject, and the evening continued with pleasant conversation.

Gloria left around 10:00, leaving behind a feeling of warmth and comfort.

Macy and Louis cleared the dishes, watched some more TV, and went to bed.

The next day, Macy woke up at her usual time, 6:00 in the morning.

Louie was already in the shower getting ready for work.

She went down to the kitchen and made breakfast, eggs and bacon with coffee.

They ate breakfast in silence, each thinking about the day ahead.

At 7:30, Louie left for work, and Macy began to get ready.

As she left the house at 8:00 a.m., she noticed a white envelope on the steps of the porch.

It lay there neatly, as if someone had deliberately placed it there so that it would be noticed.

There was no writing on the envelope, no name, no address.

Macy picked it up and turned it over in her hands.

It was an ordinary envelope, white and fairly thick.

She put it in her purse and drove to work.

The envelope lay in her bag all day, and she thought about it from time to time, but couldn’t bring herself to open it at the office.

Something told her that the contents might be unpleasant, and she decided to wait until she got home.

In the evening, when Louis hadn’t come home yet, Macy finally opened the envelope.

Inside was a color photograph and a folded piece of paper.

She looked at the photo first and literally froze.

The photo showed a young black woman of about 25.

She had short curly hair and was smiling at the camera, standing next to some kind of building.

The woman was quite attractive with regular features and expressive eyes.

But what struck Macy most was the incredible resemblance between this stranger and her husband.

The same eyes, the same shape of the lips.

Even the smile was similar.

It was as if someone had taken a photograph of Louiswis and superimposed female features on it.

With trembling hands, Macy unfolded the note.

The handwriting was neat and printed.

Your husband is not who he claims to be.

If you want to know the truth about who he was before, call this number.

Don’t say anything to him until you know the whole truth.

Below was a phone number with a Dallas area code.

Macy sank down onto the sofa, still holding the photo.

Her heart was beating so loudly that she could hear it pounding in her chest.

Her thoughts were jumbled, and she couldn’t understand what it all meant.

Who was this woman? Why did she look so much like Louie? And what truth did the author of the note mean? She reread the message several times, staring at the photo, trying to find some kind of clue.

But the picture said nothing, just a young woman smiling at the camera.

There was no date, but judging by the quality of the photo and the woman’s clothes, it looked like it had been taken about 15 years ago.

When Louis returned home, Macy had already hidden the envelope in her desk drawer.

She couldn’t decide whether to show him the photo and note right away or find out what it all meant first.

The author of the message had specifically warned her not to tell her husband anything, and that warning seemed ominous.

At dinner, Louie was his usual self.

Calm, talking about work, asking about her day.

Macy tried to act normal, but she kept catching herself staring at his face, trying to find a resemblance to the woman in the photo.

Indeed, if you looked closely, there was a certain similarity, especially the eyes and the shape of the nose.

“You’re acting strange today,” Louis remarked as they washed the dishes.

“Did something happened at work?” “No, everything’s fine,” Macy replied quickly.

“I’m just a little tired.” The rest of the evening passed as usual, but Macy couldn’t concentrate on anything.

She couldn’t get the photograph and the note out of her head.

When they went to bed, she lay awake for a long time, listening to her husband’s steady breathing, and thinking about what to do next.

The next day at work, Macy couldn’t concentrate.

She went through the motions of her duties, answering phone calls, typing documents, scheduling clients for appointments with lawyers.

But her thoughts kept returning to the mysterious envelope.

During her lunch break, she called Britney Archer, her best friend since college.

Britney worked as a teacher at a nearby elementary school and they often met for lunch or just called each other to chat.

“Hi, friend,” Britney answered cheerfully.

“How are you?” “Long time no talk.” “Listen, can you meet up after work today?” Macy asked, trying to sound casual.

“I need to discuss something.” “Sure.

What’s going on? You sound worried.

I’d rather talk about it in person.

See you at the cafe on Elm Street at 6:00.” Okay, I’ll be there.

The rest of the workday dragged on endlessly.

Macy took the envelope out of her purse several times, rereading the note and staring at the photo.

The resemblance to her husband was striking, and it frightened her more and more.

At 6:00 in the evening, she sat in a cozy cafe on Elm Street, nervously stirring her coffee.

Britney arrived 10 minutes later, a short, energetic woman with short hair and kind eyes.

They had been friends for over 15 years, and Macy trusted her more than anyone else.

“Tell me what happened,” Britney said, sitting down at the table.

“You don’t look well.” Macy silently took out the envelope and handed her friend the photograph.

Brittany studied the picture closely and frowned.

“Who is this?” she asked.

“She looks like Lewis, but it’s a woman.” I found this envelope on my doorstep yesterday, Macy said quietly and handed her the note.

Brittany read the message and her face became serious.

Macy, this is someone’s cruel joke, she said finally.

Someone’s trying to ruin your life.

Maybe Louis has enemies at work or one of his exes.

I don’t know, Macy admitted.

He never had any enemies.

He’s so calm.

He never gets into fights with anyone.

What are you going to do? Show him the photo? I’m afraid to.

The note said not to tell him.

What if there’s some truth to it that he’s hiding? Britney thoughtfully turned the photo over in her hands.

The resemblance is striking, she admitted.

But there are doppelgangers.

Maybe it’s just a coincidence.

Maybe not, Maisie said quietly.

I’ve been thinking about it all night.

Lewis and I have known each other for 11 years and been married for 10, but I know practically nothing about his life before we met.

He said he grew up in Houston and that his parents died when he was young.

I’ve never seen any photos of him as a child or teenager.

He said he lost them when he moved.

Macy, you’re being paranoid, Britney said gently.

A lot of people don’t like to dig up the past.

That’s normal.

But what if it’s not? Macy leaned closer to her friend.

What if he’s really hiding something? There’s a phone number on the note.

Someone wants to tell me something.

And you’re going to call? I don’t know.

I’m scared.

What if it’s true? Britney was silent for a long time thinking about the situation.

Listen, she said finally, if you really want to know the truth, then call him, but be prepared for any outcome.

Maybe there really is something Louis doesn’t want to talk about, and it could be anything, and not necessarily something bad.

I can’t live with these doubts, Macy admitted.

If I don’t find out what this all means, I’ll go crazy.

They sat in the cafe for another hour discussing the situation.

Britney suggested talking to Louiswis directly first, showing him the photo and seeing how he reacted.

But Macy was afraid.

What if he started lying or worse, got angry at her for not trusting him? When they parted, Macy’s mind was a mess.

She drove home, clutching the envelope with the photo in her hand.

Feeling a growing sense of anxiety inside, whatever Lou was hiding, she had to know.

They were husband and wife.

There should be no secrets between them.

Lewis was already preparing dinner at home.

He smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek as always.

But now Macy looked at him with different eyes, studying every line of his face, every gesture.

The resemblance to the woman in the photograph seemed increasingly obvious to her.

She was quiet during dinner, answering questions with one-word answers.

Louie tried several times to strike up a conversation, but sensing that his wife was not in the mood, he did not insist.

That evening, as they watched television, Macy surreptitiously studied her husband’s profile.

Yes, there was definitely something feminine about his features, but some men just look softer.

That’s normal, right? Before going to sleep, she lay in bed listening to Louis brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

The usual sounds familiar after 10 years of living together.

But now everything seemed wrong, fake.

It was as if she had been living with a stranger all these years.

Macy spent a sleepless night tossing and turning in bed, listening to her husband’s quiet breathing.

By morning, she had made up her mind.

She had to call the number on the note.

The uncertainty tormented her more than any truth, no matter how terrible it might be.

At work, she waited for her lunch break and went outside.

With trembling fingers, she dialed the number, her heart beating so loudly that she was afraid she wouldn’t hear the answer.

“Hello?” a man’s voice answered.

“Hello,” Macy began, trying to sound calm.

“I found your number in an envelope.

You wrote about my husband, Louis Lester.” There was a pause on the other end of the line.

Then the man said, “I see.

So, you’ve decided to find out the truth? My name is Bryce Grayson.

Can we meet and talk? Yes, Macy replied, though her voice betrayed her trembling.

Today at 7:00 p.m.

at the Blue Moon Cafe on Oakland Avenue.

Do you know where that is? I’ll find it.

I’ll be wearing a black shirt, sitting in my usual spot in the far corner.

Come alone and don’t tell anyone about our meeting, especially Louis.

Macy hung up and felt her legs buckle beneath her.

Something told her that after this meeting, her life would change forever.

The rest of the workday passed in a fog.

She went through the motions of her duties, but her mind was elsewhere.

Her co-workers asked her several times if she was okay, but she responded distractedly, and eventually the senior partner, Mr.

Patterson, asked if she was feeling ill.

At 6, Macy parked her car near the Blue Moon Cafe.

It was a small establishment in a less than desirable neighborhood of Dallas where she had never been before.

Inside, it was dimly lit.

Quiet music was playing and there were few customers.

She looked around and saw a man in a black shirt in the far corner.

He was sitting with his back to the entrance, but when she got closer, he turned around.

Bryce Grayson was a black man in his late 30s with a strong build, short hair, and attentive dark eyes.

His face bore the mark of some hidden bitterness, and his eyes showed the weariness of a man who had been through a lot.

“Macy Lester,” he asked, rising from his seat.

“Yes, that’s me.

Please sit down,” he said, pointing to a chair opposite him.

“What would you like to drink?” “Coffee,” she replied, although her throat was dry with excitement.

Bryce called the waitress and ordered two coffees.

Then he looked closely at Macy.

“You received a photograph,” he said.

“And you decided to find out the truth.” “Who is this woman?” Macy asked immediately.

“Why does she look so much like my husband?” Bryce slowly took another photograph from his jacket’s inside pocket and placed it on the table.

“It was the same photograph that had been in the envelope, but larger and of better quality.” “This is your husband,” he said calmly.

15 years ago.

Back then, his name was Louise Morgan.

Macy felt the world spinning around her.

She grabbed the edge of the table, trying to steady herself.

“What are you saying?” she whispered.

“Your husband was born a woman,” Bryce continued, never taking his eyes off her.

“We dated for 3 years from 2005 to 2008.

Back then, he she was a completely different person.

The waitress brought coffee, but Macy didn’t touch her cup.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the photo.

“Tell me everything,” she said quietly.

Bryce leaned back in his chair as if gathering his thoughts.

“We met in Houston in 2005.

I was 23.

She was 25.

She worked in a beauty salon and was a very beautiful girl, bright, cheerful, full of life, not at all like the quiet man your husband has become.” He took a sip of coffee, his face darkening with memories.

We fell in love at first sight.

At least that’s how it seemed to me.

We were together for 3 years, making plans for the future.

I wanted to marry her.

I had already bought a ring.

And then everything changed.

“What happened?” asked Macy.

Although she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

In 2007, she started acting strangely.

She became withdrawn, avoided intimacy, and was constantly thinking about something.

I thought she was having problems at work or with her health.

I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t say anything.

And then I found out the truth.

Bryce clenched his fists, and Macy saw the muscles in his arms tense.

She was seeing another man secretly behind my back.

I saw them together by accident when I was coming home from work.

They were kissing by his car, and the way she looked at him, I knew I’d lost her forever.

She cheated on you? Macy felt a strange sense of relief.

Maybe it was just that, an old love affair and not something more terrible.

Yes.

Bryce smiled bitterly.

But that was only the beginning.

When I demanded an explanation, she said she didn’t love me anymore, that she had found someone else.

We broke up and I couldn’t get over it for a long time.

3 years of my life, all my plans for the future, everything collapsed in an instant.

He paused, staring out the cafe window.

But the most interesting part came later.

A year after we broke up, I ran into a mutual acquaintance.

She told me something incredible.

Louise had decided to change her gender.

She moved to Europe, had surgery, hormone therapy, everything she needed.

She came back a man.

Macy felt the room spinning around her.

She grabbed her coffee cup trying to find something to hold on to.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered.

It’s entirely possible, Bryce said harshly.

Modern medicine works wonders.

Louise became Lewis, moved to Dallas, got a job.

He started a new life as if the past had never existed.

But why? Why did he she do it? Bryce shrugged.

I don’t know.

Maybe he always felt like a man in a woman’s body.

Maybe he decided to radically change his life.

Or maybe he just wanted to hide from his past, from me, from everyone who knew him before.

Macy was silent, trying to comprehend what she had heard.

All these years, she had lived with a man who had hidden the most important thing about himself from her.

Their marriage, their intimacy, their entire relationship had been built on a lie.

“How do you know that’s true?” she finally asked.

“Maybe your friend was mistaken.” Bryce took out his phone, found something in his gallery, and showed her the screen.

There were two people in the photo, a young woman and him, about 10 years younger.

The woman was the same as the one in the photo from the envelope, only in different clothes and with a different hairstyle.

That’s us at a picnic in 2006, he said.

A year before she cheated on me.

Look closely at her face and compare it to your husband’s.

Macy stared at the phone screen.

The resemblance was undeniable.

The same eyes, the same nose, the same shape of her lips.

Even the smile was exactly the same as the one she had seen on Louiswis’s face a thousand times.

“Why are you telling me all this?” she asked.

“What do you want?” Bryce’s face hardened.

“Justice,” he said.

“I’ve lived with this pain for 15 years.

She broke my heart, betrayed our relationship, and then just disappeared as if she never existed.

She started a new life, got married, and is living happily.

and I’ve never been able to build a normal relationship with anyone else and you decided to take revenge.

I found out about your existence by accident.

Bryce continued, “A year ago, I met the guy she cheated on me with.

He told me that Louise had become Louis and gotten married.

I found you tracked down where you live.

I thought long and hard about what to do.” Macy felt anger rising inside her.

This man had been following her, invading her privacy, destroying her family for the sake of his own revenge.

“You had no right,” she said.

“This is our life, our marriage, and he had the right to build his happiness on a lie,” Bryce replied sharply.

“Did you know who you were marrying? Did you know that your husband was born a woman? That he had lived his entire life in the wrong body?” Macy was silent.

She couldn’t deny it.

I don’t want to destroy your marriage,” Bryce said more softly.

“But you have a right to know the truth.

If you can accept it and move on, that’s up to you.

But it’s not fair to hide something like this from your wife.” They sat in silence for several minutes.

Macy tried to collect her thoughts and figure out what to do next.

Her whole life had been turned upside down in the space of half an hour.

“Do you have any other proof?” she asked.

Bryce nodded and took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

This is a medical certificate from the clinic in Germany where she had the operation.

A friend of mine works for a private detective agency and helped me get the documents.

It shows her real name, Louise Morgan, and the date of the operation, March 2009.

Macy took the document with trembling hands.

The text was in German, but she understood some of the words.

The name was indeed listed as Louise Morgan.

And the procedure section contained medical terms that clearly referred to gender reassignment surgery.

It could be fake, she said weakly, though she no longer believed her own words.

Maybe, Bryce agreed.

But you see the photos.

You know your husband.

Didn’t you ever wonder? Macy thought about it.

Indeed, some things now seemed strange.

Lewis never talked about his childhood in detail.

never showed old photos.

He had no childhood friends, no classmates, no one from his past, from his He explained that his parents had died when he was young and he preferred not to think about that time.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Talk to him,” Bryce replied.

“Demand the truth.

See how he reacts.

If he’s an honest man, he’ll confess.

If not, then your marriage really is built on a lie.” Macy stood up from the table.

She felt drained as if all the blood had been sucked out of her.

“I have to go,” she said.

“Wait.” Bryce handed her his business card.

“If you want to talk more or find out more, call me.

I understand how hard this is for you.” Macy took the card and left the cafe without looking back.

It was cool outside, but she didn’t feel cold.

Bryce’s words echoed in her head, and the photos flashed before her eyes.

Had she really lived all these years with a man who had completely deceived her? The drive home was a blur.

She almost broke the rules several times, but somehow made it home in one piece.

Louiswis’s car was parked at the curb.

He was already home from work.

Macy sat in the car for another 10 minutes, gathering her courage.

How was she going to look him in the eye now? How would she talk to him? Pretend that nothing had changed.

Finally, she entered the house.

Lewis was in the kitchen cooking dinner.

He turned and smiled at her as always.

Hi, honey.

How was your day? Macy looked at his face and saw things she hadn’t noticed before.

Yes, his features were soft, almost feminine.

His hands were also delicate with long fingers.

Even his voice wasn’t very deep for a man.

“Fine,” she replied and went into the living room.

She hardly spoke during dinner.

Lewis tried several times to strike up a conversation, but only received one-word answers.

Finally, he asked, “Macy, what’s wrong?” “You look upset.” “Nothing much, just tired.

Maybe we should go somewhere this weekend.

We haven’t gone anywhere in a while.

We’ll see.” After dinner, they sat in the living room watching television.

Macy fertively studied her husband’s profile, trying to find the features of the woman in the photograph.

The more she looked, the more similarities she noticed.

Louisis, she said suddenly, unable to remain silent any longer.

“Yes, tell me about your life before we met.” Louie looked at her in surprise.

“What exactly? You know, growing up in Houston, my parents died early.

I worked in different places until I got a job at an insurance company.

What about your friends? Girls, you had a life before me.” Louie paused, his face tensing.

Why do you want to know? The past is the past.

The present is what matters.

I’m curious.

In 10 years of marriage, you’ve told me practically nothing about that time.

Because I don’t like to think about it.

It was a difficult time.

My parents died in a car accident when I was 23.

I was left all alone, scraping by with odd jobs.

I don’t want to think about it.

Macy got up and went into the bedroom.

She took an envelope with a photograph out of the desk drawer and returned to the living room.

Lewis was still sitting on the sofa, flipping through the channels.

“Lewis,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Look at this.” She handed him the photograph.

Louie took it and frowned, studying the picture closely.

“Where did you get this?” he asked.

“And who is this?” “You don’t know who this is?” Louie looked at the photograph again and shook his head.

I’ve never seen this woman before.

Although he paused.

There is a resemblance to me.

Perhaps a distant relative, but I don’t remember anyone in my family with that face.

Louie.

Macy sat down across from him.

I met someone today who claims to know you.

Who? He asked surprised.

Bryce Grayson.

He says you met 15 years ago.

Lewis frowned clearly trying to remember.

Bryce Grayson.

He repeated.

I’ve never heard that name before.

Who is he? He claims that you were a woman and that this is your photo.

Macy watched her husband’s reaction closely.

Lewis looked up sharply and stared at her in amazement.

What? He even laughed.

Macy, are you serious? I was a woman.

That’s complete nonsense.

He told me in great detail about your relationship, how you cheated on him, about the sex reassignment surgery in Germany.

Louis stood up from the sofa, his face expressing sincere bewilderment.

Macy, do you understand what you’re saying? That’s impossible.

Look at me.

I’m a man.

I always have been.

But the resemblance in the photo, similarities can be coincidental, he interrupted.

There are many people in the world who look alike.

That doesn’t mean they’re the same person.

Macy took the medical certificate Bryce had given her out of her purse.

“What’s this?” she asked, showing him the document.

Lewis took the certificate and studied it carefully.

It’s a forgery, he said categorically.

A very crude forgery.

Look for yourself.

It says Louis Morgan.

My last name has always been Lester, not Morgan, and I’ve never been to Germany.

But Bryce showed me other photos.

Macy.

Lewis sat down next to his wife and took her hands.

Someone is trying to destroy our family.

This Bryce, whoever he is, is lying to you.

Maybe he’s mentally ill.

Maybe he has some other motive.

But this is all nonsense.

Then explain how he got your photo.

That’s not my photo, Lewis exclaimed.

It’s a photo of some woman who looks like me.

He probably looked for someone with my face on purpose to create this lie.

Macy moved away from her husband.

Are you denying everything? Of course I do, because it’s a lie from start to finish.

Louise spoke excitedly but sincerely.

Macy, we’ve been married for 10 years.

You know me.

Are you really going to believe some stranger more than your own husband? But why would he lie? What does he get out of it? I don’t know.

Lewis spread his arms.

Maybe he’s a psychopath.

Maybe someone is paying him to destroy our marriage.

Maybe he’s fallen in love with you and wants to break us up.

There could be a thousand reasons.

Macy was silent, thinking over her husband’s words.

Indeed, his reaction seemed sincere.

He wasn’t nervous.

He didn’t try to avoid the subject.

He answered all her questions directly.

“Macy,” Louisis said gently, “if you have doubts about me.

Let’s figure this out together.

We can go to the police and report this Bryce for slander.

We can hire a private investigator to check his background.” “Would you agree to that?” Of course, he replied without hesitation.

I have nothing to hide.

I’m willing to undergo any investigation to prove to you that this man is lying.

Macy felt confused.

Her husband seemed completely sincere, and his explanations sounded logical, but Bryce’s words also seemed convincing, and the photos were very similar.

“I don’t know who to believe,” she admitted.

“Trust me,” Lewis asked.

Trust your husband whom you’ve known for 10 years, not some stranger who appeared out of nowhere with unbelievable stories.

I need time to think,” Macy said and got up from the couch.

“Of course,” Louie agreed.

“But remember, no matter what this Bryce says, I love you and I’ve never lied to you.” Macy went to her bedroom, but couldn’t fall asleep for a long time.

Conflicting thoughts swirled in her head.

On the one hand, Bryce’s story was very detailed and convincing.

On the other hand, Louis’s reaction seemed completely sincere.

The next day at work, she called Britney again and told her about her conversation with her husband.

“He denies everything,” said Macy.

“He says it’s a forged document and a coincidence that the photos look alike.” “How did he explain that?” “Very convincingly.” “Hm,” Britney thought.

I thought so, too.

Maybe this Bryce guy is really lying.

I don’t know.

It’s a very confusing story.

Another week had passed since Macy met Bryce Grayson.

Despite all of Louiswis’s denials and assurances, she couldn’t shake her doubts.

The atmosphere in the house was tense.

They lived like strangers.

He on the couch in the living room, she in the bedroom.

Lewis continued to insist on his innocence and suggested hiring a detective.

But Macy felt that he was just a very skilled liar.

Every day she looked at her husband and saw the features of the woman in the photograph.

Every gesture, every word seemed false to her.

There were too many coincidences in Bryce’s story.

The evidence was too convincing.

Macy didn’t believe that anyone could have created such an elaborate lie just for revenge.

On Friday evening, she sat in her car near her house for a long time, unable to bring herself to go inside.

She couldn’t go on living like this.

Lewis stubbornly denied the truth, but she knew that sooner or later he would have to confess.

She had to make him tell the truth no matter what it took.

Instead of going home, she drove to the city center to a neighborhood she had never been to before.

Here, near an old factory that had been closed down several years ago, various shady characters gathered.

Macy remembered her co-workers talking about this place.

It was where you could find people willing to do anything for money.

She parked near an abandoned building and got out of the car.

It was already dark and the street lights cast a dim light on the street.

Two young men were standing near the entrance to an underground passageway, both black, about 25 years old, dressed in sportsware and sneakers.

They were smoking and talking quietly about something.

Macy approached them, her heart pounding with fear and determination.

“Excuse me,” she said, trying to sound confident.

“I need help.” The men looked at her in surprise.

A middle-aged woman in a business suit clearly didn’t fit in here.

“What kind of help?” asked one of them, a tall, thin man.

“I need someone to make someone tell the truth,” Macy said, taking several bills out of her purse.

“I’ll pay you.” The second guy, who was stockier, looked at the money with interest.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

“I have a problem with my husband.

He denies something I know for sure.

He’s hiding important things about his past from me.

I need you to scare him to make him finally admit the truth.

How much will you pay? Asked the tall one bluntly.

$500, said Macy.

He denies everything, but I know he’s lying.

I need to make him confess.

The guys looked at each other.

We won’t kill him, said the stocky one.

Just talk to him like a man.

Hit him a couple of times if you have to.

That’s enough, agreed Macy.

He has to admit that he’s hiding the truth about his past from me.

Where are we going to do this? At our place.

He should be home from work around 7:00 tonight.

The tall guy introduced himself as Kevin and the stocky one as Jamal.

They agreed to meet near Macy’s house at 6.

She gave them the address and an advance of $200, promising to pay the rest after the job was done.

On the way home, Macy thought about what she was doing.

Part of her knew it was crazy to hire strangers to intimidate her own husband, but she was sure that Louis was lying about his past.

Bryce couldn’t have made up such a detailed story, and the evidence seemed too convincing.

Macy wanted to hear the truth from Louiswis himself, wanted to see him finally admit that he had been lying.

Louisie wasn’t home yet.

Macy went into the bedroom and opened the drawer where Lewis kept his gun.

It was a small revolver he had bought a few years ago to protect the house.

Macy had never used it, but she knew where it was.

She took the gun in her hands and checked the cylinder.

There were six bullets.

Macy didn’t plan to use it.

She just wanted to be ready for anything.

If Louis turned out to be dangerous or tried to escape, at 6, Kevin and Jamal arrived at the house.

They parked in the next block and walked over to Macy’s house.

She let them in and explained the plan.

When Lewis returned, they would grab him and force him to finally admit that he was really a woman and had been lying to her all these years.

“What if he resists?” Kevin asked.

“Do whatever you have to,” Macy replied.

“The main thing is that he stops lying and tells the truth.” At 7:00 in the evening, they heard the sound of a car.

Louisie was parking near the house.

Macy nodded to the guys and they hid in the hallway behind the open living room door.

Lewis entered the house, hung his jacket on the coat rack as usual, and headed for the kitchen.

Macy sat on the sofa in the living room, pretending to read a magazine.

“Hi,” he said cautiously.

Their relationship was so cold that he was afraid to speak to his wife.

“Hi,” she replied without looking up from the magazine.

Louie went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

At that moment, Kevin and Jamal jumped out from behind the door and grabbed him.

Lewis cried out in surprise and tried to break free, but the boys were stronger.

“What’s going on?” he shouted.

“Macy, call the police.” “Be quiet,” Jamal said, twisting his arms behind his back.

“And don’t call anyone.” Kevin punched Lewis in the stomach, and he doubled over, gasping for air.

“Macy,” he moaned.

“What does this mean?” Macy got up from the couch and came closer.

Her face was cold and determined.

It means you’re going to tell me the whole truth, she said.

You’re going to stop lying and denying the obvious.

I already told you.

Louis tried to break free, but the guys held him tight.

I don’t know this, Bryce.

I’ve never been a woman.

You know, Macy said coldly.

You did.

I can hear the lies.

Now you’re going to tell me the truth about who you were before.

Kevin hit Louis again, this time in the ribs.

He groaned in pain.

Tell the truth, Jamal ordered.

Stop lying to a woman.

Macy, why are you doing this? Louie looked at his wife with pain and confusion.

I’m not lying.

That Bryce deceived you.

Bryce showed me photos, documents, Macy exploded.

There’s too much evidence for it to be a lie, and you continue to deny it because it’s complete nonsense.

Lewis shouted.

I’m a man.

I always have been.

Jamal squeezed his hands tighter, and Louie cried out in pain.

Macy, please believe me, he begged.

I’m your husband.

We’ve been together for 10 years.

10 years of lies.

Macy came very close, her face contorted with rage.

All these years you’ve been lying to me, pretending to be someone you’re not.

I wasn’t pretending, Louie cried through his tears.

I love you.

I’ve always loved you.

Kevin hit him again harder.

Louie coughed up blood.

Tell the truth or it’ll be worse.

Jamal threatened.

What truth? Louis croked.

I’m telling the truth.

I don’t know what you want from me.

Macy saw that he was stubbornly continuing to deny it.

And she felt an uncontrollable rage rising inside her.

Even under threat of physical violence, he continued to lie to her face.

“Last time,” she said slowly.

“Were you a woman? Did you date Bryce Grayson? Did you have sex reassignment surgery? Lewis looked at her with eyes full of pain and despair.

No, he whispered.

No, no, and no.

Then explain the photos.

Explain the resemblance.

I can’t explain something I don’t understand, Louisie shouted.

Maybe I have a twin sister I don’t know about.

Maybe someone faked the photos, but I wasn’t a woman.

Kevin raised his hand to strike again, but Lewis suddenly broke down.

Fine, he cried.

Okay, yes, it’s true.

Yes, I was a woman.

Yes, I dated Bryce.

Are you happy now? Macy froze.

He had finally confessed.

Go on, she said quietly.

My name was Louise Morgan, Lewis said through his tears.

I dated Bryce for 3 years, then I cheated on him and we broke up.

I had surgery in Germany and became a man.

I moved to Dallas and started a new life.

Why did you hide this from me? Because I was afraid of losing you, Lewis cried.

Because I wanted to forget the past.

I always felt like a man.

The surgery just corrected nature’s mistake.

What about our marriage? Our intimacy? You lied to me all this time.

I didn’t lie about what was important, he shouted.

I loved you.

I still do.

My birth gender doesn’t change my feelings.

Macy felt a wave of uncontrollable rage rising inside her.

He had confessed, but he continued to justify himself, not understanding the magnitude of his betrayal.

You stole 10 years of my life,” she screamed.

I could have met a real man, had children, been happy.

“You were happy with me,” Louie retorted.

“We’ve been happy all these years.

I was happy with a lie.

With who you pretended to be?” When the guys saw that the confession had been made, they began to get nervous.

“Well, he confessed,” Kevin said.

“Our work is done.

Give us the rest of the money and we’ll leave.” Don’t let him go, Macy ordered.

Hold him tight.

“Hey lady, we agreed to just make him talk,” Jamal said anxiously.

Macy didn’t answer.

She went into the bedroom and got a revolver.

When she returned with the gun in her hand, the guy’s faces changed.

“Hey, we didn’t sign up for this,” Kevin shouted.

“Hold him!” Macy repeated, raising the gun.

Lewis saw the gun and tried to break free with redoubled strength.

“Macy, don’t do it,” he begged.

I’m begging you.

We can fix this.

Fix it? She pointed the gun at his head.

Fix 10 years of lies.

Macy, think about what you’re doing, Louie cried.

I love you.

You don’t know what love is, she said coldly.

Love is honesty.

All you know is how to lie.

Hey, we’re leaving, Kevin said, trying to let go of Lewis.

This isn’t our business anymore.

Don’t let him go, Macy shouted.

The boys looked at each other, but their fear of the armed woman made them continue to hold the captive.

Macy, I beg you, whispered Lewis.

Think about what you’re doing.

You’re not a murderer.

No, she agreed.

But you made me a murderer.

Please.

Macy looked into the eyes of the man she had considered her husband all these years.

She saw fear, pain, and remorse.

But it was too late.

The betrayal was too deep, the wound too painful.

“Goodbye, Louisis,” she said, and pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out deafeningly in the silence of the house.

Louie instantly went limp in the men’s arms, his head falling back.

Blood spattered the wall behind him.

Kevin and Jamal dropped the body and jumped aside.

Their faces were frozen in shock.

“You killed him!” Jamal screamed.

You really killed him.

Macy stood with the gun in her hand, staring at the motionless body of her ex-husband.

She felt a strange emptiness.

No satisfaction, no remorse, just emptiness.

We didn’t sign up for this.

Kevin grabbed Jamal by the arm.

We have to get out of here.

What about the money? Jamal asked.

What money? Kevin exclaimed.

She killed a man.

We’ll go to jail as accompllices.

The men rushed to the exit without looking back.

A few seconds later, the front door slammed.

Then a car started and the sound of the engine faded into the night.

Macy was left alone with the body.

She lowered the gun and slowly sank to the sofa.

Only now did it begin to sink in what she had done.

She had killed a man.

She had killed the husband she had lived with for 10 years.

She sat in silence, staring at Louiswis’s motionless body.

Blood slowly spread across the floor, staining the carpet.

She had to do something.

Call the police.

Call an ambulance, but she couldn’t move.

Finally, Macy picked up the phone and dialed Britney’s number.

Her friend answered after the third ring.

Hi, Macy.

How are you? Brittney, Macy said quietly.

I killed Louie.

There was silence on the other end of the line.

What did you say? I killed him.

I shot him.

He’s dead.

Macy, you’re not joking.

Number.

He’s lying here in the living room.

I shot him in the head.

He confessed.

He said he was really a woman and had been dating Bryce.

He lied to me all these years.

Britney was silent for a few seconds, then spoke quickly and nervously.

Listen to me carefully.

Call the police right now.

Tell them he attacked you, that you were defending yourself.

But that’s not true.

Macy, do you realize what you’ve done? You’ll go to prison for the rest of your life.

I don’t care.

Macy replied indifferently.

He ruined my life.

Now it’s my turn to ruin his.

He’s already dead.

Britney screamed.

Now think about yourself.

Macy hung up the phone.

She didn’t want to talk to anyone else, plan anything, or think of anything else.

What was done was done.

She picked up the home phone and dialed the police.

Emergency services, said the operator.

I killed my husband, said Macy calmly.

come to the address.

She gave the address and hung up.

Now all she had to do was wait.

Macy got up from the sofa and went to the window.

It was a normal Friday night outside.

A few people walking by, lights in the windows of neighboring houses.

Life went on as if nothing had happened.

And in her living room lay a dead man whom she had loved and hated at the same time.

10 minutes later, police cars pulled up outside the house.

Red and blue lights danced across the living room walls.

Macy opened the door and walked out toward the police with her hands up.

“I killed my husband,” she said to the first officer who approached her.

“The gun is on the couch in the living room.” She was immediately handcuffed and taken to the car.

As they drove past the neighboring houses, Macy saw curious faces in the windows.

“Tomorrow, the whole neighborhood would be talking about what had happened.” In the police car, Macy closed her eyes and tried to understand what she was feeling.

Remorse, regret, relief? She didn’t know.

The only thing that was clear was that her old life had ended the moment she pulled the trigger.

Now, a completely different story was beginning.

And in the empty house, lying in a pool of blood, was a man who had long denied the truth, but had finally confessed to a deception that had lasted 10 years.

He wanted only one thing, to preserve his love by hiding his past.