My name is Nick. As I was driving home from a three-day work trip, I looked forward to nothing more than kicking off my shoes and enjoying my wife’s fried chicken. It was the dish I had been craving since I left home.

The drive back to our quiet little town was uneventful, and my mind was ticking off a mental checklist of things to do by the weekend. Finish a work project, schedule a meeting with new investors, and check in with a few junior workers who had their performance reviews coming up.

As I passed by Kate’s Diner, a familiar sight in our town, I noticed the big sign out front. Kate, my wife, runs the diner and she’s known for her quirky messages like “Best Burgers in Town” or “Try our Famous Pancakes!”

But today? I almost drove into a telephone pole when I saw the message on the sign.

Nick, I know what you did. Don’t bother coming home. – Kate.

I slammed on the brakes and stared at the sign, thinking surely I was seeing things.

“What the heck, Kate?” I said to myself.

Parking my car, I was stunned and confused. What was Kate talking about? Had something happened while I was away? I hadn’t done anything wrong that I knew of. Yet, there it was, visible for everyone in town.

Nick, I know what you did…

Great. Everyone had likely seen the sign by now. In a small town, news spreads fast and this was like setting fire to dry grass.

I floored the gas pedal and headed home, my mind racing through every interaction I’d had the past week. I hadn’t even been there for three days!

But that message didn’t seem like an inside joke. Kate was mad but she wouldn’t endanger her diner’s reputation over something trivial.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered, parking the car in the garage, bracing myself for whatever awaited me.

There she was, my wife, sitting at the kitchen table with a slice of toast in front of her, arms crossed and an icy look in her eyes.

It felt like I was a stranger to her. She treated her customers much warmer than this, and that hurt the most.

“What’s going on, Kate? What’s with the sign?” I asked, trying to keep my cool while I was freaking out inside.

Initially, she said nothing. She slid a piece of paper across the table, like it was evidence in a trial. Next to it was a bouquet of red roses.

I picked up the paper, curious to see what had caused this mess.

It was a handwritten note on a card, attached to a receipt for a dozen roses.

Thank you for a wonderful night, love. I can’t wait to see you again.

“What’s this about?” I asked, baffled.

“You tell me,” she snapped, her voice sharp and unlike her usual self. “Who’s the lucky girl, Nick?”

I was completely disoriented.

“I didn’t send these! Kate, seriously?” I exclaimed. “I’ve been out of town. Why would I even…”

“Don’t lie, Nick!” she shouted, jumping up from her chair. “These were delivered while you were gone. You must’ve gotten sloppy, Nick. I can’t believe you’d throw away our 10 years for some affair.”

I was speechless. Right then, I couldn’t see my wife. I couldn’t see the woman I had married.

How could I?

This woman truly believed I was cheating on her. My stomach twisted as I tried to make sense of it. Flowers? A note? None of it was mine!

As much as I tried to explain, Kate was too far gone to listen.

“Kate,” I pleaded. “I need you to listen to me.”

“I don’t want to!” she shouted, tears streaming down her face.

Running my hands through my hair, trying to comprehend what was happening, something caught my eye.

The address on the receipt wasn’t quite right. It was our area but the delivery address was wrong. Off by a few digits. Same street, different house number.

I held up the receipt.

“Kate, look at this. It’s not even our address. This must’ve been for someone else.”

Her anger faltered for a second. “What?” she whispered.

“We live at 243 Maple, right?” I asked slowly.

She nodded.

“This says 241. These flowers are for someone else, Kate.”

She snatched the receipt, scanning it. Her face flushed red as she realized her mistake.

“No…” she muttered, sinking back in her chair. “No, no, no… Nick, I’m so sorry.”

I needed confirmation. I grabbed my phone and called the florist’s number on the receipt, trying to clear things up before the end of the day.

“I’m sorry, sir,” a woman said. “I can’t give out that information.”

“I’m not asking for names,” I said, trying to stay calm. “Just confirm the address. If there’s a mix-up, your delivery person needs to fix it. The flowers belong to someone else.”

She paused, typing away at her computer.

“You’re right, sir,” she said. “241 Maple. I’ll fix this immediately. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

The flowers were meant for someone down the street, a simple delivery mistake.

The note? Not mine. The roses? Not mine.

Kate sat there, wide-eyed and mortified. She stared at the table, not knowing what to say.

“Nick, I… I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I thought that… Nick…”

She couldn’t even finish her sentence.

The exhaustion from driving hit me. But it was more than just that. My wife had just publicly accused me of cheating in front of the entire town, all due to a wrong address.

I sighed.

“Kate,” I said quietly. “You put up a sign, babe. At the diner, even. A huge sign. I mean…”

Her eyes widened in horror.

“Oh my goodness,” she said. “The sign! I was just so hurt, Nick. I didn’t stop to think. And you know, Jeremy just cheated on my sister. It’s all so fresh in my head.”

By now, half the town had probably seen it, and the other half was hearing about it from someone else. This sort of spectacle couldn’t be erased.

“I’ll take it down,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Nick. Why don’t you take a shower and then we can meet at the diner for dinner?”

I gave her a small smile and nodded.

She left, and I showered, washing off the day’s drama. I didn’t want to go to the diner, I wanted to crawl into bed. But if I didn’t go, Kate would take that as a message, too. I wasn’t ready to give up on us yet, but I was struggling with it all.

By the time I got to the diner, the sign read:

It’s Always A Good Time For Milkshakes, Now With Extra Apology Sprinkles!

Hey, it was a decent attempt but…

“You’re here,” Kate said, her face lighting up as I walked in. “Fried chicken?”

I nodded and sat at my favorite booth.

That night, we sat together and talked it all out. The embarrassment, the hurt, and the fact that Kate had been ready to throw our whole marriage away because of a misunderstanding.

Kate apologized many times, and while I accepted, I made sure she understood how much her lack of trust hurt.