I was married for seven years. I thought we had it all, love, trust, stability. And then, one day, a message on my phone.
Unknown number. I open it and see:
“Just so you know, your husband has been sleeping with me for three months. We plan to be together, so get ready to be alone 😘”.
I could have screamed. I could have cried. But I didn’t. I had a better plan.
Instead of answering her, I waited until dinner. He came home, sat down at the table, relaxed, unsuspecting. And then I handed him the phone and said:
“Honey, someone sent you a message. Maybe you should read it out loud”. His face changed in an instant, confusion, panic, fear.
“And… what is this?” he stammered. “Read it out loud.” I repeated, smiling.
He started to sweat. He picked up the phone, read a few words, and then threw the device on the table. But that wasn’t the end of it.
I pulled out photocopies of his bank statements from my bag. All the accounts, empty. He turned pale.
“Oh, yeah… I forgot to tell you, while you were ‘entertaining’ someone else, I withdrew all the money from the account.”
He looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time.
“And now”, I said calmly: “I’m leaving you penniless, carless, and homeless, because the apartment is in my name”.
I got up, took the keys, and left. A few days later, my lover texted me again:
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would end like this. He has nothing now”. I simply replied: “Exactly 😊”.