So, you've seen the title and braced for scandal. Rest assured, I'm not suggesting you engage in clandestine hotel rendezvous or mysterious late-night phone calls. No, we're delving into a more innocent, yet strangely aggravating kind of betrayal that takes place within the confines of your home and daily routine. The kind that makes you question your life choices while clutching a mug of lukewarm cha.
The Netflix infidelity
It starts small. Just one episode of a shared series. "I'll re-watch it with you," you tell yourself. But by the time your spouse sits down, ready for your ritualistic binge session, you've seen all six episodes. Twice!
You feign surprise, gasp at plot twists you've already anticipated, and cringe inwardly as you nod to discussions you no longer care about. This is no simple act of betrayal—it's the stuff of passive-aggressive post-it's on the fridge and icy silences over breakfast. You've broken an unspoken oath of sacred screen time unity, and it will cost you.
A "deshi" parallel: You may be tempted to bribe forgiveness with extra cheese rolls or a plate of bhapa pitha. But deep down, you know — you can't out-snack treachery.
The "What's yours is mine and what's mine is also mine" principle
The time-honoured tradition of selective ownership in relationships. It's a subtle art, wielded skillfully by one partner (sometimes both). Your snacks? Communal property. Their snacks? A national treasure, guarded with ferocity.
You leave a chocolate bar in the fridge, only to find it "redistributed" because — "I thought it was ours!" However, heaven forbid you take a chip from their hidden stash without a formal petition signed in triplicate.
When it comes to wardrobe raids, one spouse's T-shirt or a hoodie is now an "oversized comfort tee" for lounging, but try borrowing their fancy watch for a meeting and suddenly it's a "sacred heirloom."
This principle plays out daily, often with one raised eyebrow and a shared smirk. The only rule in this game? The rules change based on who's holding the metaphorical playing cards — and often, it's not you.
The "Saving for Both" cheat
Perhaps you've promised to save a little here and there for a "big treat" together — a shared indulgence in the finer things. A weekend getaway, maybe. But one fateful day, there it is: your dream discounted shoe at Bashundhara City, or that limited edition Air Fryer which promises to make fried chicken and massage your back. You cave. Suddenly, your "joint savings" look suspiciously like single-use spending. Your partner notices. The item stares accusingly, and your only ally is the flimsy store receipt clutched in your sweaty hand. You've played the game and lost.
Relatable tale: Remember the couple that went viral for arguing over a blender? They're heroes, not villains. When one partner takes a "shortcut" in savings, it's a test of love and patience.
The competitive eating betrayal
This might sound trivial until you have lived it. You've both agreed to go easy on that delectable cake or shemai your mum sent over. However, temptation strikes, and before you know it, you have scarfed it down while they are out running errands. Your only defence? A weak "I thought we were going to throw it out anyway." You might as well declare a duel at this point.
Dhaka's favourite pastime gone wrong: No amount of gurda kebab from Star will repair this rift. You will be paying for this in unsubtle sighs and hard-to-miss eye rolls.
Cheating on cleanliness
"We'll clean together," you said. "Teamwork!" you exclaimed. Yet, here you are, pretending not to see dust bunnies plotting a coup under the bed while your partner scrubs the bathroom tile.
When they find out you have "conveniently" been busy every time chores arise, there will be a reckoning. Expect a chore chart to appear, colour-coded with your name all over it.
The phone cheat
This is a personal favourite, given how universally it enrages. Perhaps you have "borrowed" your partner's phone to "check something real quick." But curiosity is a dangerous drug. Within minutes, you are deep-diving through their search history, nosing through their TikTok recommendations, and realising that their "For You" page is an uncanny, slightly unsettling reflection of their soul. By the time they demand their phone back, you are either guilty or traumatised (maybe both).
Skipping the social obligations
A classic sin: skipping that tedious "family friend" gathering and making your partner endure it alone. "It's a work thing," you lie. "They need me." You say it with conviction, but you know it will be thrown back in your face during every painful social commitment you attend together for the next year. This one doesn't even need revenge — it brings its own poetic justice.
Food fidelity and restaurant cheating
You have both marked a new eatery as a "must-visit together". But you were in the area, it was convenient, and you could not resist. You swear you will eat there together again as if the first taste did not matter, but you know it does. That pasta, that kebab—it tasted of guilt and spice.
The "I'll Tell You Everything" omission
You promised to spill all the gossip and share every detail from your workplace and friends' stories. Then, one day, you "forget" to mention something big. When it slips later — usually during a completely unrelated conversation — the breach in communication stings. "Selective transparency" is not transparency at all.
The art of "cheating" on your spouse (not in the conventional sense) is a delicate dance. It's the little things that drive us mad — the broken promises, the sneaky indulgences, and the unwritten oaths. We all cheat, a little. And we all forgive, a little. Because that's marriage: a relentless, loving, playful cycle of frustration and laughter over cake slices and late-night show binges.
