Every time we went grocery shopping, it was like clockwork. As soon as we reached the checkout line, Jason’s phone would magically ring. “Oh, babe, I gotta take this,” he’d say, flashing an apologetic smile before walking away and leaving me to deal with the overflowing cart and the mounting bill.

It was a routine I’d grown far too familiar with. At first, I didn’t mind covering for him. Marriage is about give and take, after all. But after the tenth time in a row, I couldn’t help but notice the pattern. The timing was too perfect. No one gets that many urgent calls during checkout. One day, after we loaded the groceries into the car, I asked casually, “Who was that on the phone?” Without missing a beat, he replied, “Work stuff.” Then he added, “Thanks for handling it.

I’ll get it next time.” But next time never came. Last Saturday, we went on a big stock-up trip. Jason insisted we buy his favorite fancy coffee, some expensive organic snacks, and three different types of chips. As we approached the checkout, I could practically feel the countdown ticking in my head. Three… two… one… and there it was. His phone rang. His hand shot to his pocket like he was defusing a bomb. “Oh, babe, I gotta take this—work.” And off he went, pacing by the entrance, gesturing dramatically like he was closing some life-changing business deal. Meanwhile, I stood there unloading our groceries onto the conveyor belt, seething. The cashier gave me a knowing look, the kind that said, “Girl, you are not fooling anyone.” I blushed, but then I glanced at the total—$347.92. My embarrassment quickly morphed into something else: determination.

That night, lying next to Jason as he snored peacefully, I devised a plan. A lesson he wouldn’t forget. While he was asleep, I grabbed his phone. I wasn’t snooping—I trusted him, despite his grocery store disappearing acts. I went straight to his contacts and found my name. With a few quick taps, I changed it to “Bank Fraud Department.” Then I carefully placed the phone back exactly where it had been. The trap was set. The next morning, we followed our usual Saturday routine. Breakfast, a quick chat about our shopping list, and then off to the store. As we shopped, I smiled at his usual commentary about chips and snacks. I almost forgot I was on a mission. Almost. As we approached the checkout, my heart raced.

I casually tapped my smartwatch. RING. RING. Jason’s face lit up in relief. He pulled out his phone, fully expecting to make his usual getaway. But then he froze. “Bank Fraud Department” was calling. His face drained of color. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” I asked sweetly. He hesitated, clearly panicked.

“Lauren…” he stammered. I leaned over and tapped the green button, answering the call for him. From his phone came my pre-recorded voice: “Hello, Jason. We’ve detected suspicious behavior on your account. Specifically, you pretending to get a phone call every time it’s YOUR turn to pay at checkout.” His jaw dropped. His face turned bright red. The cashier coughed, but it sounded more like a stifled laugh. The couple behind us giggled. Jason stood there frozen. “That was an important call,” I said, enjoying every second. Without another word, he pulled out his wallet and paid for our groceries—$389.76 this time. The cashier gave me a subtle thumbs-up as Jason lugged the bags out to the car. The drive home was silent.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight. I stared out the window, biting my cheek to keep from laughing. As we pulled into the driveway, he finally broke the silence. “That was low,” he muttered. “Lower than leaving me to pay every time?” I replied. He sighed. “Fair.” As we unloaded the groceries, he asked, “How long were you planning that?” “Not as long as you’ve been faking those calls,” I said. He shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile. “You got me.” “No more fake calls?” I asked. He raised his hands. “No more fake calls.” And he’s kept his word. Now, he insists on paying at the checkout. Sometimes he even puts his phone on the counter in plain sight, like he’s proving a point. But I still keep my smartwatch charged. Just in case.